Page 16 of Billionaire's Fake Plus One

I stay in my head, trying to imagine a scenario where mine and Lucien’s interactions won’t be awkward without the girls until he slows the car down, coming to a stop in front of a nondescript store on Main Street.

I lift my head from the window to stare at him. “Why are we stopping?”

“We need to get you some things, remember?” He turns off the ignition and gets out of the car. My mood lifts a little, as some excitement trickles in. I also get out of the car.

Lucien glares at me. “Next time, wait in the car so I can get your door,” he berates softly as he takes my hand.

I jump a little, not expecting the touch. “But why?”

His scowl deepens, not missing my reaction. “Because I wouldn’t let my girlfriend get her own door. And will you stop fidgeting? If you can’t even stand me touching you, we’ll never be able to pull this off.”

The problem is not whether I can stand his touch. It’s that I like it a little too much. Warmth spreads and tingles down my arms, pooling low in my belly. His large hands brush down my arms before he takes my hand in his, causing me to jump and an exasperated sigh to leave his lips. This is going to take some work.

He opens the store door and drops my hand, gesturing for me to go in before him. I immediately miss the warmth of his hand and berate myself when a cold feeling descends on me. I startle when I see that the entire store is empty, and four attendants are standing in a row in front of us, as if they’ve been waiting for us. They execute a short bow, and an elegantly dressed woman steps forward.

“Welcome, Mr. Baldwin. I’m Lena, the store manager.” She turns to me with a small smile and executes another bow. I bend my head too, bowing with her, but Lucien’s hand wraps around the back of my neck to lift my head up. Electricity spreads from that point of contact pleasantly through my body, and I shiver.

Lena leads us deeper into the store and gestures for us to take a seat. I sink into the couch and jolt up when Lucien sits beside me so closely that his thigh is pressing against mine. He sprawls over the couch and casually stretches his hand around my neck, pulling me into him. My pulse starts pounding fiercely, and I glance up in surprise. He simply raises his brow at me, the corner of his lips lifting up slightly.

We’re starting now?Gulp.

One of the attendants comes forward with a tray of crystal flutes and places it on the coffee table in front of us. Another trails behind her with a bottle of champagne. The soft trickling sound of liquid spilling into glass fills the air. The attendant who poured the drink hands Lucien and me each a glass. I murmur, thanks, and as I take a sip, Lena pushes a rack of clothes forward. Then the last attendant pushes another rack as well. Well, is this how the top 1% shop for their clothes?

Lena beckons me. I carefully place my glass down before I get to my feet. I finger the soft fabrics, and my blood sings. I try to look for a tags, but they are conspicuously missing. Holy shit, these must be designer brands. I turn to my fake boyfriend.

He’s staring at me with hooded eyes, the glass flute held loosely in his right hand, and my heart skips a beat. “Lucien, there are no price tags.”

He leans back on the couch with a smirk and lifts the glass to his lips. He sips the drink, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. A wave of heat hits me, and I sway a little. Fuck, he’s so hot.

“The prices are inconsequential, anyway.” He shrugs carelessly. “I don’t care about it, and you shouldn’t either. Pick the items you want.” When I hesitate, he gets to his feet and struts over to me.

His hand reaches to tuck a strand of stray hair from my face. His touch lingers more than strictly necessary, and my lips part as that tawny gaze holds me hostage. He suddenly moves back, breaking the spell, leaving me to shake my head. I have to stay focused: this is a game, damnit.

He walks to the rack and picks up a beautiful purple dress. It has a high back and should reach just below my knees. It’s perfectly modest except for the plunging V neckline.

“You have such a great eye!” Lena enthuses, clapping her hands excitedly. “That will look phenomenal on her. You have to try it!” I grab the offered dress meekly and take it to the changing room. I stare at my reflection, wearing the dress. I turn this way and that. Fuck, this looks way sexier than I anticipated.

“Is there a problem?” Lena asks as she knocks on the door of the changing room a few minutes later. I hesitate, then open the door. “Wow,” she mutters, then leads me back to where Lucien is standing, now fingering a red dress on the rack.

He turns when he hears our footsteps and goes still. His pupils dilate, his amber eyes going liquid as he watches me approach.

When I stop in front of him, he reaches a hand out and places a finger at the base of my throat, the point where my pulse is fluttering madly. His eyes hold mine as he slowly trails his hand around my neck and down the valley between my breasts. Goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I sway into him, unable to keep steady on my own.

“We’ll take the dress,” he murmurs, then abruptly turns away. I blow out a shaky breath, placing a hand against my quivering belly. I model several more outfits, but he stays safely seated on the other side of the room, and I’m both relieved and bothered by it.

12

Rachel. Private Jets are the bomb! OMG ??

Lucien pulls his Porsche into a large private hanger with warehouse flooring and white walls. He gives me a hard look just before he opens his door and gets out. I bite my lip as I wait for him to round the car before opening my door. I forgot about his rule when we left the private store, and I received that same hard look from him for disobeying.

He closesthe door after I get out and opens the trunk to pick up three duffel bags: two containing my newly-purchased wardrobe items. Designer clothes, heels, purses… everything I might need for the week-long sojourn. He arranges the bags so all three are in one hand. Then he opens a door at the back of the hanger.

Suddenly we’re standingat the lip of a very large runway; a few feet away is a sparkling white private jet. Lucien places his hand at the small of my back as he leads me to three uniformed individuals, standing at the foot of the stairs. He introduces me to Josh, the pilot, Logan, the copilot, and Taylor, the air hostess, as his girlfriend. I shake their hands. After the pleasantries have been exchanged, Lucien waves me up the stairs. I’m hyper aware of him close behind me as I climb the short stairs into the plane.

I falterat the top of the stairs as the luxurious cabin comes into view. Lush white carpets. Glossy white walls. Beautiful white arm chairs and couches arranged around three white tables. I lift a hand up to cover my open mouth. I mean, a couch on a plane!

Lucien places his hand on my lower back and gently nudges me forward. I give him an OMG look, but he simply smirks at me, so I try to shake myself out of it.

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