Page 60 of Faking It

“Like what, like someone’s soul possessed your body? I refuse to believe I’m talking to Ana Kent right now. Cold, distant, we-don’t-need-to-know-each-other Ana; where is she?”

“Ha, ha.”

“And she’s laughing.” I slap my forehead. “Luckily for you, I have an exorcist on speed dial.”

“You’ve got jokes, I see.” She laughs out loud this time, the action reminding me of a light being switched on. Her eyes are all sparkly, color filling her cheeks. She’s even got dimples. Damn, can she get any cuter?

“Seriously, though,” she says when her laughter subsides. “Consider the listening ear payback for saving my ass.” She raises two fingers. “Twice.”

“In that case, you owe me more than a listening ear,” I tease.

She points at me. “Don’t even go there, Mr. Flavor of the Week.”

I don’t know if I’m more disturbed by the reference to my wild past or the fact she thinks I’m trying to score. It’s been a week since we kissed. A week since I almost went insane in that hotel room. I’m still patting myself on the back for my self-control because, damn, it took everything out of me not to get up from the floor and give her what she wanted. Yes, she wanted it. She wanted me. The scent of her arousal was so overpowering, even from where I lay. For the first time, I didn’t jump at the chance to fuck a woman just because we both wanted to. Wonder of wonders, I know.

“It’s not even like that. I’m simply asking you to have dinner with me,” I reply.

“Oh.” I see the hesitation stamped in her features. For some reason, it pushes me to explain.

“We’re still putting on a front, remember?” I say. “The more people see us in the open, the likelier they’ll keep believing we’re actually together.”

She mulls it over, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “You have a point. Just tell me when and where, and I’ll show up.”

“Now.”

“Now?”

“There’s an Irish restaurant right down the road that we can try,” I reply quickly, the impulsive response giving me a head trip. I don’t know why the thought came to me, but I’m already looking forward to being away from this crowd, alone with her.

Ana glances furtively around the party. “We can’t leave now. Cheryl hasn’t even made her appearance.”

“There are at least three hundred people here. She won’t miss us.” I take a step toward her, and she looks at me warily. “You might think my company isn’t as exciting as this party,” I mutter, offering my hand to her. “But I’d love it if you’d take a chance on me.”

Chapter 22

Ana

The earnest plea in Gideon’s eyes steals my breath. Or maybe it’s those words he just uttered. Or maybe it was the way he said them.Take a chance on me.

Soft, yet sexy, muttered from lips that look so delectable right now. I wet my own, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. I don’t know where this sudden nervousness came from. I can handle being alone with Gideon, right?

“It’s just dinner, Ana,” he says, clearly seeing my hesitation.

I disagree. It’s not just dinner. It’s sitting in an enclosed space, breathing the same air, his scent, hearing that raspy voice, getting every ounce of his attention, everything I don’t need right now. A week away from Gideon did nothing to simmer my attraction to him. I can’t imagine what some alone time will do.

He’s right, though. We need to be seen out in public. Besides, it’s just dinner in a restaurant filled with other people. I can handle it. I can handle my attraction to him.

“If I’m pushing too much, I apologize,” Gideon says, staring at me with remorse.

“No, you’re not. Dinner sounds like a good plan.” I sweep my hand around the space. “Besides, I’ve had enough of this party, anyway.”

Gideon gives me an easy smile. “Awesome.”

“Just let me send Tori a message since I’d asked her to pick me up.” I reach for my phone and type a message to Tori, letting her know Gideon and I are going for dinner.Just dinner!I add, knowing her mind will immediately go to the gutter.

“Shall we?” Gideon says, sweeping his arm to the exit. I nod, falling in step with him as we walk out. He calls to a few people while we make our way, his hand resting on my lower back. My stupid hormones are already going out of whack from that simple touch. By the time we climb down the front steps to receive his car from the valet, I’m battling with a serious urge to move closer to him.

Luckily, the valet pulls up before I make that crazy move. When I slide onto the leather seat in his car, though, I realize the battle isn’t over. In fact, it’s just beginning. We’re in a confined space. A private space. Again. This time, it’s a space that smells so much like Gideon that I’m tempted to hold my breath.

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