Page 21 of Billion Dollar Lie

Itmustbe about the suit jacket. I keep reminding myself of that, despite the voice inside my head that’s trying to convince me otherwise. Hope is lacing that voice with a misguided desire for more—for something I swore to give up on. This man may have looked at me as if he really saw me, he may have talked to me as if he cared, and he may have worried for my safety when hell broke loose—but he also disappeared without a trace, as if he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

He just wants his suit jacket back, that is all.

I caress the thick fabric as my eyes trail down to my lap, remembering the many times I held the jacket up to my face to inhale his scent. Now that I’m about to lose this remnant of our brief encounter it feels as if something—or someone—importantisbeing ripped away from me.

It’s so typical, me getting attached to someone who clearly doesn’t want me, not for longer than a night;a quick chat while he feastson the sight of my almost naked body, before hestealsan illicit kiss from me.

A kiss I can’t forget. A kiss that evolved into a dirty dream, where I could feel his hands all over me, caressing me, teasing me until...

I need to stop.

I’m sure he didn’t waste a single thought about me or the kiss since I last saw him. A man like him would never settle for a girl like me.

I need to remember that.

I bring the jacket up to my face one last time, closing my eyes as I breathe in the fragrance that will soon become nothing but a distant memory.

And, of course, this is the moment when the door swings open and I’m met with Miss Barry’s raised eyebrows—and his gorgeous face right behind her.

I yank the fabric away from my face, but I’m sure it was too late and they saw exactly what I was doing. Damn, why did I have to embarrass myself?

He looks just as handsome as I remember, dressed a little more casuallywith a dark cashmere pullover, black jeans and brand new sneakers, but with that same intense stare and his dark hair gelled in place atop the clean-shaven undercut. I feel like a plain wallflower next to him—and painfully underdressed, even though I’m wearing one of my best blouses.

“Cassidy, this is Mr. Reid,” Miss Barry says, introducing him with a wide arm gesture.

“Logan Reid,” he elaborates as he reaches his hand out to me. “Please call me Logan.”

I jump from my seat, clutching the suit jacket against my chest with one arm while I reciprocate his gesture. His handshake is firm, but not too strong, and I try to ignore the treacherous sparks that erupt throughout my core at his touch.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr… err Logan,” I utter, locking eyes with him for a split second before I catch Miss Barry’s probing gaze.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she says, raising an eyebrow as if to warn me to behave, before she throws him a polite smile.“Please, make yourself comfortable,” she adds, pointing toward her own chair at the other side of the table. “I’ll be down the hall, if you need me.”

“Thank you.” He regards her with a short nod before she leaves the room and closes the door from the outside.

“Shall we?”he says, beckoning me to sit back down.

I follow his invitation and am surprised when he sinks down in the chair right next to me, instead of accepting Miss Barry’s offer to use her chair, which would be less awkward.

“I see you brought my suit jacket,” he comments, jutting his chin in my direction. “That’s very nice of you.”

“Oh, yes, here,” I hurry to reply, shoving it in his hands a little too eager. “I’m sorry you had to come all the way here to get it back. I would have returned it that night, but—”

“It’s okay,” he cuts me off, raising his hand in an appeasing motion. “This is not why I’m here, actually, but thank you.”

“Oh, I… I thought this is why you wanted to see me,” I stutter.

He shakes his head as he takes the jacket from me, neatly folding it in his lap before he casts me a benevolent smile.

“I see Miss Barry really didn’t tell you anything?”

I shake my head. “No?”

“Good, she wasn’t supposed to,” he says vaguely, crossing his arms in front of his strong chest as he eyes me. “I have a proposition for you, an unusual offer.”

I perk up, fueled by a weird tingling at the back of my neck. “What kind of an offer?”

“I need a fiancée,” he reveals. “A fake fiancée, to be precise. It’s just for a couple of months, maybe a bit longer, depending on how things go—”

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