Page 150 of Charming Deception

If he was cheating, he’d be careful about it. Keep it private.

Cheating. Ha. It’s not cheating if you’re not in a real relationship anyway.

I try to wash down my discomfort with wine.

God, I hate this.

Not knowing how he really feels about me and where I stand with him…

Other than being his fake partner.

Is that truly all he sees me as? And will ever see me as?

Am I really letting myself start to feel for another man who won’t treat me right?

And do I really believe that Jameson Vance is going to be celibate for a whole year while he’s fake engaged to me? And never touch another woman?

No. I don’t believe that.

And the more days that pass without him broaching the subject of us having sex, the more I’m starting to fear that he’s going to decide to do it with someone else instead.

And if he does, what will I say?

I like you, please don’t sleep with someone else?

I already told him that he could touch me.

I told him, like a dumbass, that I wanted “first dibs” on his attention.

The truth is, if he chooses someone else instead… I already know it will crush me.

* * *

If I thought Paris was exhilarating in the daytime, the city truly comes alive at night. Jameson and I have to navigate around the crowds spilling out of the bustling sidewalk cafés and bars.

We’re strolling back to the hotel along the narrow sidewalks, with Locke and Rurik at our heels, when I ask him, “Can we hold hands?”

He hesitates, but when I offer him my hand, he slips his into mine. I soften almost instantly, melting into our connection. No matter how on edge I felt at dinner, it puts me at ease to touch him.

“It really is romantic here, isn’t it?” I marvel over it as I try to absorb every sight and sound, the wisps of music, and the rich scents of food and coffee on the night air. “It’s in the air. I can feel it. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“It is.” Jameson’s voice is low, his tone reserved.

He’s been pretty quiet since we left the restaurant. Even so, my heart thumps a brutal rhythm, the one that tortures me whenever he’s this close to me, my skin pulsing where we touch. Sex feels imminent.

But I know it’s not.

And because there’s nothing I can do to indulge these romantic urges with the man at my side, the man I’m engaged to, but who won’t have sex with me, I change the subject.

“You didn’t tell me your stepdad would be there tonight. I didn’t even know you have a stepdad, or that he lives in France. You could’ve warned me, so I could mentally prepare.”

His stepfather was very nice to me, and he was clearly happy to see Jameson, but we both know what I mean by that. The man is a parental figure of Jameson’s, and here we are, engaged out of nowhere. Honestly, I would’ve worn a slightly less sexy dress if I knew this was meet-the-stepdad night.

“Did you need a warning?” Jameson sounds amused.

“Yes! This hemline should be a few inches lower and I would’ve toned down the glitter eye shadow, for one.”

“That’s two.”

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