Perfect Husband: A Fake Marriage Romance Read online

  A large cockroach scuttled across the wall behind my desk. My knee jerk reaction kicked in, which unleashed a bloodcurdling scream and I slammed my old college textbook over it on the wall. Lifting the book away, I curled my lips up at the mess of smashed bug guts on the graying paint, then jumped when my neighbor beat on the other side of the wall, pissed about the noise.

  I sighed and flopped back into my chair. That did it. I’d had enough of struggling, of uncertainty and creatures crawling through my space.

  I was going to accept Denton North’s insane proposal. Right now, I would do anything to get away from this dingy, bug-riddled apartment.

  I picked up my phone and before I could change my mind, sent him a text.

  I accept your proposal.

  Four

  When I entered Denton’s penthouse the next morning, he greeted me with a hug.

  To keep with the klutzy Tiffany theme, my heel got caught on the rug, causing me to lose my balance, and I ended up with my tits plastered against his chest. His chest was hard as bricks, just like the arms that went around me to help me get my balance. The same sensations I’d had at the café pinged just under my skin and when I stepped back I was sure my face was the color of a second-degree sunburn.

  “You won’t regret this, Tiffany.” With his hand on my arm, he led me to the living room. “Before you know it, six months will have flown by, you’ll have a million dollars in your bank account, and your life will return to normal. I promise.”

  I laughed nervously, feeling like the lamb being led to the proverbial slaughter. “You know, I don’t remember mentioning my name to you, ever. Did I tell you at the nightclub when I was drunkenly begging you to spank me?”

  “You did a lot more than just tell me your name.” His green eyes sparkled at the memory. “Let’s see, you wanted to see my penthouse, so I brought you here. We kissed a lot. You showed me that cute little butterfly tattoo you have.” At this, I gasped. My butterfly tattoo was on my lower hip. I must have done the things he said if he knew about that. Unless he went snooping while I was asleep, but he didn’t strike me as a perv at all. “Then you wanted to give me a blowjob, but you ended up falling asleep with your face planted right in my crotch—”

  “Okay, that’s enough.” I held out my hand, palm up, my cheeks flaming. “There’s going to have to be some rules if this is going to work. Rule number one—Never mention that night again. And rule number two—You and I will sleep in separate bedrooms. Always.”

  Denton’s forehead creased at the second rule, but he stood in thought for a moment. “Agreed. However, if I have friends or family stay the night, or a surprise visit, you have to sleep in my room. This has to look like a real marriage. That’s nonnegotiable.”

  “Um, okay. That sounds fair.” Hopefully I could minimize any overnight stays in his bedroom. If he caused sparks to fly in the daylight, I couldn’t imagine sleeping in the same room with him. I quickly changed the subject to one I’d be more comfortable with. “Can I see the contract I’m supposed to sign?”

  He released my arm to retrieve the papers from his study, but the imprint of his hand remained as if he’d parted with his actual arm. I collapsed on the couch and looked around at the penthouse with appreciation. The living room alone was bigger than my apartment. It was spotless—so spotless bugs probably hated the place. Six months of this? I could definitely get used to it.

  After I read and signed the contract, Denton showed me the guest bedroom where I’d be staying. Then he handed over a credit card.

  “What’s this for?” I held it up to the light and the silver numbers on the American Express Black card blinded me with daggers of reflected light. The contract I could handle, the penthouse I could handle. His AMEX Black? I wondered if I’d just sold my soul to the Devil for a trip to Macy’s.

  I handed it back to him.

  “You’ll have to look the part.” He held the card in the air between us. “As my wife, people will be judging how you look. You’ll need new clothes, shoes, and accessories.”

  “But what about my own stuff? Everything’s being delivered here this afternoon.”

  “You can wear what you want inside the penthouse. Now, we need to discuss a family lunch for the coming weekend. I’ll introduce you to my family and announce our engagement.”

