Page 15 of Just One Fake Date

And that changed everything.

Shannyn had become a mystery he wanted to solve.

And really, if they were going to make their date to Katelyn’s wedding seem plausible, they had to know more about each other. They needed some history, ideally documented on their phones. There was the bridal shower in a week and a half, and it would be best if Shannyn was there.

Ty needed to have a solid plan to present to her when she woke up. He was pretty sure that Shannyn would disagree, and that he’d have only one chance to convince her. He had to prepare his argument.

He eased away from her and reached for the duvet, taking one last look at her. She looked delicate to him again, and he knew that any defensive barriers were down as she slept.

With her hair cut so short, he could see the curve of her nape. The sight reminded him of the day she’d sat in front of him in class. Her hair had been long then, wavy, but she’d had it up in a ponytail that day. He remembered being tempted to touch her, to find out if her skin was as soft as it looked. He’d felt as if something secret and special was revealed to him, but now the whole world could see her neck any time. He ran a fingertip gently down her spine from her hairline and Shannyn murmured in her sleep, rubbing against his hand like a kitten. He smiled and touched his lips to her shoulder, but she pulled away with a frown and a brush of her hand.

Maybe more like a feral cat.

She would definitely run as soon as she woke up.

Ty needed that plan before she did.

Three

Shannyn awakenedwith a rare sense of well-being. She wasn’t surprised that a trio of orgasms could improve her mood, but was amazed by how much. She’d been working too hard, been too stressed about money, and needed to indulge more often.

Especially like this.

She braced herself on her elbows to survey the city virtually spread at her feet and then the room. There was no sign of Tyler or any sound of his presence. Had he left? Shannyn doubted that. The door they’d entered was closed, a line of light showing beneath it, and she guessed he was on the other side, in the main room of the apartment.

The bedroom was bigger than her own living room, which Shannyn knew would be reflected in the cost of an apartment right downtown like this one. She was tucked into a king-sized bed with a firm mattress, smooth sheets and fluffy pillows. There was a high padded headboard upholstered in leather with brass studs around the perimeter and the bed was seriously solid. The duvet was light and warm, and the cover was as white as fresh snow. The bed didn’t come close to filling the space or even dominating it—that was left to the glorious view—and there were nightstands on either side of the bed, with lamps. The one furthest from the door to the living room was stacked with books, although in the shadows, Shannyn couldn’t read the titles.

Tyler’s place could have been a hotel.

One that she’d never be able to afford.

The wall between the door to the main space of the apartment and the windows was dark, and Shannyn realized from the flicker of light at the bottom of it that it had a gas fireplace. It was probably two-sided, so there could be a fire in the living room, too. There was a shaggy sheepskin rug in front of the fireplace and a big leather chair with a lamp in the corner against the window.

The windows were on the wall opposite the headboard and offered an epic view of the city, glittering at night. At this height, the sounds of traffic were distant but audible. Shannyn studied the silhouettes of the lit buildings, and guessed that the view was to the south, toward Staten Island and her own place in Brooklyn. She waved to her cat, Fitzwilliam, knowing he’d be pacing the foyer, impatient to be fed.

She should get home.

Shannyn took a deep breath and stretched, knowing that it wasn’t the high thread count of the sheets that made her feel so good. There was a lot to be said for a man who took his partner’s pleasure as a personal challenge.

Not the least of which was the surprise factor.

But it wasn’t necessarily nice. Tyler was trying to change her mind about him and his motives. He had an end game. She guessed that she was supposed to want more—she did—or become one of Tyler’s fan-girls—she wouldn’t—and refused to follow that script. If nothing else, she’d shake up his expectations.

She wasn’t going to worry about shattering his confidence.

No, she had to take care of herself. His determination was what made Tyler dangerous to her own defenses. It would be easy to relax and slide into whatever he had planned next. He got to her in all the right places, because he wanted to. Shannyn reminded herself that he was on a quest to charm her. There was no doubt that he was a man used to getting what he wanted.

Maybe it was a question of pride that he was so intent on changing her view. She wouldn’t have expected him to make such easy progress, but he didn’t have to know that if he kept on like this, he’d have her on his side and know all of her secrets in a hurry.

Shannyn was never going to be that vulnerable again.

She knew that once he’d won, Tyler would move on.

Being surrounded by picture-perfect luxury did make Shannyn realize that she’d have to nail her dress for his sister’s wedding. She’d ask her mom for advice, once she knew the when and where. Her mom, who had been making exclusive wedding gowns longer than Shannyn had been alive, could wring the most amazing details from just the address or name of the church.

It was darker than it had been and Shannyn checked her watch, unsurprised that it was after seven. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d skipped lunch. Fitzwilliam would not be amused and that realization was the one that prompted her to get up.

There was a second door in the wall beside the headboard. It was slightly ajar, admitting a sliver of light. The bathroom was obviously that way. Shannyn realized that there were no clothes flung on the floor anymore, and her bra and panties were on the nightstand closest to the partly-open door.

---