Page 8 of Three Handsome Billionaires and a Pretend Fiancée

“I’m sorry, Mr. James. I have a medical emergency I need to attend to. It was nice meeting you.” She turned to leave, then gasped when Kade caught her around the waist and kissed her again, knocking her off her axis yet again.

“See you later, snuggle-muffin. Wait up for me,” Kade said, his voice way too deep and sexy for her nipples and her clit.

It was all pretend, she reminded herself for the umpteenth time as she walked as quickly as she could out of the gallery, and then as soon as she was in the clear and out of their sight, she sprinted to her car for phase two.

Chapter Seven

Thank god it was dark outside, McKenna thought as she awkwardly tried to remove the red dress and don a green one—Hayden’s favorite color. He also liked his steak, almost, almost well done and didn’t eat tomatoes—not because he told her so, but because she always noticed he’d remove them from whatever he was eating.

Hayden was also so charming; he could easily charm the sugar straight out of her tea. And in his spare time, he climbed mountains. Like Kade was playful but dangerous, Hayden was charming but dangerous.

If someone had walked past her car, they would have sworn there were at least four people having sex in it altogether. Well, clearly, they didn’t know the feat it required to shimmy into a skin tight garment in a small space.

With the dress finally on, and panting like a maniac, from having to pull the zipper up that ran from her left knee up and over her right breast to her shoulder, she looked at herself in the mirror and shuddered.

Oh gosh. While her makeup had stayed intact, her hair still remained another story. Her head started to pound as well because of the extra tight bun Lindsey had given her which now only restrained a handful of her hair.

She made a quick decision, deciding she looked worse trying to hold onto the bun than she would if she just unpinned her cotton-candy textured hair and just let it be.

It is what it is.

Next up. Hayden Philips. She entered the address into her navigation system and soon found herself facing a very beautiful mansion, vibrantly lit under a bright moon. The aroma of jasmine and roses clung to the air from the elaborate gardens around her as she climbed out of her car.

All her bosses had given her were the addresses where their pretend wives-to-be had to show up and the dress code—evening wear which meant yet again she had no idea who lived here or why Hayden needed a pretend fiancée.

Here goes nothing, part two.

She pulled and tugged the extraordinarily tight dress over her hips. The gown, simple in its design, yet dynamic in its deep forest green color, hugged every inch of her body—from her boobs to just above her knees— so tightly she wore it like a second skin.

The satin was also unforgiving, and she hoped her nipples behaved or she’d be in big trouble otherwise. Her hair… well, that was that.

She was immediately approached by two men dressed in livery of some sort. Her car was parked by one and the other led her up the stairs and into the foyer of the magnificent house before he bowed out and disappeared.

From where she stood, she could hear chatter and laughter coming from beyond. She was only eight minutes late. She didn’t like it but there was nothing she could do about it, being basically a one woman show here. Surely, they could cut her some slack.

Once inside the foyer, she took an extra deep breath and kept it in reserve for when she needed it most.

She got this.

But no, she didn’t.

Oh shit.

She caught a glance of herself in a gold rimmed antique mirror in the foyer and did a double take. She looked as if she were wearing a little Pomeranian on her head. But that was all right and expected and accepted.

What made her gasp out loud were dreaded panty lines. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. An unforgivable faux pas which was an understatement given her hair.

The dress was so tight, it didn’t allow for any underwear, well at least not the kind of underwear she was wearing, skimpy as they were anyway. She would have known that if she had gotten dressed in a bedroom with a mirror like a normal person and not in the back seat of her car like an obsessive mad person.

She had to take them off. Now. Immediately. And put them where? She didn’t even have a purse with her. Hadn’t crossed her mind to bring one. Fudge her whole life.

Would she have to hide her underwear in a vase, or one of those potted plants and then collect it on her way out again? What if the staff found it and showed it the owners of the house, whoever they were. And it became a Cinderella but with panties situation and no one was allowed to leave until everyone got to try on her panties to see who it fitted and who it belonged too.

Oh god.

She’d trained her imagination not to run away with her over the years because it had always spelled disaster for her except now, she had reverted to her old self. Could she be blamed for it?

She’d had a heck of a day with bad hair all day, then had to pretend to be pretend fiancées for her bosses because the ones she’d hired had food poisoning. And worst, she didn’t think beyond her bosses actually having to kiss their fake brides-to-be.

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