Oh yeah, I suck at lying.
But my friends seem to accept my explanation.
Elena smirks at Arden. "Guess that means you're next."
"Probably," Arden says in a thoughtful tone. "I mean, we have soooo much sex that it's bound to happen sooner rather than later."
For the rest of lunch, I manage to avoid talking about Dane Dixon.
But I think about him. A lot. Way more than a fake girlfriend should.
Yep. I am in so much trouble.
Chapter Six
Dane
I'm standing outside Rika's flat, fussing with my cuffs and my tie and the bouquet of roses I bought for her. Is that too much? We're not really dating. This is for show, but I felt like I should bring her something. Maybe chocolates would've been the safer choice. Are roses too romantic? Then again, we want everyone to believe we're a couple, so maybe I should've brought two dozen roses instead of one dozen.
After standing there for a minute or two, I realize I forgot to ring the doorbell.
"Bollocks," I mutter, and I punch the button.
I can't believe I actually suggested Rika should pretend to date me. The words came out of my mouth. She agreed, which left me thunderstruck. I hadn't needed to do much convincing either. Rika said yes almost immediately.
Why?
The door opens, revealing Rika.
I almost choke on my tongue again, because she looks stunning. Her green dress brings out the green flecks in her golden irises, and the way it hugs her torso and her hips accentuates her curves. Her shoes have very high, very slender heels and delicate straps that crisscross her feet, leaving her toes and most of her skin exposed. She's painted her toenails a pale shade of pink.
And her hair. She must have curled it or whatever women do to make their hair look sexy. Rika's long chestnut locks bounce around her face in loose waves and fall over her shoulders, mostly bared by her dress thanks to its thin straps. I want to bury my face in that hair and suck in a lungful of its scent. I know her hair is silky, because I felt it grazing my skin when I kissed her.
Her red lipstick makes me want to nibble on those lips, and her eye makeup has that sultry, smoky look.
Everything about her makes me want to fuck her right here in the hall.
Or we could go into her flat and have sex up against the door.
No, we can't. She's only pretending to want me.
"You look ravishing," I say, before I realize that sounds like a come-on. Fake dating, remember? Well, someone might overhear us, so I need to play the part. I thrust out the bouquet. "These are for you."
She accepts my gift and smiles, sniffing the roses. "Thank you, Dane. The flowers are beautiful, and they smell wonderful. Just let me put them in water."
Rika rushes off but returns a moment later without the flowers.
I offer her my arm. "Shall we go?"
"Yes." She slips her arm under mine. "Where are we going?"
"The Grand Salon at the Baccarat Hotel."
Her eyes widen. "Wow. I've heard that place is incredible."
"So have I, but I've never eaten there. So far, I've only ordered room service at the hotel where Celeste arranged for me to stay."
We start to walk down the hall, toward the elevator.
Rika curls her hand around my arm, leaning into me. "Where are you staying?"
"The Four Seasons."
She stops walking, swiveling her head to stare at me, her eyes wide again. "That's got to be the most expensive hotel in the city. Are you in one of those ultra-swanky suites? I bet you are. Celeste loves to go all out. She's a billionaire, so she can afford it."
I scratch my cheek, wincing. "I'm in the penthouse suite."
"Must be the biggest one they've got, right?"
"Uh, I don't know. It's something like forty-three hundred square feet." I glance around, trying to come up with a way to lessen the shock my accommodations have given her. "Your flat is very nice."
"You haven't seen it. So I guess you're telling me the door is very nice?"
She smiles teasingly and nudges me with her elbow.
"I, well---" No, I will not stammer through the whole bloody evening. Absolutely not. I take a breath to calm myself. "I meant the building is lovely."
"Celeste pays me very well, so I could afford to upgrade to a nicer apartment."
"Sorry, I'll make sure your new position pays the same amount or more."
"It's okay." She starts walking again, taking me along with her. "I agreed to be your fake girlfriend, so I can't complain about switching jobs. Besides, being your PA was only a temporary thing. You're here for two months, then we both move on."
The idea of moving on doesn't sound as appealing as it used to. I wonder why, but I decide to focus on our first date tonight and worry about everything else later.
Our first pretend date. I really need to keep that straight in my mind. She's hanging on my arm and smiling at me because I talked her into playing the role of my adoring girlfriend. That's all.
We make our way downstairs and outside, where I hail a taxi for us. Once we're in the vehicle, Rika hooks her arm under mine again, snuggling up to me, and rests her cheek on my shoulder.
She's playing the part, nothing more.
I know this, but I can't help feeling more...relaxed, with her warm body nestled against me this way. I want to nuzzle her hair, but that would be an idiotic thing to do. Then again, I'm supposed to be dating her---I want everyone else to believe that---so maybe I should shove my nose into her hair strictly to convince the driver that Rika and I are a couple. Never know, he might snap a picture of us with his mobile, and if we look like strangers sharing a taxi, that might ruin the sexy image Celeste insists I must have.
So I slip my arm around Rika.
But I stop short of burying my face in that silky, glistening hair.
"Have you been to this restaurant before?" I ask.
Rika lifts her head to give me a sardonic little smile. "Sure, I've been to one of the most expensive restaurants in New York. I date billionaires, you know."
She's teasing me, but I like it.
"Ah, sorry," I say. "That was a stupid question. I'm sure Celeste pays you very well, but not well enough to afford a place like the Grand Salon."
"Even if she did, I would've had to go there alone. My love life hasn't exactly been teeming with possibilities."
"No boyfriends?"
She shakes her head. "Not until you begged me to fake it with you."
"I didn't beg." I want to ask her why she said yes to my proposition, but her reasons aren't my business. "We'll share a new experience together, then, at the Grand Salon."
She lays her cheek on my shoulder again.
After our cab ride, we walk into the Baccarat Hotel arm in arm, with Rika smiling up at me like she honestly adores me. Has she taken acting lessons? I can't see any other way she could pull off a performance like this.