  I nodded because my throat had gone dry, my head spinning. This was really happening. I was about to fake-marry this beautiful man and come out of it with one million bucks.

  “Well, that’s it.” Denton clapped his hands together and smiled widely. “Any questions?”

  “Why are you doing this?” The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I mean, you told me your family wants you to get married, but this whole fake marriage thing seems like such an extreme response. Is it really necessary to go through all this?”

  His expression grew serious. “I have two reasons for doing this. The most pressing one is that my grandfather is currently unwell. Doctors think he only has a few months left, so the urgency comes from that. Second, my parents want me to marry a childhood friend of mine, but I have no desire to marry her. She’s…” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Let’s just say she’s quite a handful.”

  “So the divorce will happen after your grandfather has… passed away?” I felt awful saying the words, but I needed details.

  Denton nodded. “I want to give him some happiness during his last few months.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. He deserved the golden grandson award, that was for sure.

  “Anything else?” he asked. “Speak now, or hold your peace for the next six months.”

  “There’s one more condition I’d like to add to my contract.” I was surprised by the strength of my voice. His close proximity was making my body temperature slowly creep up to near fever level.

  “What is it?”

  “Your ex-girlfriend, Laura Harrington. I want you to pay for her partner’s medical bills during the six months I’m here.” I hadn’t been able to get the woman out of my mind, had silently rooted for her from the time I read the portfolio. Since I was in her shoes now, it was the least I could do, but I wasn’t really expecting him to agree.

  Denton raised his brows, his eyes searching mine. “That one’s easy. Done.”

  Done. We were really doing this. Denton North was going to be my husband.

  Fake husband, Tiffany. And don’t you forget it!

  I decided to celebrate my engagement by chatting with Rach, while Denton was in his study catching up on work. We were already like a loveless couple who’d been married for two decades.

  “Your mom is going to freak out when she hears this,” Rach breathed through the phone.

  I popped my knuckles. “She’s not going to hear about it, unless you tell.”

  “What do you mean she’s not going to hear about it? North’s face is regularly plastered all over the Internet. You going to hide in the house for the next six months?”

  “No. When I decided to do this I wasn’t thinking about my mother. I was too busy chasing and murdering cockroaches in my scary apartment.”

  “Tiff, you know you’ll agree to anything to get away from a bug. Did you look over that contract good?”

  “Yes. I promise, it’ll be fine. Six months and my life will return to normal.” Or so Blondie had said, and I was choosing to believe him, mostly. “Better than normal. Normal with no cockroaches.”

  “What did your landlord say when you told him you were moving out?”

  “He was sad, of course. I was the only one there who paid rent on time.”

  “Does this mean no more slumber parties for us?”

  “On the contrary. It means we’re going to have slumber parties in style. And instead of roaches, it’ll be Denton walking around with his awesome abs.”

  Rach made an approving noise. “I like it. And since he’s going to be a fake husband and all, I get to ogle him, right?”

  “Of course.”
But my stomach did a queasy flop at the thought of any woman looking at him that way. He was mine, even if our arrangement was fake and only for six months.

  “Tiffany.” Rachael’s voice held the cautionary tone that I knew all too well. She’d just spotted a flaw in the plan that could prove fatal. “Don’t fall in love with him and come out of this heartbroken as well.”

  I sputtered. “I’m not going to fall in—"

  Just then, there was a knock on my bedroom door. “Tiffany, are you hungry? Do you want to order in?”

  “Denton wants to have dinner,” I said to Rach, happy to end the conversation that would eventually lead to Rachael prying the way the atmosphere sparked when Denton walked into a room out of me. “I’ll call you again later.”

  “If something happens between you two, I want to hear every detail.”

  “Rach!” I stage-whispered, “I’m not going to do anything with him.”

  Her laugh came over the line before the call disconnected.

  “How about sushi?” One of Denton’s eyebrows cocked up when I stepped into the hall wearing my pajamas. They were my favorites, silky and blue with penguins all over them.

