Page 62 of My Big, Fat, Fake Billionaire Wedding

She stands abruptly, pacing to the window before remembering and stepping back into the shadows. “So what’s the plan? More public appearances?”

“Yes. Hayes is crafting a strategy, but expect more high-profile events. Charity galas. Restaurant openings. Places where we’ll be photographed together.”

“And here?” she asks, her voice smaller now. “What changes here?”

“Fortunately, our private quarters remain private,” I tell her. “The bedroom wing has enhanced security measures specifically designed for privacy. The windows there have a specialized reflective coating that prevents long-range photography, and the automated blinds are programmed forcomplete coverage. The main living areas require more caution, but our personal spaces remain secure.”

Relief visibly washes over her. “So we can still have our separate bedrooms?”

I nod. “The sleeping arrangements stay the same. Except for Elena”—my housekeeper—”the staff never enters our private quarters without explicit permission, and they leave well before evening. What matters is how we appear to the outside world and in the shared spaces of the penthouse.”

“And what does that look like?” she asks, her posture relaxing slightly.

“More physical closeness when we’re in view of the windows. Meals together. Arriving and leaving together when possible. You can still go to Parsons, and your warehouse, alone of course, but everything else...” I maintain eye contact, wanting her to understand the seriousness. “Also, when staff is present, we need to behave as though we’re genuinely in love.”

She’s quiet for a long moment.

“I can do that,” she finally says, lifting her chin slightly. Always with that defiant streak of hers.

So irritating. Yet... strangely fascinating.

“There’s something else.” I stand and move toward her, closing the distance between us before seating myself again. “We need to start now. This minute. In case they’re watching.”

Confusion flashes across her face. “Start what now?”

I reach for her hand, bringing it to my lips in a gesture that feels both performative and strangely intimate. “Being convincingly in love.”

Her pulse jumps under my touch. I can feel it in her wrist. Her breath catches audibly,and a flush creeps up her neck to her cheeks. The reaction is genuine, at least. Helpful for our charade.

“I don’t know how to fake being in love,” she admits quietly, her eyes fixed on where my thumb traces circles on her palm.

“Then don’t fake it.” The words come out. “Just react naturally. Like you did at the gallery when we first met. Before you knew who I was.”

She pulls her hand away, that defiant spark returning. “You mean before I knew this was all a business arrangement with an expiration date?”

“Yes.” I step closer, crowding her space slightly. Testing boundaries. “Before all of that. When it was just chemistry between two people.”

“You’re asking a lot.” Her voice wavers slightly.

“I know.” And I do know. I’m asking her to blur the lines we’ve carefully established. To risk the emotional entanglement we’ve both sworn to avoid. I’m asking her to pretend to want me, when the last thing I need is to remember how much I want her.

But Blackwell has forced my hand. And perhaps hers as well.

“I need you to trust me,” I tell her, surprising myself with the sincerity in my voice. “This isn’t just about the business anymore. Blackwell plays dirty. If he exposes our arrangement, there could be legal consequences for both of us.”

Fear flashes in her eyes. “You mean—”

“I mean I won’t let that happen,” I interrupt firmly. “But I need your help.”

Something shifts in her expression then. A softening. A decision.

“What do we do first?” she asks.

Relief washes through me, followed by somethingmore complicated. I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile.

“First, we have dinner together. Visibly, near the windows. We talk. We laugh. We touch.” I tuck a stray curl behind her ear, noting how she shivers slightly at the contact. “And tomorrow, we meet with Hayes to plan our public strategy.”

She nods, taking a deep breath as if steadying herself. “I can do that.”

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