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“It wasn’t even a real kiss,” he muttered to himself. No, that had been more like a prelude to a kiss, a teasing promise of things to come. The barest brush of his lips against hers, nothing more.
And yet he’d had to take a cold shower last night before he’d been able to fall asleep.
Santiago shook his head at his own foolishness. Here he was, acting like a randy teenager when really, nothing had happened. To make matters worse, he was certain his feelings were all one-sided. Ainsley had looked shocked after the almost-kiss, but she’d quickly regained her composure. Probably because it wasn’t even a blip on her radar. He’d been burning for her after one brief taste, but she’d clearly felt nothing beyond annoyance.
Not that he blamed her. He didn’t know why he’d gotten so familiar with her last night. It certainly wasn’t something he’d planned. He’d meant to keep things strictly professional between them. But something about that moment had made him forget where they were and what they were doing. He’d gotten distracted by her nearness and the years apart had melted away, making him think they were still together. He’d acted on instinct, moving in to touch her the way he’d done a million times before. Back when he’d still had that privilege.
“It won’t happen again,” he told himself sternly. It couldn’t. He had to expose this marriage retreat for the fraud it was, and the only way to do that was with Ainsley’s help. If he messed things up between them, she’d walk away and he wouldn’t be able to help his sister, or the other couples who had made the mistake of trusting these people.
“Eyes on the prize,” he muttered. This week would be difficult, but he simply had to shove his feelings and attraction to Ainsley to the side so he could focus on the important job ahead.
He reached for the door handle, only to startle as someone rapped on the passenger side window. Ainsley gave him a little wave and he unlocked the door.
She tossed a bag in the back seat, then opened the door and slid in next to him. “Hey,” she said. “I saw you from my office window so I decided to come down. Save you a trip up.”
He gawked at her, staring at her hair. It was no longer brown—she’d added honey-blonde highlights throughout, changing her appearance completely.
“You look different,” he managed.
She reached up and touched her hair. “Yeah, I did it last night. I think it turned out okay, for a home job.”
“It looks good.” He’d never thought of her as a blonde, but she carried it well.
“Thanks,” she said.
“What possessed you to do it?”
She frowned. “I worried people at the retreat might recognize me. This place is pretty close to Mustang Valley, and I didn’t want anyone there to see me and doubt our story.”
“Good thinking,” he said.
“I do occasionally have good ideas,” she said, offering a lop-sided smile.
“So, just the one bag?” he asked, glancing back at the small duffel she’d brought.
“Yep,” she confirmed. “I pack light.”
“That’s right, you do,” he murmured. “I’d forgotten.”
He caught her eye as he turned around and smiled faintly. She glanced away, lifting her hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear.
Santiago sucked in a breath as he saw the rings on her finger. A shock went through him, an electric zap down his spine that radiated through his limbs. She was wearing the emerald he’d given her.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise—she had said she would wear the wedding set. Logically, he’d known he’d see the rings on her finger.
But there was something about the sight of his ring on her left hand that hit him hard. A wave of possessiveness washed over him, his thoughts congealing into a single word: mine.
The rational part of his brain recognized he was being ridiculous. The rings were a fake symbol, a prop for the roles they were playing. But some caveman impulse deep inside of him swelled with pleasure to see Ainsley sporting a visible sign of their connection. The whole world would know at a glance that this woman was taken, that she was his.
Even though it wasn’t true.
“Are you all right?”
She was studying him with a concerned expression, clearly worried. What must he look like to elicit that question?
Santiago cleared his throat and schooled his features into a neutral mask. “I’m fine. Just thinking about this week.”
Ainsley nodded, apparently satisfied by his response. “I’m worried, too. What do you think it will be like?”