  I wrinkled my nose. “The only time I’ve handled raw fish was putting it on a hook to catch a bigger fish. What about Chinese?”

  Denton closed his eyes and shook his head, but a mirthful smile was on his lips. “Chinese it is. Wouldn’t want you to have any raw fish flashbacks.”

  He ordered all my favorite dishes—Kung Pao chicken, fried rice, steamed dumplings, and shrimp with lobster sauce.

  When the food came, we sat at the island counter facing each other. Denton had changed into his pajamas—or half of them—and was bare-chested, wearing only the pants. I tried not to stare at his naked, sculpted chest. Ordered my eyes not to follow the dark blond trail of hair that led to his waistband and beyond. My god, the man was stunning.

  “We need to make up a story about how we met,” he said, reaching for the shrimp.

  “Why? Just tell the truth. We met at a nightclub, and it was love at first sight. For you, of course. As for me, I wasn’t impressed. In fact, it took a lot of convincing for me to finally agree to go on a date with you.”

  Denton rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Fine. Where did we go on our first date?”

  “The Empire State Building, because you remembered me telling you that my favorite movie is Sleepless in Seattle.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but I thought Denton let out a small groan.

  “And that’s where you proposed as well,” I pressed on stubbornly, snagging some shrimp before he ate it all. “On bended knee, you promised to give me the world.”

  “Hokey, but it could work. Speaking of proposals, I’d better get you a ring.” He studied my bare hand. “I can’t have my fiancée walking around with bare fingers. Is there a particular design you prefer?”

  “Just a diamond ring,” I said, suddenly feeling shy. “Nothing too fancy.”

  “I’ll have my secretary schedule you a manicure.”

  “A manicure?” I inspected my nails. I guessed the cuticles were a little shabby, but I was a working girl, not a debutante.

  “The papparazi will be out to get a good shot of the ring. Your hands need to look like you’ve never worked a day in your life.”

  “Hmph.” Was he embarrassed of me? Was he slumming by becoming engaged to me? It didn’t really matter, and if it turned out to be true, the butterflies that were playing ping pong with the shrimp in my stomach would flitter away, and good riddance.

  After dinner, I went back to my room to take a shower. The shower stall was exorborant, big enough to fit three people. Or at least myself and Denton, with plenty of room for kinky shower sex. I wondered how many times he’d had shower sex with one of his conquests.

  Probably every morning and night. I poured shampoo into my open palm. But now that I’m here, zilch for the next six months.

  This was another problem we hadn’t discussed. Were we supposed to remain celibate for half a year?

  Even though Andy hated giving oral, we’d had plenty of satisfactory sex while dating. I really didn’t want to go without it for six whole months. And I was pretty damn sure that Denton would feel the same way.

  After spending the next fifteen minutes vigorously scrubbing my hair and body, and trying not to indulge in a fantasy of Denton taking me against the cold tile of the shower wall, I wrapped a white fluffy towel around my torso and stepped into the bedroom.

  And screamed when I bumped right into Denton. “What are you—” My stupid, loosely tied towel dropped to the floor and I gasped and froze, suddenly unable to move under the intense green gaze that dropped instantly to my breasts and lingered before moving south to girlland. “Oh my god!”

  “Oh my god is right.” Denton crouched to pick up my towel, only this was a very bad, bad thing, because he was now eye level with my pussy.

  His eyes went all soft and dazed-looking. “You’re completely bare,” he murmured, forgetting the towel, and placed his hands on my hips. “Pretty.”

  My body reacted, my nipples hardening above him. I was getting turned on. Fuck, any second, he was going to glance up and see. I had to do something before what Rach predicted became reality.

  “Can I have the towel, Denton?” My voice trembled slightly. I was breathless from the tingles his attention on my sex was causing there. “Please?”

