Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“It has to look authentic,” he says.
“A whole year of my life. Awesome.”
“This has to work for me too,” he says gruffly. “A one-year gig for a million dollars up front—that’s more than fair, Sass.” He stands loosely yet firmly, a statue carved in raw emotion.
I hate that it looks so good on him.
Then again, he’s got the jawline and the soul-stripping eyes that look good with everything.
“One year,” I muse. “I think I can handle that.”
For Pawsome Hearts, I will. Really, what’s one measly year of my life when it could keep the clinic alive?
It might even give us a fighting chance to revive its former glory. Dr. Ezzie had the love but not the energy. If new people come in with passion and heart, there’s no telling how we could turn it around.
“So, let’s hear it. What am I in for?” I ask.
“Your obligations, you mean?” He stops to think. I do my best not to notice the sharp way his gaze flicks across the water, watching a huge cargo ship pass by. “We’ll need to make some public appearances. Mandatory and tightly controlled, especially early on. We’ll want the shit-stirrers and local media to see us on our own terms.”
Sensible. Unfortunately.
I breathe through stabbing anxiety.
The attention can’t be much worse than the current mess, and this time I’ll know it’s coming.
“You’ll have to meet my parents too,” he says carefully. “I’ll keep them the hell away as much as possible, but to really sell it on my end, you’ll have to play girlfriend.” He pauses, and his eyes lock on mine. “At some point, we’ll probably have to be engaged.”
Engaged.
Deep breath, Lena.
I don’t know how I ignore the sheer panic ripping through me, but somehow I manage not to freak.
This is what high-paid fakery involves. And if I want to save Pawsome Hearts, I need to commit now.
It won’t be forever.
“Okay, understood.”
“We should also discuss physical boundaries. Better now than later, to clear up any misunderstandings.” That razor-sharp gaze slides back to me, weirdly gentle behind his intensity.
If a shark could apologize before snacking on a fish, this is what it would look like.
“Physical boundaries,” I repeat numbly.
Why does it feel like it’s ninety degrees outside?
“What you’re comfortable with, specifically. Obviously, there has to be some touch.”
Some touch.
Oh my God, stop.
There’s only so much my heart can take before it shorts out.
“. . . What are you suggesting?”
“Holding hands, for one. Hugging, kissing, nothing too scandalous. About what you’d expect for public affection.”
“Kissing?” My voice squeaks.
Sit down, you prude. You’ve kissed men before.
But I’ve never fake-kissed them.
And I’ve certainly never wrestled lips with a man descended from the Olympian gods of this city.
I’ve just bitten off way, way more than I can chew.
“That’s what couples do, yeah. Don’t tell me you’re that clueless?” Brady’s smile returns, more wicked than ever.
“I know what lovers do, idiot. Spare me the birds-and-the-bees lecture.”
“Good, then you get why it’s nonnegotiable.”
“Right.” I clear my throat. “That’s . . . fine, I guess. I can kiss.”
“Can you?” He narrows his eyes.
“Yes! I mean, it would be weird if we didn’t, right? People would talk.”
“They would.” His devilish grin slices me in two.
“Cool, then it’s settled.”
Good thing I’m not trying to get him to date me for real.
I looked into him thoroughly when I did my Google stalking. So much spilled tea that causes him so much grief today.
Scorned models.
Dicey hookups.
Public spats.
Casual affairs with women whose appearance is their livelihood and who owe enough in taxes to make me pale.
I am so not in his league. Not even in the same zip code.
I mean, I clean up okay.
But there are levels to social value. And what’s the point of getting your nails done pretty when tomorrow you might be cleaning up puppy barf?
“Well, if that’s the nitty-gritty, I guess we’re done. You should get going before people notice us together,” I say.
“Isn’t that the point now?” Brady’s eyes spark.
Ugh, it is.
“But not until we have a contract in place.” I hold up my hand. “Thanks for the apology, though. And for reassuring me you’re not a pile of tapeworms in a suit.”
Snorting, he looks at the hand I extend, then my face.
His lip curls, feral and sensual in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
Then he steps closer, knocking my hand away, and catches my face in his hands. His palms feel so warm against my cheeks.
But it’s nothing like the hellfire when his lips meet mine.
Holy flaming shit.
For a second, I’m too stunned to react.
I’m not sure I can react.
My knees lose their structural integrity as he hits me with high-voltage Brady Pruitt passion.
Blazing breath.
Teeth. Lips. Tongue.
All him.
We haven’t signed a thing yet, but he’s looting my mouth.
And there’s no prayer of pointing that out, because his kiss is too searing to stop. His tongue flicks at my bottom lip, and my mouth opens without meaning to.