Page 75 of A Win-Win Situation

"Well, why didn’t you join me then?" I tease while looking at him through my lashes. He laughs as he lifts my extended legs so he can sit down and then puts them over his lap.

"Thomas called me again. I have some news."

That piques my interest. Thomas is his best friend who lives in Paris. "He’s a little upset that he wasn’t my best man at the wedding—not that I had one—but his wife has invited us to their home in Paris this weekend. I guess it’s their way of congratulating us. Amélie is great, you’ll love her. She’s sweet, just like you."

"I’m sorry, what?" I don’t think I heard him correctly.

"We leave this Friday."

A beat passes, then I pull my legs away from him and sit up. "Will we stay with them?"

"Yes."

This Friday, to Paris? Also known as the city of love? And then what? We’ll parade around as husband and wife, trying to convince his dear friends that we’re madly in love.

Oh, and let’s not forget thattomorrowis Friday.

"We can’t do that. Lucas, tomorrow is Friday! That’s not a lot of time for me to prepare. You’ve got to stop surprising me with last minute events." I shake my head. This is the third time—first when we got married, then the brunch, and now this.

"Yes we can, and we will."

I shake my head again. "No, we can’t. It’s one thing to pretend in front of colleagues and stakeholders for a few hours here and there. But do you really think you could pretend to be my husband for a whole weekend?"

"Yes." His answer is short and determined.

I laugh. "You have the emotional capacity of a battery that is about to run out. There’s no way you could pretend in front ofthem for that long. We have to look natural, and as good as I am, I don’t think I could do it. They’re going to find out about us, are you ready for that?"

"Like a battery that’s about to run out, you say?" He smirks and turns to me.

"Yes, you can fake it for a dinner or two, maybe, but never a full-on weekend."

He looks to the side and chuckles, displaying the dimple I want to kiss. Oh, and that sound makes my whole body tingle.

"I mean we both know it. There’s no Oscar on the horizon for you," I say, a giggle escaping my lips.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I just mean that we’ve been doing a good job so far, but we’ve been playing it safe. A true newlywed couple would act a little bit more obsessed with each other."

"Obsessed?"

"Yes, we’re supposed to be in our honeymoon-phase. People expect us to be all over each other, I guess. But obviously, we’re not going to act like that, which is why we shouldn’t go to Paris. They’ll see right through us."

"Oh, so you're saying I'm not affectionate enough?" At that, he moves closer to me, a lazy smile tugging at his lips as he cups my cheek. Heat rises to my face as I struggle to find the right words.

"What are you doing?" I finally get out, trying to cover up my sudden shock at his closeness. He lets out a husky chuckle and leans in closer, his breath warm against my skin, his woodsy smell makes me think all kinds of thoughts—most of them dirty.

"What do you mean?" he whispers, and it sets my nerves on edge. I try to compose myself, but his touch and proximity make it nearly impossible.

"You're getting awfully close."

"What's the matter, Leora? I just want to get a better look at you." His murmur is low and seductive. I can feel my heart hammer as I struggle to keep my composure.

"Well, you can look from over there," I say, pointing my finger behind him to the other end of the room.

"You're very funny. I never realized it before," he says, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. "I like it."

My stomach flutters at his words, his touch sending electricity through my body. I struggle to form a coherent response, my words catching in my throat. "I-I'm . . ."

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