Page 14 of His Fake Wife

“I dated exactly one professional model. The other Instagram models don’t count.”

“Thanks for the refresher course on your dating history,” I scowled.

“Jealous?”

“Not on your life.”

Our bickering had become more light ribbing than our usual colorful, insulting and anger filled battles. I suppose it had to do with both of us resigning ourselves to the fact that we were stuck together for the next two years. So we could do nothing other than swallow our resentment and work with our situation until we didn’t have to. Plus, at Adam’s spacious two-floor penthouse apartment, we were able to give each other plenty of space. I stayed out of his ways as much as I could.

His smug smile began grating on my nerves and I snapped, “Would you mind going away? I’m trying to finish getting dressed.” My toes curled into the plush carpet and I began fidgeting with my tight-fitted dress. I hated how self-conscious I felt trapped under his intense stare.

“I’ll go away after I give you your gift.”

My brows shot up. “We’re buying each other gifts now? I didn’t get the memo.”

His hands emerged from his pockets and something glistened in one. “I got you something to go with the dress.” He held up a hand and I gazed at the diamond necklace with a pear-shaped emerald pendant. The stones were big enough to be seen from space. It was gorgeous and it did go with the dress.

I swallowed hard as he stepped closer. “It’s...beautiful.” I thought he’d hand me the piece of jewelry and leave. Instead, he stepped around me to drape it around my neck. The heat of his body so close to mine was impossible to ignore. That scent that he wore floated to my nostrils. It was intoxicating.

I gulped again, confused by my reaction as I gazed wide-eyed at our reflection in the mirror. Yet, I shouldn’t have been confused. Adam and I have never liked each other much but that had nothing to do with the fact that he was a man?a very attractive one?and I was a woman with feelings and needs. I’d like to think I had absolutely no control over the potent spark of arousal that sizzled through me. His gaze met mine in the mirror and I froze. I didn’t even dare to breathe when he studied the length of me.

“Perfect.”

Surely the purred word wasn’t an outright compliment. He just meant I look presentable enough to be on the arm of a billionaire. Right?

“What’s this for?” I stroked the pendant with nervous fingers.

“Any wife of mine needs to look like a million bucks.”

Of course. It was just as I’d thought. The gift held no sentiment. “Right. Did you choose it yourself?”

His eyes lifted and collided with mine. He was still standing too close and we stared at each in the mirror. Adam blinked and backed away.

“Of course, not,” he denied too quickly. “My assistant took care of it. I just thought I should…” he shrugged, “I’m sure every woman at the function will be draped in the most expensive jewelry. As the wife of a Thorne, so should you.”

He shoved his hands back into his pockets, rocked back on his heels, and said, “I’ll leave you alone now.” With that, he wheeled around and marched out.

Coming back to the present, I cringed at the memory. I hated that my heart dropped just a little and I felt a tinge of disappointment when he brushed the gift off as nothing more than keeping up appearances.

“I’m such an idiot,” I groaned, downing the rest of my champagne. I allowed myself to think that Adam would care enough to buy me jewelry as a kind gesture. He wanted me to look the part of a Thorne. Nothing more to it. I spotted him across the room heading back to me but he was stopped by two older men.

He signaled me over and I took a deep breath. One of the men he was speaking with was Charles McCarthy, the big shot that Adam wanted to do business with. I already met the man’s wife. Well, I looked the part and it was time to act the part. Over the last few weeks I learned that my acting skills are superb. Putting my empty glass down, I glided across the ballroom.

“Adam, sweetheart.” His eyes swung to me and they widened a fraction but he recovered quickly. Even I almost rolled my eyes at my saccharine tone.

“Beth, dear.” He eyed me suspiciously and I smiled. We pretended to be a happy couple all the time but we never used terms of endearment before.

“Good evening, gentlemen.”

The two men smiled warmly. “We were just telling Adam that we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting his lovely wife.”

“Gentlemen, this is Beth. Beth, this is Gerald Hains,” he nodded to the man who had spoken and I shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“And this,” Adam gestured to the other man with kind blue eyes and a full head of gray hair, “Is Charles McCarthy.”

“A pleasure, Mr. McCarthy. Thank you for the invitation.”

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