Just Desserts

“There you are, Daisy,” Kate said, sailing through the leather and gold studded door, all smiles, as if she hadn’t been flirting with Sebastian. “I haven’t been able to get a word with you.”



Maybe that’s because you’ve been too busy flirting with my fiancé, Daisy thought grimly. Not that she should care. She and Sebastian were pretend, no matter the very real feelings he’d stirred inside of her when he’d put—okay, so those thoughts were off limits too.



“That’s okay.” Kate took the seat beside her. “What did Sebastian think of tonight’s ensemble?”



“He said my hair looked pretty.” His compliment had sounded strained, like he hadn’t meant it.



Daisy glanced at Kate, at her perfectly coiffed hair and perfectly tailored outfit that looked nothing like the one she’d picked out for Daisy. Kate was all High Street fashion while Daisy was evening strip-mall formalwear. Maybe the woman had tricked her and had been secretly making fun of her by dressing her in some overdone, itchy material meant for a woman three times her age.



“Is that all?”



“Yes.”



Kate frowned. “The outfit was perfect for him.”



“Then maybe he should have worn it.”



The dark-haired woman laughed. “Well, at least one outfit in your arsenal is guaranteed to stun him. I think you should wear the mint green Valentino to tomorrow evening’s gala. It was in the slew of dresses I had sent over as an apology.”



Daisy wouldn’t touch anything in her “arsenal”. Mint green Valentino or not. Sebastian’s favorite color or not. “I’ll keep that in mind.”



“Have I done something dreadful?” Kate’s brows drew together and there was concern in her pale green eyes. Eyes that the Valentino dress matched perfectly. Eyes that matched Sebastian’s favorite color perfectly.



Daisy’s stomach dropped to her manicured toes. “Who are you to Sebastian?” she asked bluntly.



“Merely a family friend, like I told you,” Kate insisted, but her gaze skittered away, like before.



“And?”



“We grew up together, our fathers were business associates and… Daisy, I think you might get the wrong impression if I tell you the rest.”



“You’re still in love with him,” Daisy said, hoping against hope she was wrong. Hoping against hope that her memory hadn’t just kicked in and she was imaging that she had seen pictures of Sebastian and Kate together, arm and arm.



Kate’s porcelain complexion pinkened. “It doesn’t matter how I feel anymore, because he’s in love with you now.”



Oh God. Sebastian wasn’t in love with her at all, but she couldn’t tell Kate that, could she? Daisy jumped to her feet, all at once embarrassed and angry. “Maybe it would be better if we don’t hang out anymore.” Mostly because Daisy would feel like a fraud the entire time.



“Wait!” Kate cried out, standing and rushing over to her. “I completely respect your boundaries and I’ll stay away, but I want you to know…no, I need you to understand that I wanted to help you this evening and your entire stay, with your clothes and everything I could think of, because he does mean something to me. I enjoyed spending time with you as well, and I can see why he loves you.”



Frozen to the spot, Daisy stared at the woman. Something along the lines of “Ah…uh…” came from her mouth.



“Right, then. Please treat him well. He works too hard. Make him have a little fun. He needs some fun in his life.” Kate hugged her, and then left the room.



She gazed around the ornate bathroom, at the burgundy walls infused with gold veins, and the large mirrors with ornate black frames. Her reflection stared back, eyes wide and face pale. She didn’t recognize the woman in the mirror.



The vision wavered.



She wanted to go home.



Chapter Eighteen



“Are you mental?” Liam asked, his dark eyes scanning the room.



Sebastian made a face. “It was your brilliant plan, remember?”



“Not Daisy. She’s lovely, beautiful, and charming.”



Of course she was, Sebastian thought, but he wasn’t too keen on his friend noticing. “Then who?”



His friend slashed a hand through the air. “Her.”



“Her who?” Sebastian signaled for the server to bring the check.



Liam set down his drink. “Kate, your ex-girlfriend. Did you honestly think it was a good idea to have the woman who wanted to marry you in the same room, dining at the same table, as the woman who is supposedly marrying you?”



“Hang on a minute, “Sebastian said, leaning forward. “I thought you invited Kate?”



“What gave you that impression?”



“You did.”



“I did?”



“Yes, you did.”



“How did I give you that impression?”



Good God, they were quickly becoming the X Factor’s Ant and Dec. Sebastian took a deep breath and tried again. “The texts from Verity about Kate accompanying you around town.”



Shaking his head, Liam gave him a wry smile. “According to Kate, your fiancée invited her to dinner, with your expressed approval. They went shopping together this afternoon.”



“Oh, fuck me.” Practically leaping to his feet, Sebastian strode off in the direction Daisy had gone.



She met him halfway, her face pale. “I want to go home.”



“Of course,” he murmured, taking her by the arm. “Did someone—” Jesus, he was a coward and an idiot for not warning her, for not blurting out the truth before now.—“say something to hurt your feelings?”



A slight hesitation and his heart sank. “No. I’m just tired, is all. Some of us aren’t used to jetting around the world.”



Relieved, he grinned. There was his Daisy. “Let me pay the check and we’ll be on our way.”



***



The car ride to his home was as quiet as earlier in the evening, only this time tension invaded the space, thick and suffocating like a wet blanket.



It seemed as though she tolerated his presence, because as soon as they arrived and the doorman let them in, she’d nearly ran to her bedroom. He had no idea what he’d done wrong and no idea how to repair things.



Maybe he should wait until tomorrow to tell her about Jules.



After showering, he brushed his teeth and pulled on a pair of pajama pants. For a full ten minutes, he paced his room. There was no way he would wait until tomorrow to talk to her. Best to sort things out now.



He strode to the door and headed down the hall. Her room was only a few feet away. Light shone from her doorway. He knocked once and stepped inside.



