Page 43 of Reckless King

I’m tempted to cut this conversation short and take Violet out on the dance floor, but Amy’s one of the biggest gossips in this room. If we want news about our relationship to spread, and spread quickly, this is the way to do it.

And there’s a part of me, one that’s growing stronger by the minute, that wants to see how far Violet’s willing to go to sell this act. Fake or not, I know what I’d do if a man startedflirting while I was standing by her side. There wouldn’t be the faintest doubt that Violet was mine. But I signed on the dotted line, agreeing that physical intimacy between the two of us is at Violet’s discretion. And fuck if I don’t want to know what exactly it will take to get her to kiss me.

“I’m a fashion designer,” Amy says, a hint of smugness in her tone. So that’s what she’s trying out these days. “And you?”

Violet keeps her chin tipped up. “I own a coffee shop.”

“A coffee shop? How cute.”

I swear I can hear Violet’s teeth grind together, but her composure doesn’t waver.

“Violet’s shop sells the best coffee I’ve ever tasted,” I say.

Violet’s surprised gaze meets mine, and I quirk a brow at her.

“Is that so?” Amy asks, giving me an overly enthusiastic smile. “Maybe you can take me to try it one day.”

I’d laugh at the absurdity of her behavior if she wasn’t insulting Violet. She’s acting as if there’s something between us when, in fact, there never has been. I’m pretty sure she slept with my dad, although that’s never stopped her from making a play for me or my brothers. I won’t look down on someone for having daddy issues, not when I have plenty of my own. But I draw the line at being anything more than civil to a woman who knowingly slept with a married man and now wants to complete the father-son set.

As she continues to attempt to flirt with me, Violet’s gaze flicks between us. I’m not encouraging Amy. Not even a little. The woman is flat-out ignoring my blatant disinterest and Violet’s presence all on her own.

My fake girlfriend has gone quiet beside me, but the waves of irritation radiating from her are palpable. I turn my full attention on her, willing her to read my mind. Because if she doesn’t do something soon, I’m going to.

Come on, butterfly. I’m yours now. Stake your claim before I break the terms of our agreement on the first fucking night.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

VIOLET

Whoever this Amy is, her attitude is really grating on me. I’m standing here right next to Tate, yet she’s blatantly ignoring my presence. Even after Tate told her I was his girlfriend, she’s continued to flirt with him.

I move closer to him as irritation rolls through me. In response, he glances down, his eyes glinting with what I assume is amusement at my frustration. I’m tempted to walk off and leave him to it. After all, this whole thing was his idea. What’s the point of posing as his girlfriend if women are just going to disregard me anyway?

He turns back to the beautiful blond woman, his arm brushing mine. She’s talking about some party she’s hoping he’ll attend. I don’t think I’m included in that invitation.

“I hope you’ll come,” she says, squeezing his bicep a little too familiarly.

Have they slept together?The question gnaws at me. Not that it matters if they have. For all I know, Tate’s slept with half the women here.

Even so, the thought that he might have had his hands on her pricks at my chest.

“Violet and I will have to check our schedule,” Tate says.

Amy’s gaze darts to me, then back to him quickly, her smile faltering for an instant. “Well, you don’t both need to be there.”

Tate doesn’t physically react, but the air around us grows thick with tension at her words. “Why would I want to go to a party without my girlfriend?”

Now Amy’s eyes are ping-ponging between us. Her hand flutters to her chest. “You’re actually serious? You’re… dating?” Her tone is heavy with disbelief.

Tate fixes his eyes on me. “I’d be stupid not to lock her down when I had the chance, wouldn’t I? It took me a while to convince her, and she had very stringentterms and conditionswhen it came to agreeing to be with me, but I finally wore her down.”

Oh god. It hits me then. That stupid clause in the contract. Physical intimacy is at my discretion.Ineed to initiate it.

He lifts one brow, as if he knows I’ve finally caught on and he’s daring me the way he did in the conference room when we signed the contract.

Yes, I put the clause in there, but can I follow through with it? I glance again at Amy, who still has a hand splayed across her chest, as if shocked—or possibly horrified—at the thought that Tate might actually be dating me. That’s all it takes for me to make up my mind. “I’m still deciding if I was crazy to say yes, but so far, the benefits haven’t been too unpleasant.”

Without overthinking the move, I rest my hand on his hard chest, go up on my toes and press my lips to his cheek. At least that’s my intention. Only, Tate turns his head at the last moment. Just a little. Just enough so my mouth brushes the corner of his. As if he’s been waiting for exactly this, he slides his hand around my waist, drags me to him, and brings his lips to my ear. “Took you long enough.”

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