Nathan didn’t come close to giving me enough information, and if I didn’t need this money, I’d tell him where he could shove this ridiculous favor of his. But I do need the money because I really don’t want to juggle a second job as a waitress along with my new clients, so I turn to the internet for inspiration, doing a search first on Nathan’s parents, then his extended family. My search expands and I find pic after pic of Nathan and another obviously wealthy man who is never without gorgeous women dangling off both arms. Their dresses probably cost more than what Mom made in a year when I was little. Make up expertly done. Not a hair out of place. If that’s what he’s used to…
I need someone down to earth. Normal. Someone who drives a Honda and lives paycheck to paycheck and wears cheap clothes. Someone boring. Someone safe.
You know what? Screw boring. To hell with being safe!
I can do dazzling and spectacular just as well as the rest of ‘em. Nathan and his family won’t know what hit them. After some deliberation, I put on my red dress. The one that goes perfectly with my fair skin and raven hair, the one I wear when I intend to leave an impression. And I’m looking forward to watching The Prince of Darkness choke on that impression, though I’m sure I’ll still be underdressed compared to the rest of his family. Wealthy people can’t help but add a dash of pretension to everything.
After an hour fussing with my hair and makeup, I pace from my bedroom to the kitchen, my heels clicking on the outdated tile, my gaze tracing chipped and stained grout out of habit. Growing up in a series of ever more economical apartments, owning a home seemed like the epitome of success. The fact that I’m a full-blown adult with a career in interior design paying rent instead of a mortgage sits on my shoulder and whispers “FAILURE” on repeat.
I have dreams of buying an older place and renovating it room by room, turning something forgotten into something beautiful.
And I will.
But Mom’s growing pile of medical bills and the insane balloon in the cost of housing means that dream is on hold—at least until Nathan pays me.
Assuming his silence isn’t a sign he bailed and forgot to tell me the deal’s off.
I grab my phone from the counter and shoot him a text.
Helloooooo….
We’re officially out of time here. What do you want me to do?
With anyone else, I’d be worried he was in some sort of trouble. But not The Prince of Darkness. Chances are good he changed his mind and decided I wasn’t worth a phone call.
I pace a path between the front door and the kitchen a few more times before Nathan finally responds.
The Prince of Darkness
That took longer than expected but I’m done now. Meet me at this address.
No apology. No plan. Just an address that, according to my GPS, is going to take me to a bar instead of his parents’ house. Sure. Yeah. This is gonna work out just fine.
I have never met someone so infuriating. So selfish. So completely and utterly chaotic. Every interaction we have leaves me wondering what the hell just happened. As if that’s not troubling enough, my underserved libido suddenly seems to have a thing for handsome, growly men. What if my hormones take control while we’re pretending to like each other? What if he tries to kiss me? What if I let him?
What if I like it?
I take a deep breath and dig my phone out of my purse to call the whole thing off, but the memory of Mom making tea stops me in my tracks. Nathan may be the most difficult and disappointing person I’ve ever met, but I can’t jeopardize our working relationship. Not when he’s dangling much needed money my way.
With a heavy sigh, I swallow my pride and make the drive to the address he gave me.
When I pull into the parking lot, Nathan’s leaning on the side of the building. His dark hair falls into his eyes, making his chiseled face seem less imposing. He’s still wearing the jeans and T-shirt he had on at lunch. By comparison, my form fitting red dress and heels are overly formal and completely ridiculous. I pull to a stop beside his car and he pushes off the wall, looking mildly apologetic as he opens my door.
“The afternoon took an unscheduled detour.” He clears his throat and laughs humorlessly, almost daring me to challenge him as I stand, and he closes the door.
Laughing to myself, I pinch the bridge of my nose and stare at my feet. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’m really sorry. I know this puts us in a difficult situation, but this afternoon was important.” There’s a vulnerability in his voice I’m not expecting. An almost gentle energy sits in his half-smile and softens my outrage. Suddenly, Nathan seems less like a villain and more like…
Hold on now, Mina. You’re falling right into his trap. I square my shoulders and lift my chin, adding as much outrage to my voice as possible. “More important than this?”
“Yes. More important than—” Nathan finally looks at me and his lips curve into a gentle smile that transforms the atmosphere of the parking lot. “Woah.”
His voice is hushed. His nostrils flared.
I meet his eyes for a few uncomfortable seconds before looking away. “Everything okay?”
Nathan’s gaze traces my face, trailing across my cheekbones, caressing the divot between my collarbones. My breath catches and a blush warms my cheeks, my throat, then flames across my chest. I wanted him to choke on his impression, but I didn’t expect it to feel like this.
My heart races as a smirk twists his lips.
“You’re wildly overdressed.”
“If only there was something you could have done to save me from this predicament. Something like staying at the restaurant to talk through the evening…” I tap a finger against my lips. “No…that must not be it. That would be asking too much of you, I’m sure.”
“Are you done?” he asks.
“With you,” I reply, then immediately wish I could stuff the words back in my mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m done now.”
“Get it all out of your system?” Nathan lifts one playful eyebrow.
I nod sheepishly. “First things first, I guess. Your jeans and my dress work together just about as well as you and I do.” Though he does look damn good in them. That is an ass I’d like to sink my teeth in, for sure. “Should I change? Should you? Assuming we’re still doing this thing…”
“We’re doing it. And honestly? I’m not that worried about us having a solid story. My family probably won’t talk to you much anyway. They’re not exactly interested in me being in a relationship.”
“Then why am I even here?” I pop a hand on my hip as a couple rounds the corner, drawing up short when they see us. I don’t know if it’s the clash in our attire or the tension thrumming between us that puts them off more.
Nathan takes my arm and leads me to his car, leaning close. Secretive. Intimate.
