My fingers drummed on the edge of my desk. I wasn’t impatient—more like excited. Chelsea had agreed to my plan yesterday, and I was eager to get things started.

“Mr. Carver,” came my secretary’s voice through the intercom. “She’s here.”

“Send her in.”

Moments later, the doors opened, and there she was. Chelsea was somehow even more stunning than she’d been yesterday. She was dressed in a tight, dark blue dress cut just low enough to show off a bit of cleavage. A golden necklace hung over her breasts, and her hair was up in a curly ponytail.

I had to clear my throat and shift in my chair to work past how attracted to her I was at that moment. Below the surface of my desk, I could feel my cock twitch to attention.

“Welcome,” I said, staying seated so she would not see the erection that was currently tenting my pants. “Have a seat.”

She smiled and nodded, her lips a deep red and her emerald eyes striking, accentuated by the eyeliner that surrounded them.

Chelsea sat across from me, crossing her legs as she’d done before. But today she didn’t have on any pantyhose—nothing but bare flesh was below her dress’s hemline.

“Good morning,” I said. “Thanks for meeting with me so early in the day.”

“My pleasure,” she said. “I figured going over the finer points of this plan couldn’t wait.”

I liked the way she thought.

“So,” I said, “you and I are going to be playing pretend. And right now, we’re going to need to get this all off to a strong, believable start.”

She tilted her head to the side slightly. There was something different about Chelsea today—more poise, more confidence. More something.

Whatever it was, it was turning me on.

“The first step is that you’re going to be moving into my apartment—for the time being at least.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Just how real are you planning on making this thing?”

“Real enough that no one questions it. Don’t worry—there’s plenty of space in my apartment for the both of us. If you don’t even want to speak to me while we’re out of the public eye, then that’s your prerogative.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” she said. “Just tell me what’s going to be happening.”

I stood up and paced slowly in front of the window.

“Like I said—fake marriage. We’ll be making our debut this weekend as a loving couple, and the two of us are going to be in the public eye for quite some time.”

“What do you mean by ‘the public eye’?”

“Well, you remember those tabloids that you said your coworkers were so into?”

She nodded.

“Expect to see your face on more than a few of them. I’ve managed to keep the paparazzi off my back since I took myself off their radar, but once this news gets out, they’re going to descend on us like the wild animals they are.”

She swallowed and shifted in her seat. Without thinking, I did a quick once-over of her body as she looked away.

“Problem?” I asked.

“I’ve spent most of my career doing behind-the-scenes stuff—the tech work necessary to get these programs working. Having pictures taken of me out on the town isn’t really something I’m used to.”

“No one is,” I said. “Not until you’ve been through it. It goes from ‘surreal’ to ‘annoying as hell’ pretty damn quickly, just so you know. Once you get over how strange it is to have people snapping pictures of you when you go out for a bite to eat, you’ll start thinking about wearing a bag over your head whenever you leave the apartment.”

“Can’t wait,” she said.

“You’ll do fine,” I said. “So, as I said, we’ll be making our debut at a charity ball this weekend. I’ll be providing you with whatever you need as far as clothes, and a monthly stipend should make the trouble worth it.” I took a seat on the edge of the desk. “And I’ll be having you sign a nondisclosure agreement, of course.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What,” she said, “don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that,” I said. “I just like to have all my bases covered.”

“And you think I’ll just go out and blab about what’s going on? Why would I do that?”

“I can’t think of any reason why you would,” I said, curious as to why she’d be objecting to something so standard. “But in my experience, people can change very quickly when they feel they’ve been wronged.”

I’d said too much, and Chelsea noticed.

“I don’t like it,” she said. “It’s weird to know that I’m legally bound not to speak about something.”

“You’ve never signed an NDA before?” I asked, surprised.

“Never had to. My partners and I just did the work and stayed on the level. That is, until they screwed me.” She waved her hands in front of her face. “This thing we’re doing,” she said. “It’s weird, but I’m on board. But I’m thinking that if it’s going to work, there’s going to need to be a certain level of trust between us. Isn’t trust what relationships are built on?”

“Even fake ones?” I asked.

“Even fake ones.”

I didn’t like the idea, but I could see where she was coming from. Having too much structure might make us look cold and distant to one another in public—there needed to be some intimacy.

But I’d been burnt before, the last time I trusted a woman.

“If you insist on the NDA, there’s no deal,” said Chelsea, crossing her arms under her breasts. “I’ve had enough experience with signing contracts that have only come back to bite me in the ass.”

I looked away for a moment before turning my eyes back to her.