“Daisy, I—”



She let out a squeal, clutching the dress she had worn to her chest, but that didn’t obstruct his view of her bare bum or thighs or the dangerous curves of her waist. The mirror behind her had seen to that.



“What do you want?” she asked.



He stepped in the room and shut the door behind him, never taking his eyes off her reflection. Then he noticed her hair and forgot why he’d come to talk to her. A riot of curls in every shade imaginable fell to halfway down her back.



“Your hair,” he said, closing the distance between them and cupping her bare shoulders. Sliding his hands down her shoulders and around her back, he slipped his fingers in long strands. “You didn’t cut it.”



“Why would I?”



“Because of what I said about your wardrobe yesterday.”



Her chin tipped up. “My hair isn’t a part of my wardrobe.” She looked away, her shoulders falling, and he suddenly realized how fatigued she must actually be.



“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” he said softly, letting hands fall away.



He stepped back, taking in her barely concealed body and the engagement ring on her finger. She was his. The very primal part of him wanted to dominate her, wanted to take her against the mirror, until she screamed his name. But the very civilized part of him won out and he pivoted, moving to the door.



“Why didn’t you ask Kate to marry you, instead of this fake fiancée stuff with me? It’s obvious the two of you belong together.”



That stopped him cold. He turned to face her again. The dress still clutched tight to her front. “If we belonged together, I would be with Kate, already married and not enduring this fake fiancée stuff, as you so eloquently put it, with you,” he snapped, then immediately regretted. He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean it like that.”



Hazel eyes rimmed with lavender regarded him. “Yes, you did.”



“You’re absolutely right.”



Hurt flared in her eyes. “I am?”



Taking a step towards her, he nodded. “If Kate and I belonged together, I would be with her and married. But we’re not. Because we don’t belong together.”



Daisy stepped back, inching closer the mirror. “She still loves you.”



Even as it came out of his mouth, he knew how bad it sounded, how vulnerable it made him, but it had to be said, “But I don’t love Kate. I don’t want to be with her and she knows this. I’d rather be with you, my fiancée, however fake. I’d rather touch you, kiss you and be inside of you. I’d rather listen to you hum and talk in your sleep.” For the rest of his life.



Her lips parted, gaze raking over his chest. Yeah, she liked what she saw. Once more, he flicked his eyes over the mirror, taking in her nude reflection. And so did she. Her eyes darkened and his body responded, his dick growing hard. She was remembering what had happened between them, as did he.



He remembered every minute detail, down to the way her lashes flutter when she orgasmed.



“Then why did you flirt with her and not me?” she asked, her voice accusing.



Flirting? Now this was interesting. “I wasn’t flirting.”



She nodded emphatically, sending those colorful curls he loved to touch flying. “Yes, you were. You laughed and smiled with her. And smiled…and was nice.”



“I laughed and smiled with my mates as well.”



“It’s not the same and you know it.”



Actually he hadn’t a clue, until now. “Were you jealous, darling?” He smiled and her eyes went wide.



“No,” she said, but he didn’t believe her.



“You were.” He closed the distance between them again, stopping a few inches shy of touching her. Heat radiated from her body, the dress she still clutched the only physical barrier between them. “Shall I smile and laugh with you, even when you’re not speaking to me?”



“I was nervous.”



“I know. You looked beautiful tonight.”



She made a face. “I was dressed like the Queen tonight.”



“I like vintage,” he insisted, then gave her a wicked smile and raked his eyes over her. “Au naturel is more to my taste.”



She let go of the dress. It fell to the floor, landing on his bare feet. He made himself keep his eyes on her face.



“What about my shoes?” she asked.



“Lovely.”



“You didn’t look.”



“Saw them earlier.” He dipped his head, brushing his lips across hers. She shivered, her hard nipples and soft breasts brushing against his chest as he embraced her.



“I hate this,” she whispered and he froze. She slid her arms around his back, stroking the lines of his tattoos. “Not this, not you…it’s…I can’t sleep with you and not have it affect me.”



At her confession, he kissed her cheek. “I’m not that bloke, you know. The one they sometimes still show on the telly and the Internet—a spoiled aristocrat sleeping around, partying like there’s no tomorrow, punching out his father, and doing his level best to take down a corporate empire. I won’t leave you for no reason.” Like Jules had.



As if she were reading his thoughts, she asked, “How did you know about Jules’s last name? You never answered me in the car. ”



He opened his mouth to tell the truth, but the monster that lived inside spoke for him, “I did a background check on you, your family, your friends—virtual and real life—before asking you to pose as my fiancée.”



Petal-pink lips made an O shape, and then a glimmer of anger shone in her eyes. Suddenly it faded. “I guess that’s reasonable, but I wished you would have told me sooner.”



“I’m sorry.”



“So you know every humiliating thing about me.” She sniffed, her hands falling to hang listlessly her sides. “I must look like a total—”



“You looked strong to me. Determined. Unwilling to let anyone or anything keep you down.” He cupped her shoulders, letting his hands slide her arms and encircle her wrists. “Tell me what to do to make this right. To make you comfortable and have this affect you in a way that makes you happy.”



She looked up at him, with so much emotion in her gaze that he wondered if he’d done irreparable damage. Damn his selfish ass, tomorrow he would fly her back to Holland Springs, give her all of the money they’d agreed to, and take the consequences like a real man.



“Take me sightseeing.”



He blinked. That was the last thing he expected her to say. “Sightseeing?”



“Oh yeah, all the places I missed, like the Harry Potter train ride… I want to do it all. With you,” she said, a mischievous grin curving her lips. “Then take me to a pub, so I can eat fish and chips and drink a pint of ale. Oh, and buy me a t-shirt, with the Union Jack on it.”



A t-shirt? Oh, his giddy aunt. He swallowed. “Is that all?”

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