Page 3 of Playboy Billionaire's Fake Marriage

“You don’t know how to dance.” It’s not even a question. “It’s okay darling, it doesn’t matter. We’re not competing in ‘Strictly Come Dancing.’ I’m only going to move your body wherever I want while you’re going to look pretty and let me do it.”

I’m already shaking my head. “I don’t want to dance.” Is it me or is what he’s describing sounding like something else?

“Stella Marsh. You know you can tell me what you really want,” he says with a playful smile, though there’s an undertone of something else. Something dark and provocative, and so hard to resist.

I shrug, hoping to play it off as unaffected by him. “Fine, I’ll tell you what I want. Just as soon as you start showing me more than one type of emotion.”

Shit. Where did that come from?

“Meaning?”

I might as well forge on since I’ve put my foot in it. “Meaning more than your standard cold-eyes-warm-smile, Ryan.”

He pauses, looking at me in consternation. As if he’s just seeing me for the first time.

“Come with me.” Suddenly, he stands and takes my arm, urging me out of my seat. As soon as I’m up, his hand spans the small of my back, and he turns us away from the tables.

“Whoa” Okay. Was it what I said?

“Come on, let’s go,” he starts leading me to the middle of the room.

I knew he was strong, but that took no effort from him. He’s doing it so smoothly I doubt anyone can tell he’s practically manhandling me.

Just like he did the day Xavier was going to confess his love to a pregnant Brooke and I wasn’t buying it. Ryan had carried me from the room like a sack of potatoes.

And I absolutely hated how much I loved it.

“Where do you think you’re dragging me off to now?” I ask, although I can tell because he’s already signaling to the band. Oh crap, he’s going to make me dance. A flutter of excitement begins low in my belly.

“Here, the dance floor.” Ryan murmurs. “I imagine the only way we can talk and not argue is if we’re choreographed. There now, smile; people are watching.” He pulls me into his arms, holding me tight against him as though I might bolt.

“Relax,” he whispers against my ear. “I won’t bite you. Not here anyway.”

I try to ignore how his words are making my belly flutter worse. “I have a date, you know. And I’m pretty sure he can see us.”

“Greg will be alright. I already told him I needed to do this.” Ryan starts to move slowly taking me with him.

“What? You told him you needed to dance with me?” I can’t believe the man’s nerve. What’s more annoying is that I know Greg probably gave Ryan his blessing too. Too bad I can’t play it off like Greg and I are a thing.

“To hug you, yes. You’ve been amazing the last couple of months. You’ve surprised me, actually. We hardly saw each other while planning this, yet we pulled it off. And it’s mostly because of you.”

Refusing to let his sweet words dissolve my irritation, I tilt my head back in defiance. “Really? You were surprised? What, you didn’t think I was capable of anything besides looking pretty?”

Again, he gives me that brief look. I wonder if it’s annoyance, but I can’t be sure since he’s still smirking and never makes eye contact for longer than two seconds.

“No, Stella, you surprised me because despite all the times you scoffed and rolled your eyes while planning this incredibly romantic event, you’ve done a phenomenal job. Take the decor you designed, for instance.” He gestures toward the exquisite arrangement of fresh flowers on the now-empty couple’s seat. “It’s breathtaking.”

“Breathtaking! Wow, we’re showering each other with compliments today, Ryan. Do you want something?”

Again, that look. “Now that you mention it, yes. I do. I always have. And it’s the same thing you’ve wanted since the day we met.”

“Oh, so now you’re psychic. Well, I’m not, so I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I retort, though deep down, I know exactly what he means. Ryan and I have been walking a tightrope of intense sexual tension for months now.

He fits my type perfectly: a charming playboy with a trail of broken hearts behind him. In theory, I should indulge in what he so generously offers, but something about Ryan keeps me from giving in to the temptation.

“You do Stella. Actually, it’s interesting how very similar we are. Ask me. I’ll say yes.”

“You’ll say yes to anything?” I tilt back my head to look at him.

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