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We’re still faking this insanity ‘til the cows come home.
“You two just need to get to know each other,” Anya continues. “You can’t plop down in front of cameras and act like a couple if you haven’t practiced.”
That almost makes sense. How are we supposed to easily touch and play if we’ve never done it before? Performing in front of other people is way harder than doing it in private.
Although Madison from the sex shop might disagree.
She points at me. “I can tell you’re on board.”
“I’m only on board if Ivan is on board. I’m here to do what he says, and—”
Anya groans. “My brother needs a kick in his pants. You can’t just roll over every time he asks, Cora.”
I turn my face towards the sky to hide the flush warming my cheeks. She has no idea exactly how eager my body is to roll over under Ivan Pushkin.
“Dinner,” I mutter. “That’s it. If Ivan agrees, we can do dinner.Justdinner. Not a date, but a night to…to practice.”
She claps her hands. “Yes. Okay, I will totally make this happen. Tonight.”
She seems oddly confident as she marches away from me and into the house on what I’m sure is a doomed mission.
Ivan was a wall of ice this morning. There is no way even Anya, as sweet and bubbly as she is, can melt him down by tonight.
But if she does, I suppose a little practice won’t be the worst thing in the world. I’d love to endure the next few days, weeks, or however long this takes with something akin to a friendly ceasefire. I’m sure that’s possible without blurring the already very muddy lines between us…
Right?
I groan and sink down into my chair. It’s fine. Anya’s plan will probably fail, anyway.
39
IVAN
Anya doesn’t even bother knocking. She strolls into my office with a tux draped over her arm. “You and Cora have a reservation at Boulon in ninety minutes.”
I don’t bother looking at her. “Not interested.”
Before I can even pretend to be reabsorbed in my work, Anya throws my tuxedo on my desk. It lands across my arms just as she leans over the desk and jabs a finger into my chest.
“Your wife ismis-er-a-ble,” she claps. “I could see it written all over her face. She tried to play it off, but that girl looks like death warmed over.”
I grimace. The interview this morning didn’t go as well as I hoped it would. Turns out, even a facade with good intentions rubs me the wrong way. Sitting there next to her, pretending to be something we aren’t…
It reminded me too much of everything I swore I’d never become.
“Then tell her to be a better actress.”
Anya groans. “She could be the best actress in the world and it wouldn’t matter. No one in their right mind would look at the two of you and think that you’re in love and on your way to getting married.”
“Youbelieved us.”
She narrows her eyes. “I was in shock. I give it two hours and I would have untangled your entire deceitful web.”
“Cora’s happiness isn’t my priority. I’m saving her life. I’d say that’s enough.”
“Your plan to catch whoever is after her only works if they think Cora is anactualthreat. That means you need to look like you enjoy being around her.”
That’s precisely the fucking problem. Idoenjoy being around her. Too much, actually.
