Page 34 of Forever Fake

“Oh, come on.” He gives me puppy dog eyes, sliding closer.

“She saidno.” The deep, smooth voice behind me sends a delicious shudder down my spine. Immediately, I feel safer with Blake near. “Now get the fuck out of here before Imakeyou leave.”

The guy’s cheeks tinge pink, his brows pull together right before his eyes widen and the blood drains from his face. The series of expressions that cross his features is fascinating to watch.

“Sorry, sir.” He grabs his beer and practically runs out of the bar.

I turn around and face Blake. He looks good enough to eat in his navy blue suit, his blond waves artfully styled. His eyes though, they burn with the promise of danger. He’s a killer, I remind myself, anyone with a brain would run far away.

That fire dims as soon as he looks at me. “Have you been down hereflirting, naughty magpie?”

I give him a shrug, realizing all I want to do is run toward him instead of away. See? Broken.

His bright blues flash with warning.

“I was just having some fun.” I down the rest of my cocktail and beam up at him, the disturbing encounter with that guy almost forgotten. “I even got a free drink out of it.”

Blake glowers, obviously annoyed by me. “Come. It’s time for dinner.”

“Okay.” I slide off the stool and wrap my arm around his as he leads us to the restaurant.

Quaintis not the word I’d use to describe this resort. The outside has the appearance of a sprawling European castle and the interior’s decorated with Victorian antiques. Our suite’s two stories tall, overlooking the mountains, with a wet bar, two balconies, a fireplace, and luxury ensuite.

The host leads us through the crowded room to our table by the window, where a silver moon peeks over the horizon and casts its reflection on the lake’s dark waters. The restaurant’s atmosphere is both luxurious and old world.

Blake strikes me as the type of man who prefers modern luxury—I’m not sure why, considering his home’s filled with antiques. He just gives off that vibe. But in his heart, he has a soft spot for artifacts of the past. I can see why he likes the Mohonk Mountain House. It’s sohim.

And this is where we’re going to get engaged. I’ll never be able to stay here again without thinking of this night, I’m sure of it.

How many other places in New York, or around the world, will be imprinted with memories of my time with the infamous Blake Baron? As it is, his kisses are seared into my skin, his touch branded on my flesh, and his scent is anchored in my soul. My pulse stutters. He’s affected me so much in such a short amount of time. A year might be my ruin.

Blake orders us the seven course dinner and the dishes begin arriving shortly thereafter. Each dish is accompanied by a winepairing, and by the fifth course I’m buzzed. That lemon drop on a practically empty stomach may have helped too.

“I scheduled you for a spa day tomorrow,” he announces, swirling his wine.

My stomach drops. “So we’re here for the weekend, but we’re not actually going to spend any time together?”

He glances at me, his gaze briefly flashes with surprise. “Did you…” He clears his throat. “Did youwantto spend time together?”

I lift my shoulders and let them drop, doing my best to appear nonchalant. “Maybe. I mean not a lot of time, but maybe we could go out on the lake or something. Unless you’re too busy with work?—”

“No. I’m not too busy.” He frowns into his glass. “We can go out on the lake tomorrow around sunset.”

The lake at sunset? How romantic. Heat sweeps over my skin and my heart soars.

“Okay. Sure.” I bounce in my seat, giving away my enthusiasm. All things considered, I shouldn’twantto hang out with Blake, except that since moving in with him, I’ve felt more free and alive than ever in my life. Like I’m finally able to discover who I am without judgment or restrictions. And this new me that’s forming wants to spend time with this alluring man. After all, I won’t have him in my life forever. Each minute with him should be savored like a delicious dessert.

He’s a killer. He murdered your friend and her family.That insistent little voice won’t let me forget those details, even if it happened seven years ago. Almost everyone I know is a killer, so really, Blake’s not that different.

Am I making excuses for him now? We’re not even engaged yet.

By the time the dessert course rolls around, I’m practically vibrating in my seat with jittery nerves. He’s going to propose.It’s fake, I know it is, but I’m still nervous. We have a captive audience in this dining room who are going to witness this next step in our ruse.

For some reason, this feels like a point of no return. If I accept his proposal, then I’m in this fake relationship to the end. There’s no going back after tonight. Calling it off would create a scandal.

With each step forward, I become more and more…his.

We’re in the middle of dessert—which Blake hasn’t touched—when he clears his throat and stands up from the table. For a moment, he looks as nervous as I feel. But that can't be true. The mighty Blake Baron’s never anxious about anything. Unless he really is human after all.

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