Cade sighs and tilts his head back to stare at the stars, “We might have a few meetings to attend, a couple of legal signings – that kind of thing.” He glances at me, “You don’t have to attend, but it would be good if you did.”
“Be the supportive fiancée, I guess?” I smile.
Cade nods, “Yes, and you can guarantee that they will send people in to check up on our relationship, to prove that it’s real.” He shakes his head and I can see the disgust in his eyes at the thought. “Sharks, the lot of them.”
I nod and decide now is not a great time to bring up the fact that this is a fake relationship, and they would be right to have their suspicions. I keep my mouth shut and idly muse that I’m already getting better at reading him, fake relationship or not.
We approach the bridge and Cade leads us onto it. I smile as the glittering lights reflect off the water. It’s heavenly. It’s beautiful and I sigh. This might all be fake, and I might have my own motives, but there’s no denying that it’s an experience being on Cade’s arm.
He’s charming and driven and knows how to treat a lady. No wonder he has a new one on his arm every week. He probably has a new girl on his arm every couple of days, if I am being honest. That would make me his longest relationship. The thought makes me chuckle and I shake my head when he throws me a curious look.
I realize that I have still not let go of his arm and I smile, realizing that I am not in much of a mood to do so. We need to be convincing, after all.
“Let me know when they schedule any meetings and I’ll try to get off work.”
He nods, looking concerned, “It might be short notice. Do you have to pay your replacement if you give short notice?”
I nod, “Yes, that’s the standard rule, unless it’s sick leave.”
Cade nodded, “Well, I’ll cover any expenses, okay? We need this to go smoothly, so just let me know what you need.”
I smile and nod, relief bubbling up inside me. I laugh, “Well, in that case, I need a shopping trip.” I tease.
“Done.” He stops, riffling through his wallet and handing me a credit card. He scribbles down the pin code and hands it over to me.
“Cade.” I blush, embarrassed, “I didn’t mean you had to…” I trail off.
“Just try not to spend thousands. If you need something for the meeting, don’t hesitate to grab it. You’re my fiancée, after all.”
I stand there, feeling awkward as I clutch his card in my hand. Eventually, I tuck it into my purse and shut it firmly, “Okay… but I’m not going crazy with it.”
Cade smiles and looks me over, “No, I don’t suppose you would.”
I wonder if he’s given anyone else a card, if any other woman has had access to his funds, or knows his life story as well as I do. I don’t think we’re close, but being someone’s stylist means you learn things. It strikes me that he may be trying to get me on his good side, so that I have no reason to rat him out.
I realize that I have a lot of the power here, even though he holds the money. One word to the trust fund and it’s all over for him. But then, that would mean it would be all over for me too, and I’m not that silly. Besides, he’s an arrogant womanizer, but he’s never been anything but nice to me, even though he can drive me nuts. I have no reason to try to hurt him. As long as we keep this professional, there’s no reason to worry.
“We’re almost at your car.” He smiles and I realize that he’s right. He offered me a lift, but I declined, preferring to take my own car and have an escape route. Now I wonder why I even worried about that in the first place.
“Thank you for tonight.” I turn to him as we reach my car.
He shrugs, “Thank you.” He leans in and takes my hand. I can feel my heart beating in my chest, thudding as color rises to my cheeks, “The company… was exquisite.”
He presses his lips to the back of my hand and I think I might swoon right there and then. Then he smirks and there’s something different in his eyes, something that’s different from the teasing glances of before.
One hand wraps around my waist and he pulls me in. When his lips meet mine, all I can taste is him, the lingering flavor of coffee on his tongue, the tiramisu. His kiss is electric and I feel it move through my body, down my skin and fizzling in a blush along my cheeks.
He’s kissing me like he means it and I cannot help but melt into him, my arms going around his broad shoulders.
Keeping this strictly professional is not going to be easy.
CHAPTER FOUR
ADAM JONES