Page 49 of Taken By the Fake Fiancé

“Hey, Buddy.” I begin to say.

I can't believe that I'd woken up this morning and thought that the kisses I'd shared with Felicity on the bed were the worst that could happen.

“Have a great time with Mom, all right?”

Eli nods, I pat his hair affectionately, crouching a little low to drop a kiss on his cheeks.

Eli frowns as he makes his way back to his mom, I hold back a chuckle. Amelia doesn't say anything, neither does she turn to wave goodbye. When they're out the door, I make my way straight to the telephone to make a quick call to my attorney to brief him on what's to come because if Amelia really does want to take Eli away, it wouldn't happen without a fight.

Chapter Thirteen

Felicity

Adozenquestionscoalesceas I sit on the plush couch in Declan’s study, waiting for him to wrap up his phone conversation.

I have no idea about what he wants since he refused to disclose the information over the phone. His voice was terrifyingly urgent and strained. I know we didn’t part ways on the best of terms yesterday morning, so I wasn’t expecting him to call and ask that I come over to his house.

Has his father found out the truth about our relationship? Did I do something wrong? Or is he going to end it because we kissed?

Gosh!

My mind swirls as the questions weigh heavily, making it difficult for me to concentrate on anything else.

I’m still not over Friday night’s experience. The event is still weighing heavily on my mind, and today--? Just thinking about how Declan's tongue coaxed my lips open teasingly and possessively, causes heat to ripple through my veins.

Declan sure knows how to ignite a burning desire in a woman, and I can't deny the fact that I felt an overwhelming need to savor the scorching sensation that obliterates judgment.

I gingerly tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear, then adjust on the couch as my center throbs uncomfortably.

I need a drink; something blindingly strong to dull this intense lust and quiet the craziness burrowing through my mind.

I scan the large space, hoping to find a bar tucked into one of these corners. And yes, the second my eyes spot the dark wood shelf with five bottles of liquor and crystal glasses, I sigh in relief and walk to it with slightly wobbly legs.

"Hey."

I feel the hairs on my arms stand on end as his steady footsteps echo behind me.

I release a heavy sigh and uncap the bottle of Louis XIII Cognac, pour a decent amount into the tall crystal glass, and then raise my head to stare at Declan as he draws closer.

"Do you need something to drink?" I ask, tipping my glass at him with a smile that makes my cheek hurt. Nevertheless, I feel an odd sense of comfort as his gaze skims over my face.

"Yes, please."

I grab another glass, pour him a drink, and place it on the countertop.

His glance darts between the drink and my face, frowning slightly. I hold my breath, expecting him to ask why I'm acting so stiff, but he doesn't. Instead, he motions, with his chin, at the long couch with pillows neatly arranged against it.

"Let's go sit over there. I don't think you'll want to stand and have this conversation."

My brows knot in confusion.

"Is everything okay, Declan?"

He lowers himself on the couch and then pats the space beside him. I eyeball it cautiously, rolling on my heels.

Chuckling, he says, "I just want to talk, Felicity. I promise."

The words cause a smile to spread across my lips, but they do nothing to ease the tension gnawing at the back of my mind. I plop down beside him, dropping the barely touched cognac on the side stool.

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