Page 30 of Playboy Billionaire's Fake Marriage

“Um, sure,” I say, already thinking how hard this is becoming. “But what about your own family?”

“My parents and sister think we’ve been dating a while, so it just makes sense to hurry things along for the sake of the company.”

That perks me up. “You have a sister!” And then it hits me. “You told your family we’re dating?”

“Yes, I have a younger sister. Her name is Regina—Gina for short. Everything else you need to know about everyone in my life is in that file. Listen, for this to work, we need to appear head over heels in love with each other. Touchy-feely, PDA, googly eyes, whatever else—just channel Bonnie and Ethan.”

“Eww…” I grimace.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Bonnie and Ethan’s mutual fascination is so palpable that you could almost reach out and feel it. At least he finally proposed to the girl.

“Ryan, I don’t do besotted. But you’re good at it, going by your antics at the hospital the other day. Maybe you can try to be all over me. I’m sure no one will notice my subtle gags and eye rolls.”

Ryan laughs. “I knew that’s what pissed you off! By the way, that wasn’t me being besotted. I just found it amusing that you desperately wanted to hide the fact that we’d been together.”

“And you on the other hand did everything but shout it from the rooftops. Bonnie thought you acted like you’d just found the key to life. So did Brooke.”

“Hardly,” he scoffs, and I’m not sure if I should be offended. Was I really that forgettable? Was it not good for him? He’d been so cold, so controlled. I, on the other hand, still can’t believe how unhinged I was.

“Anyway,” Ryan says into the sudden awkward silence. “I won’t do all the heavy lifting; you should pull your own weight to convince everyone. There will be a welcome party when we get to Seattle. We must be perfect.”

I’m starting to wonder if I’m not in over my head. His family is like an ocean of sharks. “They’ll probably hate me and call me a gold digger.” I force a light-hearted chuckle telling myself that it won’t matter what anyone thinks because I’ll only be there for six months.

He watches me for a few moments, his expression unreadable. Then puts a single knuckle under my chin and raises my face up to meet his. “Stella, I’m going to be the king of that pack, and you’ll be my queen. They might hate you, but they wouldn’t dare disrespect you.”

Slowly, his large hand cups the side of my jaw, his fingers wrapping around my neck. His hold is light, but it might as well be steel manacles for the effect it has on me. His thumb grazes the rapidly beating pulse in my neck, his gaze holding me captive as his words resonate in my head like an endless gong, bolstering my confidence.

I imagine being like this for hours. Letting him touch me like this. Making me feel needed. Seen.

And I’m an idiot because this is Ryan Fairchild.

I snap out of my daze, breaking the spell. Suddenly needing to do something, I grab the tumbler and throw back the rest of the scotch. Then I flick the pages over to the part I’m really looking for. The sleeping arrangements.

There’s nothing about those in there.

“Ryan?”

“Hmm?”

“This isn’t complete. What about sleeping arrangements?”

“What about them? We’ll be married.”

I throw my hands up like it should be obvious. “Yes, since there won’t be anyone checking in to see if we’re actually sleeping together, do we have to?”

“Considering neither of us would be fucking anyone else, I say we’d better make do with each other.”

Okay. “And is that going to be enough…for you?”

Ryan laughs. “Stella, do I detect you fishing for compliments there?”

“No, I’m serious. You didn’t seem to be into it much the last time when it was just you and me.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

I shake my head, feeling like I said too much already. “Never mind. What kind of sex do you have anyway?”

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