  He must have heard the smallness of my voice and thought it had come from embarrassment. Guilt flashed across his face as he hurried to do as asked. Quickly covering my body with the towel, he led me to the bed and sat down with me.

  “Sorry about that,” he said roughly, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. “I’ll try to behave myself better.”

  “Did you want to see me about something?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. I came in to ask about your parents. When I realized you were in the shower, I was about to leave when you flung open the door and… bumped into me.” He gave me a rueful smile that didn’t quite match the approval in his eyes. “Bad timing on my part. Sorry.”

  “It’s just my mom. And no, I won’t be telling her about our fake marriage. She would never allow it if she knew.”

  “Quite understandable.” He slapped his knees and jumped up off the bed, nearly upsetting my towel again. “Well, have a good night then. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

  Our celibacy talk would have to wait for just a bit longer. Probably it wasn’t good to talk about celibacy anyway when your hooha was being ogled by a hot, blond god.

  Five

  We quickly fell into a comfortable routine. We ate breakfast together—

  Denton’s housekeeper made the most delicious omelets and waffles—and he headed to his office as I prepared to go to hot yoga. I started out doing regular yoga, but switched when it didn’t help with the sexual frustration that I seemed to be building up. In the evenings, we had dinner together and sometimes watched a movie. He enjoyed lots of foreign films, especially Asian action movies. Oldboy, directed by Park Chan-wook, was his favorite. Surprisingly, I enjoyed it too.

  We never spoke about the towel-dropping incident again. Not once.

  On Friday night after dinner, before he could veg in front of the TV, I decided it was time to broach the subject of celibacy, despite the nerves popping under my skin. “Denton, we never really talked about sex. Will we stay celibate during this fake marriage, or discreetly meet other people for hookups?” My fingers tightened on the edge of the granite countertop.

  His face instantly darkened. “No, we won’t meet other people for hookups. We’re not going to risk it.”

  “But I—”

  “But what? You need sexual gratification? Fuck, so do I. But that’s what hands are for.” Throwing me a glare, he dug in his pocket and slapped a velvety black box on the counter before striding into his study and slamming the door.

  My eyes refused to leave the box. I knew what it was. And I could
n’t believe it. A ring and no sex for six months! Was he insane?

  That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling past one a.m., sexually frustrated and wishing I had a vibrator. It was so unfair. With a sigh, I muttered, “Selfish jerk,” as I flopped to my other side again.

  Denton suddenly cleared his throat from the doorway. “I heard that.”

  “Good,” I retorted. “You were meant to.” My reaction to lack of sleep was that I seemed to lose the filter that made a person not say the first thing that popped into mind. And I’d had little more than a few hours of sleep since moving in here.

  “Well, aren’t you just a twit. Why didn’t you close your bedroom door?”

  “Maybe I wanted you to hear me touching myself. Hear how frustrated I am.”

  “Are you frustrated now?” He padded into the room, his tall form looming over me. The light from the hall glowed behind him, highlighting his well-built form and making him look superhuman.

  “Didn’t I just say that I was?”

  He hesitated, then crouched, bringing himself to eye level with me. “I have a new proposition for you. How about a new rule.” His voice sounded gruff, like he was struggling for control. “No kissing. No sex. Just… touching to help each other out. What do you say?”

  My breath caught in my throat. “Are you serious?”

  “Your question made me think. If we hookup with other people, we’d get caught sooner or later. Which leaves us with only one alternative.” His eyes glittered in the dark. “We help each other out in that regard.”

  “And no strings attached? Just… touching?”

  He leaned in closer. “How about a sample? If you don’t like, we’ll go back to the original agreement.”

  I opened my mouth to agree, but nothing came out because my throat had closed up, so I just nodded. My heart pounded, and I knew he’d feel my pulse racing as soon as he touched me.

  His gaze locked on mine, and he pushed my t-shirt up and bent down to my breasts. His mouth nibbled on the sensitive skin where my chest got fuller.