“Walk me to my room?” she asked casually after noting several photographers had drifted away. Only the most tenacious had hung on, which meant they would likely be the most interested in being thrown a bone.
“Sure.” Logan laced his fingers with hers in what had become a very common move for him. She liked it, but that was a deep, dark secret she’d never spill.
Was this what normal couples did, how they acted with each other? Was that why so many people did the relationship deal despite the surety of things going south? If nothing else, participating in a fake relationship gave her an inkling why Cass, Alex and Harper had all jumped on the marriage bandwagon.
But none of her friends were broken. Obviously. Just because real relationships had happened for them didn’t mean it would for Trinity. That’s why this one was so great—it would end before anyone got attached.
Of course, they hadn’t exactly established an expiration date, but he could announce one any second. Letting go of Logan suddenly felt like the very last thing she’d be okay with, and her throat tightened along with her hand.
He squeezed hers back and oh, God, she didn’t want to let him go. Not tonight.
They stepped out of the elevator on her floor without any reporters following them, and she didn’t care. None of this was about the press or sales. He was a man and she was a woman and she needed him. For a lot of things, some she didn’t even want to articulate to herself, let alone to him.
Logan must have sensed her distress, because he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed two knuckles as they arrived at her door. “What’s wrong? You’re shaking.”
“Nothing.” Blow it off. Not letting a man see her weaknesses was so ingrained, she did it automatically. “Just thinking about our missed opportunity to get photographed kissing downstairs.”
“We have the next three days. We’ll have plenty of opportunities.”
She couldn’t let him leave. Desperately, she shook her head and smiled, easily falling into seduce-and-conquer mode. Because that’s what she knew how to do. “Maybe we should practice.”
He laughed. “Kissing? You saw the pictures from Saturday. I don’t think lack of practice is our problem.”
“No, it’s not,” she murmured. “Our problem is that we always stop.”
A glint popped into his gaze that she couldn’t read. But he wasn’t walking away. “We stop because we’re in public and our agreement doesn’t extend to making X-rated films.”
But not because he wanted to stop. She pounced on that small distinction and held up her card key, then deliberately dragged it down his torso until she hit his belt. “So don’t stop.”
If he didn’t, it would be her one chance to pretend Logan could be hers for real. Just for one night.
* * *
The little white dress Trinity wore had been killing him since he’d first glimpsed her in it. All Logan could think about during dinner was putting his hands under it to see if she had on virginal white underwear or had gone full-bore bad girl with a racy thong, maybe in red.
Either one would work.
The mystery could be solved very easily. All he had to do was sweep her into his arms, open the door and lay her out on the hotel bed.
He didn’t. There were rules in place. For a reason.
“Are you inviting me into your room?” His voice had dropped, going raw with need that he couldn’t control if he tried. So he wasn’t trying. “Because that would be a no-no. We’re only a couple in public. A fake couple.”
“Oh, right. We’re still worried about your rule book.” She didn’t sound worried. She sounded like she was about to rip all of his rules to shreds. And maybe some of his sanity, too. “If it would make you feel better, we could leave the door open.”
A technicality. It had potential. If they left the door open, they’d theoretically still be a couple. It was only behind closed doors that he’d established any sort of parameters.
“That doesn’t make it real,” he cautioned, and he was pretty sure she realized he was talking to himself more than her.
Kissing in public was one thing, but to take it behind closed doors meant he had to admit his fierce attraction to Trinity went far deeper than it should. She wasn’t the right woman for him.
Her laugh ripped through his groin, hardening his shaft to the point of pain.
“For the love of all that’s holy, Logan. Please tell me what about the sizzling-hot thing between us isn’t real?”
She had a point, one he wished he didn’t like so much. Real was relative.
They had a real attraction. A real interest in getting each other naked. The only fake part was how it had started. And how it would end. He’d always defined a real relationship as one with potential to be permanent, but again, perspective.