Page 56 of The Billionaire’s Fake Fiancée
The banquet manager calls out to her from inside the hotel. Before I can protest, she's excused herself, promising to be back in a few minutes.
I’m left standing alone with a man who I have no wish to be with.
Before I can make an excuse and leave, he reaches out to me, linking his arm through mine, in a gesture meant to be paternal.
With reluctance, I follow Darren to the other side of the grounds. The hotel is hidden by the tall hedges.
We're quite alone, and it doesn't reassure me.
I tug my arm from his and, to my relief, he lets go. But he doesn't step aside. Instead, he folds his arms over his chest and balances himself on legs slightly spread out to hold up his weight
He's fit for his age, wears his power like he's earned it. An almost magnetic appeal vibrates off him, and I take a step back to put distance between us.
A gesture not lost on him.
"Do I scare you, little girl?" His condescending tone sets me on edge.
"No," I say.
Not bothering to rise to the 'little girl' insult.
Any emotion I reveal will be construed as weakness—or worse, be used against me.
I must not show how much he affects me. For he's familiar, the flavor of the energy rippling off him reminds me of Jace. An older, more mature Jace, a more cynical one. Someone deeper, darker, with more secrets to hide.
I meet his gaze head on, refusing to blink or look away. Stay quiet. Wait for him to speak first.
Wait.
When Darren does speak, I heave a sigh of relief at winning this minor battle.
"No. You're not scared," he concedes, and his features shift. He's studied me and come to some conclusion.
"You're young in years, yet street smart," Darren's arm snakes out, latching onto my wrist.
I jump.
"How much is he paying you?" He asks.
I frown. "What do you mean?"
"Cut the bullshit," Darren's hold tightens.
Pain shoots through me, but I bite my tongue, stop myself from exclaiming aloud. Instead digging my feet into the ground, I force my muscles to relax.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I say, pleased my voice comes out cold, flat.
"You're not Jace's girlfriend." He says without preamble.
My throat closes. I swallow the sickness that threatens to rise before saying. "You sound very confident about that."
I keep my tone light, but my heart is thumping with fear.
"Oh, I am." He barks a laugh. "You're too intelligent. Hell, you actually have a personality. Not the type he normally likes to fuck."
I cringe at the bald statement.
"Jace is paying you to put up a front, to convince me that he's changed, ready to come back to the fold. He made a mistake bringing you here. He's trying too hard and that gives him away."
