Page 17 of Unmasked

“It’s a pleasure.” Jerry stuck out his hand, and the redhead hesitated a moment before accepting the gesture.

“Likewise. I’m a huge fan your restaurants, Mr. McPartlin.”

“Please, call me Jerry.” He kissed the back of her hand before looking back at Damian. “Charming and glamorous. Looks like you’re a lucky man.”

“Not lucky enough to secure your business, on account of my image.” He couldn’t resist the little barb, especially since it appeared as though his story had been bought. “You can’t blame a man for wanting to steal a moment away with his soon-to-be wife, can you?”

“Perhaps I was too quick to judge.” His gaze lingered on the redhead’s hand, which wasn’t wearing a ring. “Didn’t you propose with a diamond?”

Shit. His mind whirred again.

“We’re having something custom-made,” she said, her voice silky smooth as though she hadn’t been panting and breathless a few moments ago. “Damian knows how much I like things to be perfect.”

She knew his name? He turned to the woman and her face tilted up to him, her lips full and pink. They curved into a smile. Of course, the security staff had said it aloud when they’d checked his invite. At least that bit of detail could lend extra authenticity to their story.

“That’s my Ariel.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close. He sensed McPartlin’s eye lingering on her. “She knows exactly what she wants.”

“Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.” McPartlin nodded.

“We still need to check your invite, miss,” one of the security guys said.

The redhead stiffened beside him. Her hand tightened around his, squeezing in a way that told Damian she was exactly who they were looking for. No wonder she wasn’t keen to give up her name.

“I’m afraid Ariel’s invite met with an unfortunate end,” he said. “In the bathroom.”

The guards looked at one another, unsure how to handle that information.

“It’s my fault,” the redhead said, her voice perfectly pleasing and yet slightly breathy. “I was at the sink and my clutch got caught and spilled open.”

“It’s not your fault, darling.” He rubbed her back in slow circles, the role of doting fiancé taking him over fully. A wicked smile curved on his lips. “I shouldn’t have been so rough.”

A small gasp sounded on her lips, but it was cut off by one of the guards clearing his throat. “Well, then. We should get moving.”

“It was great to see you again.” Damian nodded to McPartlin as he turned to leave, as well.

“Yes.” The older man looked them both over once more, as if trying to figure something out. “Enjoy the evening.”

Damian and the redhead stood close together on the balcony without saying a word until the men had descended to the ground level. Her relief was palpable in the evening air, and she sagged against him.

“So you’re a gate-crasher, huh?” Damian glanced down into her wide hazel eyes. “That’s a bold move. This is a very important event.”

“It certainly is,” she replied smoothly. “Oh, dear future husband of mine.”

He chuckled. Neither one of them was in a position to judge—they were both liars. Or both saviours, depending on how you looked at it.

“I guess this means I’m stuck with you for the rest of the evening, then?” she said, resting her head against his arm.

“Looks that way.”

He could think of worse ways to spend an evening—and at least having company would keep him from going crazy with all the snobbery in the ballroom. However, he’d put himself into a tight spot with Jerry McPartlin. While letting the man think he had a fiancée could work to his advantage, he’d have to make sure that Jerry McPartlin didn’t need to see his “future wife” ever again.

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