Page 18 of Seduced by Her Billionaire Fake Fiancé

To her credit,she did better for the rest of the night. Max had been ready to pull his hair out in frustration, as Andie sat beside him like a human ice block, barely moving, not smiling, not daring to look at him. But after their discussion, she did at least appear to relax, following his suggestions in a way that he found, to his surprise, a little unsettling.

She leaned into him, and his body responded without his consent, his cock straining against his pants, his whole body aware of her softness and sweet vanilla smell. She put a hand on his knee, despite the fact that was beneath the table and away from Conrad’s line of sight. It was just a relaxed, natural pose, exactly as an engaged woman might behave. But there was something in it that undid Max just a little, that made him want to forget, just for a while, that this was fake.

Not the engagement. God knew he never intended to get married, and certainly not to Andie, but the attraction between them was something he found himself thinking about over and over and wanting to capitalize on. True, they weren’t a real couple, and they wouldn’t be so stupid as to forget their boundaries. But when they were with other people, acting like a couple was imperative, and suddenly, he saw a way to assuage his need for her, to control his desire by drip-feeding it snack-size portions of Andie…

And so, with her body leaned into his chest, he let his arm fall around her properly, his fingertips at her hip, swirling, drawing invisible circles. He felt her reaction and it was like a red rag to a bull, her sudden intake of breath spiked his blood pressure and jerked his arousal, making it almost impossible to focus on Conrad’s conversation.

“How long are you in New York for?” Conrad asked, looking from Max to Andie. Max tried to quell the x-rated direction of his thoughts.

“We’ll fly back to Italy tomorrow, to tell my family.”

“And Carlisle?” Conrad asked, reaching for his balloon of sherry.

“I’ll let him know,” Andie murmured. “I’ll call him.”

Conrad nodded. “No time to see him on this trip?”

“Unfortunately, not,” Andie murmured. “We really only came to tell you.”

But Max could hear the regret in her voice and found himself saying, “We can stay an extra day,bella,if that means getting to see your brother.”

She looked up at him, her face tilting, and because of how she was sitting, it meant they were so close, her face just an inch or so from his.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’d like to meet him.”

Andie’s eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. But she remembered their audience and played along, at least for now. “Okay,” she said quietly, still looking up at him, as though she couldn’t look away, a slight frown on her lips, a look in her eyes of being a little lost. He understood. Slowly, without really thinking it through, or knowing what he intended, Max dipped his head, his lips brushing hers, intending to offer the kiss as some kind of proof of his affection for her and her wishes, only something happened when their lips met and it was as though his body went into high alert, into a frenzy of need and desire.

Every single piece of attraction he’d felt for Andie when she’d first appeared in his home had only strengthened since then, tempting him, taunting him, and now that he’d claimed her lips, he found he didn’t want to let go, especially not when he felt her murmur and purr into his mouth. But they were in a restaurant with her father and God knew it was the last place he wanted to be when he gave into the ravaging flames of lust that were running unchecked through his body. He pulled away, with monumental effort, and turned his focus back to Conrad—or at least appeared to. Every cell was focused on Andie, aware of her, reverberating at a frequency that perfectly matched hers.

“Good,” Conrad said, lifting a hand in the air to signal for the cheque. “I’m glad we did this. I’m pleased to have had the chance to get to know you better.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You’re a good match. I’m happy for you, Andie-Sue,” he smiled, using what Max presumed was a childhood nickname, so sweet and girly, for a woman who was sophisticated and whip smart. But then, it was a parent’s prerogative to continue seeing a child as they’d once been.

He felt her stiffen, knew she was uncomfortable with lying, and on autopilot began to move his hand once more, this time, beneath the table, he curved his palm over her knee, creeping it higher, to her thigh. There was one way to ensure the guilt of lying to her father didn’t overshadow what they were doing—and that was to absorb her into the same sensual fog that was crowding him, at least when they were with other people.

Suddenly, it seemed like a huge silver lining that they’d have to do this—pretend for the benefit of others. He was looking forward to kissing her again already…

“Don’t kiss me again,”she snapped, as soon as they were in the car together, the screen up between them and the driver. Her pulse was still erratic, her lips tingling, her body surging with feelings she didn’t recognize.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I don’t like it, and it’s not necessary.”

“Both are untrue.”

Her eyes widened at how blatantly he was calling her a liar and dismissing her words. “I’m serious, Max.”

“As am I.” In the back of the car, he moved closer, his large frame dwarfing hers. “Kissing you, from time to time, is going to be absolutely necessary. And we both know you liked it just fine.”

Her lips parted on an expulsion of breath, surprise rendering her mute. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know women and I know desire, and I know you were as turned on by that kiss as I was.”

Her eyes jerked to his, uncertain, shocked. “You were?”

And though if he’d been thinking clearly, he would never have done it, he reached for her wrist and brought her hand to his lap, so she could feel for herself the evidence of his desire for her. He’d been fighting an erection almost all night and now, back in his car, close to her, so close he could kiss her again easily, he found desire swamping him, making him feel like a hormonal teenager rather than a very experienced man of the world.

“Max,” she whispered, eyes closed, tormented. And God, he liked shocking her, thrilling her, making her face the truth of the chemistry they shared.

---