Do you think my family worships at the altar of the almighty dollar?"
"Not…on purpose," she said with a smile. The challenging glint in his eye told her he knew she was teasing him.
Between them, heat flared. It was the same spark she'd felt each time she was around him. Given her spiking pulse and heated neck, she'd assumed it was rage. Now she was questioning whether the attraction was real. Sure, she was being purposefully receptive to him, but there was something else going on.
Who knew the first time she felt that long-gone spark it would be with a man she shouldn't even like? He was impossible not to admire…which was upsetting.
Palpable heat snapped the air between them as he leaned closer.
"Parents are out of the way," Reese said. "What do you want to share next? Schooling? Favorite color? Hobbies?"
"That's pretty dry." She took a drink of her cosmo and savored the sweet, tart flavor before swallowing. The soft green, blue, and pink lighting pulsed with the beat of the song the DJ, hovering from the ceiling, was currently spinning.
They sat in silence while she thought. Dating wasn't something she did often. She was too busy. Busy at the hotel, busy helping her parents, busy being busy with nothing at all. If she stopped for a single second, worry crept in. Worry that she was wasting her life working like a hamster in a wheel, which was why she often didn't stop long enough to think about it.
Dangerous, those thoughts.
There was a very big discussion she and Reese needed to have. And what better place to have it than here, buried under a heavy bass beat?
"What about the emotional hurtles we have to leap?" she asked. "You're a good two feet away from me."
"Maybe I'm shy," he said after gauging the distance on the couch between them. "Or maybe"—he moved closer, lifting his body and bringing it within a foot of hers—"I'm worried I'll frighten you away."
His dark blue eyes sparkled in the club's lighting. She felt something when he scooted closer, but frightened wasn't her dominant emotion.
Intrigued. Interested. Fascinated. There were some words.
"I don't spook easily." Her voice dipped.
"No?" He came closer, so close his jeans brushed her bare knee. He abandoned his drink on the low table in front of him and then did the same with hers, freeing the hand she now didn't know what to do with.
Sifting her hair through his fingers, he leaned closer, firm, but full lips parting as her heart thundered against her breast. Her face went hot. Her throat constricted. This close, he was as powerful as a transformer, causing a buzz she felt in every last one of her neglected erogenous zones.
An inch from her mouth, Reese bit out, "We've been made."
Not…what she expected. She blinked, surprised.
"Reporter," he said.
She started to ask where, but a flash among many flashes came from the direction of the crowd below. Then Reese did something that made her heart lift. He grinned. A natural, easy, toothy grin, paired with a flick of his eyes like he was checking her out.
With his hand, he cupped her nape. Just a light brush before he leaned close and whispered in her ear, "Showtime."
A shiver raced down her spine at the feel of his warm breath against her skin.
"First kiss. Don't screw it up." He pressed his lips to her jaw and for a scant moment she forgot about the reporter snapping away down there. She was too overtaken by the rough scrape of his facial hair on her softer skin, the smell of him enveloping her.
She shut her eyes. This time the flashes of light came from behind her eyelids when his mouth closed over hers. It wasn't hard to lean into him. Her hand grabbed hold of his suit jacket before she realized. And when he slanted his mouth and just the tip of his tongue touched to her bottom lip, she whimpered.
He pulled back too soon. His eyes were heated, his hand moving from her neck and brushing her bared shoulder.
Okay. Kissing Reese Crane was not going to be a hardship.
"Not bad," he said, his easygoing smile likely for the paparazzi below.
A pang of disappointment tingled in her breastbone. She shouldn't care that he was acting. This wasn't real. She didn't want it to be real.
His fingers continued playing in her hair. He was still close. "We'll discuss timing on the engagement announcement at dinner tonight."
"Dinner?" She blinked.
"And dessert."
"Dessert?" She'd turned into a parrot, squawking his every utterance back at him.
"Though I'm tempted to have my dessert now." He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers for a quick kiss. Stubble abraded her chin. She reached up and stroked his face, unsure now if the flashing was the club lighting or if this moment would also show up on the Internet tomorrow morning.
"Okay," she whispered, then ran a fingernail down his jawline. "Dinner and dessert."
* * *
Reese felt as if he was vibrating when she scraped his jaw, then his lower lip with her finger. Every inch of him—including the several aching ones in his pants—wanted to take her by the back of the head and kiss her until they were both panting. The need was so visceral, so…animal, he sat back some. The idea behind the kiss was to give the reporter some fodder. Penelope may have asked they do a little PDA, not maul Merina in full view of downtown Chicago.
He pulled her hair back into place, all those silken, honey-colored strands falling softly against her shoulders. Everything about her was soft and warm and inviting, except for when she spoke. Then she was barbed and feisty. Both sides did it for him, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Though, this relationship came with a safety net. They could fight all they wanted, and she couldn't go anywhere until the deed was done.
So to speak.
He wasn't sure how they'd survive a six-month marriage without further exploring the heat that had flared between them. As first kisses went, that one was the most memorable. Hell, he couldn't recall a single kiss in the past that made him as interested in more. With Merina, "more" wasn't guaranteed. Even though a wedding was.
He turned his head to see if the reporter was gone. She wasn't, but she was no longer aiming her camera at them. She was scrolling through her phone, a smile on her face. He went out with her once, years and years ago. Couldn't remember her name now, but she didn't appear the least bit heartbroken. She looked like she was mentally counting the extra zeroes in her paycheck after she sold those photos.