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Reckless, breathless, Arlie lifted her chin so her lips grazed Samuel’s. That first delirious taste of him. Coffee-laced, intoxicating.
Samuel pulled back abruptly. The startled look in his eyes mirrored her own shock.
The photo shoot. The photographer. The assistant.
What was she doing?
She didn’t know. And for the first time, she didn’t care. She just needed to be nearer to him. And if pretending to be a happy couple was the vehicle, she would drive it. All these months of fear and scarcity. Of doubt and despair. She wanted this one good thing. Selfishly and without apology.
His lips skimmed over hers in answer. Hesitant. A question.
This?
Us?
Then Parker Kane’s image rose up in Arlie’s memory, his look accusatory and knowing. Those cold blue eyes reducing her to the one fact she couldn’t outrun.
He wouldn’t want you if he knew.
A surge of nausea rocked her on unsteady feet. Feeling like she’d been punched in the stomach, Arlie backed away, leaving Samuel staring at her in confusion.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I need to go.”
Arlie grabbed her bag, shoving her tools into it before darting into the hallway, her phone and the incriminating message on it burning her like a hot coal.