“Fine,” I said. “But don’t make me regret this. I need this to work, and if it goes sideways and the press gets word that you and I are playing pretend, then I’ll be sunk. Hell, I’d have to move to Estonia or something. And you, of course, wouldn’t get any of the promotions we discussed yesterday.”

“Then let’s make sure this all goes off without a hitch,” she said with a smile.

“But you’ve given me something to think about,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“How real this is going to look.”

“Ah,” she said. “The verisimilitude of our pretend relationship.”

“Exactly. We’re going to have to look like a couple who’s so madly and deeply in love that we got engaged after only knowing each other for a short while. And we’re going to have to sell it.”

There was one thing I wasn’t going to have to fake: my attraction to Chelsea. If anything, it was going to be a distraction. Even the way she sat there, her legs crossed, her lips parted slightly, her eyes focused in eager attention, was turning me on.

Attraction was necessary, but walking around with a semi in my pants all day wasn’t going to work either. And judging by the way Chelsea’s eyes kept taking little passes over the angles of my body, I had the impression she was thinking the same thing.

“Stand up,” I said, my tone stern.

Chelsea stayed still, her expression hardening.

“Problem?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I don’t know how you’re used to talking to your staff, but ordering me around like that isn’t going to fly. This is going to be a partnership, and I’m not going to be at your beck and call.”

“Fine,” I said, a little taken aback.

She was talking to me with more spine than most of my executives. It was…interesting.

“Please stand up, Chelsea,” I said, softening my tone.

She smiled and complied.

I placed my hand on my chin and made a slow circle around her.

“Why do I feel like you’re appraising me like I’m a piece of art you’re about to buy?”

“Because I’m getting a sense of you,” I said. “We’re going to have to give the impression that we know one another intimately.”

I was speaking the truth, but I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t enjoying this three-sixty of Chelsea.

“Now,” I said, “the two of us are going to have to get used to touching one another, kissing one another.”

“That is something that couples tend to do,” she said.

I stopped. “When was the last time you dated someone?” I asked.

Chelsea’s body stiffened. She clearly wasn’t comfortable with the subject of her personal life. “It’s been a while,” she said, her eyes fixed forward.

“How long is ‘a while’?” I asked.

“Well,” she said, wringing her hands together. “There was Evan, and he and I dated for a couple of months.”

“And how long ago was this?”

“Um, two years.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she said. “It’s weird.”

“The idea that you—easily one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on—would have gone so long without dating is… You’re right. ‘Weird’ is the only word I can think of.”

Her face reddened again. “Guys have asked me out here and there, but I’ve just been so busy with work. My company was my baby, and I wasn’t about to let myself get distracted by dating.”

“A woman after my own heart,” I said. “Though I try to make a little time for romance here and there.”

“Oh, I know,” she said. “I saw the tabloids—remember?”

I smirked. “Then this is all new to you,” I said, the smirk still on my face. “Do you need a little refresher on the birds and the bees?”

Chelsea rolled her eyes. “I’m not a virgin, for Christ’s sake.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think after that much time you might as well be.”

“I get it, I get it,” she said.

“In that case,” I said, stepping closer to her, “a little practicing might be in order.”

“Practicing?” she asked.

“Right,” I said, now close enough to her that her perfume drifted up and around me, a lovely scent of lilacs and fresh fruit. “To jog your memory about what it’s like to be out and about with a man.” I stuck out my arm. “Here,” I said. “Go ahead.”

She regarded my arm curiously for a second or two before slipping her own arm through it. Our bodies fit together perfectly as I brought her to my side.

And my cock was well aware that there was now a beautiful woman standing next to me.

“It’s got to look natural,” I said. “Anything off, and the tabloids will latch onto it and not let go.”

I led her through the expanse of the office, our walk slow as if we were making our way through a ballroom.

“How does this feel?” I asked.

“Normal,” she said. “Surprisingly so.”

I felt the same way. There was nothing strange about having Chelsea at my side. It was as though we’d been walking like this for years.

Then she reached up and placed her hand on my forearm.

“Closeness,” she said, noticing that I’d noticed. “Looks more natural.”

We made a circle around the room, coming to a stop at my desk. Once there, we both sat down on the edge, our bodies touching. A thrill ran through me at being so close to her, an excitement I hadn’t felt in years.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Think anyone looking would mistake us for an actual couple?”

“It’s possible,” I said, my gaze locked onto her clover-colored eyes, my cock getting harder by the second. “But there’s one more thing I think you and I should practice.”

She cocked her head to the side.

“Oh?” she asked. “And what’s that?”

Feeling as though my body was moving on its own, I leaned in toward Chelsea and kissed her hard.