away so she can cut her losses twenty days early. Don’t let her, my friend. The more annoying she gets, the more you dig in and pretend you love it. In another week, she’ll be so confused and out of ideas that the real Melissa will resurface.”
“You say that, but I’m running out of clothes that she hasn’t accidentally set on fire or turned into a sugary mess!”
“You know, for a guy who’s bedded more women than I can count, than even some NASA super computers can count…”
“I am not that bad.”
“You’re not that good either, or our dear queen wouldn’t have kicked you off the continent.”
“Was there a point?” he growled, not sure why he ever thought calling Gregory would result in any comforting advice.
“Yes, there definitely is. You need to call her bluff. Never let her realize that you know she’s putting up a ruse. Let her be as annoying as she wants. It’s all a game and you just have to survive it. My God, you’d think you’d understand women better.”
“I do!”
Gregory chuckled long and hard on the other end. “My friend, you do not; Melissa is clearly eating you alive.”
Chapter Fourteen
The kitchen is laid out with a five-course meal. She doesn’t know who cooked it, whether Ray called in a favor from Emeril or Wolfgang, or if her husband has secret talents and hidden depths of his own. Melissa doesn’t care. Her mouth is already watering from the succulent aroma of roast duck wafting in from the kitchen. Candles are lit in the silver candelabras on the table, and the stereo is blasting Sinatra.
Anything with Old Blue Eyes is automatically romantic.
Hell, they are in Vegas, aren’t they?
A smile plays across her face, even as she slips her stilettos from sore and tired feet. Part of her would almost rather that he rub her feet than make love to her. Just part of her though. Maybe she’ll be a lucky girl tonight and get both.
The only thing she’s surprised by is that she can’t find Ray. Shouldn’t he be here, gloating at all his handiwork and seduction efforts? She rounds the table, running her hands over the cut crystal glasses. He spared no expense. Even the red wine has been carefully chosen from his vintage collection. But where is he?
She hears a thump from the bedroom and rushes upstairs, convinced he’s tripped on something.
When she gets there, her stomach turns. She’s found him. Mel’s eyes go wide; she can’t believe what she’s seeing. But she should, it’s the same story from prom night over five years ago, and this is all a business arrangement after all. She’s the one who set those rules. But it hurts and stings like the bites of a hundred barbed arrows. There is Ray, his abs rippling with every flex of his hips, even now the sight of him leaves her wet and wanting. Except his thrusts aren’t for her.
No.
They are for Brandy who writhes beneath him, clearly coming with the pleasure that should be hers.
Mel bolted out of bed. Her entire body was covered in sweat and her hair clung to her forehead and neck. That was the first time she’d had a dream like that, where she felt and saw in living color a betrayal from Ray. It wasn’t true, but in the low early morning light, and with her heart pounding in her ears, logic didn’t apply.
It was crazy, but it felt like he cheated on her. They have a contract of convenience, one that she wishes were already over. Isn’t that why she started the act in the first place five days ago?
Still, the dream reminds her of everything, of her world falling apart around her, of the attraction she fears she can no longer fight.
If she lets herself fall, really and truly, then he will have the power to break her apart.
That’s why she has to fight harder.
She slips on her yoga pants and a tank top. A quick run will help her get her head in the game. It’s already six-fifteen and there’s no way she’ll be able to get back to sleep this morning. Maybe she can keep running from her
“You say that, but I’m running out of clothes that she hasn’t accidentally set on fire or turned into a sugary mess!”
“You know, for a guy who’s bedded more women than I can count, than even some NASA super computers can count…”
“I am not that bad.”
“You’re not that good either, or our dear queen wouldn’t have kicked you off the continent.”
“Was there a point?” he growled, not sure why he ever thought calling Gregory would result in any comforting advice.
“Yes, there definitely is. You need to call her bluff. Never let her realize that you know she’s putting up a ruse. Let her be as annoying as she wants. It’s all a game and you just have to survive it. My God, you’d think you’d understand women better.”
“I do!”
Gregory chuckled long and hard on the other end. “My friend, you do not; Melissa is clearly eating you alive.”
Chapter Fourteen
The kitchen is laid out with a five-course meal. She doesn’t know who cooked it, whether Ray called in a favor from Emeril or Wolfgang, or if her husband has secret talents and hidden depths of his own. Melissa doesn’t care. Her mouth is already watering from the succulent aroma of roast duck wafting in from the kitchen. Candles are lit in the silver candelabras on the table, and the stereo is blasting Sinatra.
Anything with Old Blue Eyes is automatically romantic.
Hell, they are in Vegas, aren’t they?
A smile plays across her face, even as she slips her stilettos from sore and tired feet. Part of her would almost rather that he rub her feet than make love to her. Just part of her though. Maybe she’ll be a lucky girl tonight and get both.
The only thing she’s surprised by is that she can’t find Ray. Shouldn’t he be here, gloating at all his handiwork and seduction efforts? She rounds the table, running her hands over the cut crystal glasses. He spared no expense. Even the red wine has been carefully chosen from his vintage collection. But where is he?
She hears a thump from the bedroom and rushes upstairs, convinced he’s tripped on something.
When she gets there, her stomach turns. She’s found him. Mel’s eyes go wide; she can’t believe what she’s seeing. But she should, it’s the same story from prom night over five years ago, and this is all a business arrangement after all. She’s the one who set those rules. But it hurts and stings like the bites of a hundred barbed arrows. There is Ray, his abs rippling with every flex of his hips, even now the sight of him leaves her wet and wanting. Except his thrusts aren’t for her.
No.
They are for Brandy who writhes beneath him, clearly coming with the pleasure that should be hers.
Mel bolted out of bed. Her entire body was covered in sweat and her hair clung to her forehead and neck. That was the first time she’d had a dream like that, where she felt and saw in living color a betrayal from Ray. It wasn’t true, but in the low early morning light, and with her heart pounding in her ears, logic didn’t apply.
It was crazy, but it felt like he cheated on her. They have a contract of convenience, one that she wishes were already over. Isn’t that why she started the act in the first place five days ago?
Still, the dream reminds her of everything, of her world falling apart around her, of the attraction she fears she can no longer fight.
If she lets herself fall, really and truly, then he will have the power to break her apart.
That’s why she has to fight harder.
She slips on her yoga pants and a tank top. A quick run will help her get her head in the game. It’s already six-fifteen and there’s no way she’ll be able to get back to sleep this morning. Maybe she can keep running from her
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