Page 11 of His Fake Wife

Instead, I was sitting in Adam’s bedroom, still in my wedding dress, glaring at him. He sat across the room glaring at me too. He was still in his tux, which I couldn’t deny looked great on him.

“At least we have one thing in common,” I muttered. “We’re both experts at glaring.”

“Two things, Beth. We both want to be anywhere else but here with each other.”

“True.”

We were being forced to spend the night together. Well, we thought it best for the sake of appearing like a real married couple to the guests who would remain at the Thorne mansion for the night. I felt sick to my stomach. I’d just gone through a marriage ceremony and pretended to be happy and madly in love with Adam. We recited our vows before God for goodness sake. I felt like a fraud.

“Chin up,” Adam said, downing his entire glass of whatever he was drinking. It was his third glass since we got here. I guess it was his way of coping with being stuck in this room with me. “We only have to survive this one night. Once we get to my place, you don’t even have to sleep on the same floor as me.”

“Don’t you have staff? They’ll notice and you know how quickly the rumors can spread.”

His low chuckle, as he reached for the crystal decanter he’d been guzzling from, made my stomach muscles clench. The sound was sexy, teasing, so...Adam. “Sounds to me like you want to sleep with me.”

“Not a chance. You’ve passed Adam junior around way too much for me to feel comfortable getting anywhere near it.”

Head thrown back, he roared. Rather than deny, he tipped his glass in my direction and drawled, “Touché. Want a drink?”

“No thanks.”

“I won't roofie it or anything.”

I rolled my eyes. That never even crossed my mind. As much as we didn’t get along, I knew he wasn’t capable of that. Adam charmed the panties off of women, he didn’t need to resort to underhanded methods.

“I’m not big on alcohol.”

“Hmm. You don’t drink and I can bet you don’t have much sex. That explains so much.”

Heat crept into my cheeks and I glowered. He’d never made it a secret that he thought I was the biggest prude in the universe.

“Your opinion of me has never mattered,” I replied sweetly.

Another of his sensual chuckles filled the room and I swallowed. What was wrong with me? Five minutes alone in a room with Adam and my traitorous body was reacting to him in strange ways.

“How...how do you know I don’t have much sex?” The second the words passed my lips, I mentally facepalmed myself.

His teasing grin made my toes curls in my shoes. “If you did, you probably wouldn’t be sitting like a schoolmarm, looking down your perfect little nose at me.”

I blinked and forced my body to relax. I was indeed sitting with my shoulders steel-rod stiff, back straight, legs pressed tightly together and hands folded in my lap. I was so embarrassed that he was right that I couldn’t find a thing to say.

“Relax Beth. Kick your shoes off, get comfy. It’s going to be a long night.” His voice dropped an octave and his eyes swept over me suggestively. “Slip out of that dress if you want to,” he winked.

I gasped. “Perv.”

“I’m kidding. You’re so easy,” he laughed.

I gritted my teeth. My face was on fire again. I didn’t know why I let him get to me like this all the time. As if he'd be interested in seeing my body when he was accustomed to perfect, stick thin, leggy models with gigantic boobs. A wave of insecurity rose up, which I quickly shoved down. “And you're so disgusting.”

“Obviously, not that disgusting since you stuck your tongue down my throat once. And you enjoyed it,” he purred.

Damn it, I did. Why did he have to bring it up?

“I’m surprised you remember.”

His mocking grin dropped. “I didn’t...I mean, I haven’t thought about it until now.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

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