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There had been plenty of opportunities to back out of the marriage idea. Once, as they’d passed a twenty-four-hour diner, he’d considered calling everything off and asking her on a breakfast date for the following morning.
But he liked her.
And he was selfish.
“Are you stalling?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I’m giving you time to back out.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re okay with staying married to me for three months?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He was fine with staying married to her for even longer than that. This woman was worth every headache, all the heartburn. It was something he knew, something he unwittingly started to learn ever since that fateful presentation.
“Then, Lucas Saraci, for the next three months, I’ll be your Mrs. Saraci,” she said. “But we’ll need to lay some ground rules. For instance,” her gaze briefly dropped to his lips, “how real is this marriage going to be? Because we barely like breathing each other’s air.”
On the contrary, he didn’t mind breathing her air. If given the opportunity, he would suck it right from her mouth.
Someone knocked on the door, and it wasn’t a moment too soon. At some point, his fingers had left her back and dipped south, but they got stuck trying to decide whether to grip her ass or slide down the seam.
“Plus, you talk a good game,” she continued. “But when it comes down to it, you’re probably no different from most other men.”
The right side of his mouth tugged. “And how’s that?”
“You’ve only ever seen me dressed up and made up. Perfectly put together. You want me because you think I’m pretty, but the minute you find things you don’t like, the minute you see me without all the flair and flashiness, you’ll bolt.”
Or he would fall in love.
Raina, without the flair and flashiness, was exactly what he wanted. A dream come true would be them lying on the sofa, watching a TV series they promised to watch together, her wearing his clothes, fresh-faced and smelling like lotion and body wash.
“Raina, I woke up next to you in Vegas,” he reminded her.
She’d had sleep in her eyes and threads from the sheets in her messy hair, splayed across his chest and snoring like an English bulldog. Still, his first thought had been to pull her closer.
Don’t let her go.
Hold her for as long as he could.
The knock grew more insistent, and a woman’s voice followed.“Raina, it’s me. If you two are done, let me put you back in order so we can head to the set.”
Raina glanced at the door. “Put me back in order? Does she think we’re in here having sex?”
“You told them I was your husband,” he said. “You’re dressed like this, and we’ve been behind a locked door. I’d think so too. If I had my way, I would be in here fucking you.”
“And what’s ‘your way’?”
“Your lips begging me to make love to you.”
She eased off his lap. “I probably won’t be done here until late tonight. Do you think you can wait until Friday to talk?”
“No.”
“What if I promise to call you? I swear, this isn’t me backing out. I really just am that busy this week.”
He scratched at the neatly trimmed hairs on his jaw. “Spend the weekend with me, and you have an agreement.”
