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She must hate it. I will let her redecorate, but no fucking pink.
“What’s wrong?” Mia asks, startling me.
My eyes drop to hers, and I brush the hair from her forehead.
“Morning.” I shift and tug her against me. Playing the part.
After all, she’s here for my sexual enjoyment—that’s the deal we agreed to and what she expects from me.
“You look unhappy,” Mia says, blushing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to use you as a life-size pillow.”
Yeah, I’m miserable. Waking up with a gorgeous woman draped over me is hell. Utter hell.
“I think I can defend myself.” I smirk.
“So, you’re just not a morning person?” Mia’s eyes graze over my face. She’s trying to analyze me. It’s what people do when they’ve lived with controlling parents. The goal is to be one step ahead of the issue to survive.
I don’t like that she doesn’t trust me, but she shouldn’t.
“I could show you how much of a morning person I am, but I suspect you might be sore,” I say, letting that sink in.
She presses her lips together, and I palm her ass, nudging her against my hard cock and suppressing a groan.
“Get in the shower while I go workout. We have press to meet with this morning.”
Mia sighs, her eyes moving to my lips as if she wants me to kiss her. Does she?
Then something else occurs to me.
“Think you can pretend to be my fiancé?” I ask. “Appear to be madly in love with me. Kiss me like you can never live another day without me?”
I’m taunting her.
“I’ve kissed you,” she says, sounding almost offended.
“Like you want to fuck me, not marry me,” I reply, my brow quirked.
Her eyes move from mine and roam the space behind me. I can’t help but wonder what she’s thinking. She hasn’t asked me the same question in return.
Can I convince the press I’m in love?
I don’t know.
It’s not like they’ll expect I’ve turned into Ryan Gosling overnight because I met a woman I loved. I’m not the type of man into public displays of affection.
I’m stoic.
Yet we need to be convincing.
“I don’t know how I’d kiss a man I love,” she finally says, surprising me. “I’ve never been in love before. Have you?”
“No,” I answer without hesitation.
We need the world to believe us, so we better get it right. Convincing her father will be a whole other challenge. While I’ve not met Joe Mancini, I know powerful men. They’re clever and astute.
He also knows his daughter, and I bet he’ll spot a fake relationship a mile away. We have two days until we go to dinner to perfect our act.
Either she’s an excellent actress, or I need to make it look like we’re madly in love. I decide a little manipulation is in order.
