Page 21 of Billionaire's Fake Plus One

Her head tilts back even more, and her lips are so close to mine. Her soft breath hits my lips, and my gaze drops to her mouth. They’d probably taste like the butterscotch or vanilla scent that always seems to cling to her skin.The smell has been distracting, to say the least.Her hair will be thick and silky in my grip, her tight ass soft in my hands. My mind spirals wildly around the different ways I could kiss her - explore her, taste her.

I tighten my grip around her, fighting the desperate urge to kiss the fuck out of her. To suckle the rich wine from her tongue. To run my hand down that pulse fluttering madly in her throat. To place a soft kiss there to sooth it. Run my tongue down her throat to her perky tits. I wonder what color her nipples are.

Her lips are suddenly on mine, and I freeze. My pulse goes crazy, breath ceasing. Thump. Thump. Thump. It takes all my willpower and self-control to pull back. “You’re drunk,” I tell her regretfully.

No matter how badly I want her, I’m not going to take advantage of her. If she looks at me that way again tomorrow when she’s sober and she places those soft lips against mine again when she’s aware of her actions, then all bets are off.

15

Fuck, Rachel. I did a very bad thing. A very very bad thing indeed ??

Iwake up slowly. Yawning widely and stretching my limbs as I roll over on the soft as hell bed. A tawny gaze meets mine from across the room, and I quickly shoot up. I instantly regret last night's decisions as claws and hammers pound mercilessly in my head. I groan in pain, raising my hands up to cradle my head - it feels so fragile. After a few moments, I raise my hand from my head slowly to test the waters and see Lucien approach me with a tall glass of water and two pills in his hand.

“Here. The ibuprofens should help with your hangover.” I take his offerings gratefully. As I take the pills and gulp down the last of the water, Lucien’s gaze catches mine. My eyes widen as memories from last night suddenly assault me. Holy fucking shit. The glass slips from my shaking fingers, but thankfully falls to the bed, not the floor.

“I see you remember,” Lucien says with a smirk. I lift my hands to my face and let out a pathetic whiny. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Willow.”

“Get out,” I groan but he doesn’t move. “Out!” I shout as I sink deeper into the bed, as much as I can sitting up and with my face covered. Thankfully, he turns around. I don’t watch him go, but only lift my head up when the door closes behind him. Fuck, did I really say all that? I turn over to my stomach and scream into the pillow. I can’t believe I tried to kiss him!And he didn’t kiss me back.This is the perfect time for the world to end, or for the ground to open up and swallow me.

I scream into the pillow some more, not caring that the action is only making my headache worse. Oh My God. How will I ever face Lucien again? Unfortunately, I have to. We’re here for five days, and I remember Evans saying there’s an itinerary in the library but we never got around to taking a look at it before I got wasted.

Shit. I not only have to face Lucien butZaneas well as the rest of the pretentious Baldwin family. Ugh. I’m not looking forward to seeing Lauren again. Zane’s mother is certifiable. Eventually I have to breathe, so I raise my head from the luscious pillow. Unfortunately. “It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. I’ll go out there and apologize for my behavior last night and then forget about it.”

Saying it out loud doesn’t make the prospect any less daunting, and I give myself a minute to be sorry for myself, then don my big girl panties. I’ve got this. I take the glass and carefully place it on the bedside table before getting up from the bed.

I trudge into the bathroom where I brush my teeth and linger more than necessary in the shower. Even putting on my brand new designer outfit doesn’t make me feel better. Okay, the buttery softness of the pale blue sundress against my skin makes me sigh with pleasure. Just a little. I brush my hair out, opting to let it down. You know, in case I need to use it to cover my face when I talk with Lucien. Then I reluctantly walk out of the bedroom.

“Oh, good. You’re ready,” Lucien says by way of greeting and tilts his head a little to the side. I look in the direction he’s indicating and see a pretty woman in a hotel uniform, heaping food on the table. “I’m glad to see I didn’t wear you out too much last night, babe.”

I know he only said that for our audience, but my face heats up, nonetheless. I stammer out an incomprehensible response as I walk deeper into the living room. The server finishes what she’s doing and curtsies before leaving the room. I swallow when the door closes softly behind her. Time to face the music.

“About last night–” I start but Lucien cuts me off with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for. Now get over here and eat. It will help your system recover.”

I bite my lip as I hover indecisively. On one hand, I’m really glad he doesn’t seem angry or even affected by the events of the previous night. On the other hand, I feel like I need to apologize. My actions were inappropriate and the things I said to him!

Lucien’s gaze glitters dangerously. “Not. One. Word,” he grits out. I sigh instead, glad at least that there’s no awkwardness. I move to the dining area and sit across from him. He nods with approval and piles a plate with scrambled eggs, toast and sausage. He pushes it to me, then makes another plate for himself. The only sound is the scraping of our utensils as we eat, but the silence isn’t uncomfortable.

Afterward, Lucien places the used dishes on the cart the waitress left behind and wheels it outside where someone will take it down to the kitchen.

“I looked over the Itinerary this morning, and we need to go over some things before we’re ready for our charade,” Lucien says, walking to the library. I follow him. He picks up a pink and gold brochure from one of the side tables and hands it to me as he takes a seat in an armchair. I choose to perch on the sofa facing him.

The front page is a portrait of Zane and a stunning woman, wrapped around each other. Her hair is a platinum blonde cropped close to her chin in a blunt style. She stares back at me through familiar blue eyes, and I squint, wondering if I’ve met her before. Surely, I would remember her if that were the case? Hers is not a face to be easily forgotten.

Beneath their picture and written in a glittering golden ink are the words: Brittany and Zane’s Wedding Itinerary. Her name doesn’t ring any bells, so I shrug the familiarity of her eyes off.

I flip past the cover. On the first page in flowery words is a generic message welcoming all guests to Half Moon Bay and expressing their extreme gratitude that we’reshowing up and showing outfor them. Queue eye roll.

I look at the next page where the activities for the week are listed out.

Day 1 – A welcome dinner and special toast this evening at 5 pm. Do people really have dinner by 5? I eat at 7 pm and I still find myself getting hungry later in the night.

Day 2 (tomorrow) – Girls day out without the boys – whatever the hell that means. “Am I expected to attend this girls day out?” I ask Lucien and he nods.

“It might not be explicitly stated in the itinerary, but I’m sure there’s something planned for the men, and it would be weird to show up with you in my arms. No matter how in love we are, it’s just not done with people in their circle.”

He says “their circle” like he’s not part of it. “Aren’t they your people? That kind of makes them your circle too,” I point out, but he just shrugs. I glance back down at the itinerary.

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