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Or because she secretly wanted to sit and stare at that ring, letting out tiny sighs every so often while she dreamed of her father walking her down the aisle?
She had to dump these thoughts and present her software to Miles Morgan before he moved on to someone far more interesting than her.
“Mr. Morgan—Miles.” She offered him a polite smile. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a minute of your time to discuss a proposal I have for you.”
He shifted his gaze around the group. They were all drinking and laughing, not talking about business at this point—when the wine they’d consumed was beginning to hit their system.
With a nod, he waved a hand toward the exit. “Let’s step outside and enjoy the beautiful scenery while we talk.”
Jace barreled through the door ahead of her. She saw his hand twitch toward his spine in readiness of any danger and let out a small shiver that her man was so dangerous and capable.
My man.
Oh, god. The ring on her finger and the fake fiancé thing were starting to go to her head.
* * * * *
Jace’s words lodged in his throat as Bronte stepped out of the bedroom wearing a gown the color of an emerald.
She glided toward him, her high heels silent on the carpet of the suite. A nervous smile crossed over her face as she caught him staring.
The neckline was wide and low, offering a perfect hint of creamy cleavage, and the dress swished behind her.
He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He was finding it difficult to get enough air.
She drew close, and he stepped forward to take her hands. “You look like one of those old Hollywood-era starlets.”
Her lips parted on a puff of air. “You don’t think it will be too much? Kimmy assured me when I picked it out that it was perfect for the dinner tonight.”
“You’re perfect in everything, but this dress looks like it was made for you.” He stared deep into her expressive brown eyes, aware of the deeper flecks and how they glittered at his compliment.
Bronte stepped back to give him the eye too. “You don’t look so shabby yourself. I don’t know what I like better on you, the jeans and hat or a suit.”
His cock urged him to unzip that dress and let it fall to the floor just to find out what she wore underneath it. But he needed to find some control. Tonight was a pivotal point in Bronte’s case. If his team’s plan succeeded, The Broker would finally be in custody. Hopefully they’d have the criminal behind itallthis time and the man responsible for the death of the congressman’s daughter would be dealt the justice he deserved.
When he stroked his thumb across her fingers, he brushed over the metal band of the engagement ring she wore. His chest tightened even further. When he placed that ring on her finger, his brain insisted it was all for show. But the part of him that always knew someday he’d ask a woman to marry him felt the act to the base of his soul.
For a fleeting moment when he’d slid the ring in place and gazed into Bronte’s eyes, it hadn’t been fake.
He tightened his lips, steeling himself for what else he had to do tonight. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her more than she already was. She was looking so radiantly beautiful ever since she secured that deal back at the winery with Miles Morgan. Between her inner glow of happiness and the stunning dress, everyone would be looking at her tonight.
Which would work to WEST’s advantage when Jace wired her so they could keep tabs on everything.
“You’re missing something.” His voice sounded gritty with the nerves he tried not to show.
As he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tiny box, her hand fluttered to her throat.
“Don’t get excited. It’s not what you think.” His stomach shouldn’t feel so sick as he opened the case and showed her the tiny gold pin in the shape of a heart.
Her lashes fluttered downward and then flicked up when she met his gaze again. “What does it do?”
“It’s a camera, but if you press down on it, it will bring every man on the WEST team running to your aid. There’s a built-in tracker.” He plucked it from the case and moved in. “Where would you like it pinned?”
She glanced down at herself, and he was already fixated on her lush cleavage just begging for long, lazy strokes of his tongue. A flush crept over the tops of her breasts and up her throat. She pointed out a spot in the center of the neckline. “I guess right here.”
“I told Ari to send something that would match a formal dress.”
“Ari?”
