He heard her sigh into the phone. “I’ll still do it, Storm. But you know this is dangerous, right? I mean, deceiving your parents like that? Don’t you think they’ll see through it?”
“Not if we do it right,” he said. “If we just act like a normal couple they’ll be sold.”
“Normal?”
“Or as close to normal as we can get,” he said, trying to clarify.
“Alright. I’ll…see you in a couple of weeks then,” she said, effectively bringing the conversation to an end.
“Right. See you then.”
The phone connection went dead and she was gone.
Storm dropped the phone onto the driver's seat then turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life.
And that was the end of his evening. Not exactly the one he had envisioned but at least they were back on amicable terms.
He just hoped from here on he’d remember to keep his roaming hands off her. It was definitely not going to be easy.
The next two weeks passed far too quickly for Dani’s liking. She wasn’t ready. Not mentally, anyway. As she went down in the elevator she breathed in deeply then exhaled slowly. Calm down, she told herself, then clutched her purse strap tighter. Just because Storm's parents were super rich there was no reason to be scared. They were human beings, not aliens.
The elevator door opened and she stepped out. The pep talk she’d given herself hadn’t really worked but now she had to put on a brave face and a smile. Storm was right there in the lobby and now he was walking toward her. Her fake billionaire fiancé was painfully handsome as usual, in hip-hugging jeans and a close-fitting black shirt that clung to every cut of his muscles. Painfully handsome was the only way she could describe him because he looked so good he made her mouth water…and yet she could not touch him. And it was all because of her own stupid rules. Okay, so maybe the rules actually made sense but she just wasn’t liking them right now.
Storm was right in front of her now. He gave her a bow. “Very nice,” he said, his voice low and almost seductive. But not quite. He was probably being very careful, making sure not to cross any lines.
“Thank you,” she said with a smile and her heart soared. She’d better get a hold of herself. All the man had said were two words, two very simple ones at that, and she was over the moon.
Storm held out his hands. “After you, madam.”
She walked ahead of him and when she got to the door the sunshine was so bright she pulled up short as the glare hit her eyes.
Storm ran into her back, nearly knocking her over. His arms shot out to grab her and before she could react she’d been dragged back against his hard body.
Just as suddenly his arms dropped away, leaving her bereft. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “Just didn’t want you to topple over.”
“It’s okay,” she muttered and stepped out into the sunshine.
He didn’t have to draw back from her quite so swiftly, retreating as if she were some kind of leper. She’d wanted his arms around her, wanted the outdoorsy smell of him and the solid feel of him just a moment longer, but he’d dashed away. She was being unreasonable, she knew, but she couldn’t help her feelings. Rules or no rules, her body wanted Storm Hunter’s touch.
As they stepped out into the sunshine he pulled a pair of sunglasses from his pocket and slid them on. If she’d thought he looked sexy before, that was nothing compared to what he looked like in dark glasses. Now he looked both hot and mysterious, making her ni**les peak in futile anticipation.
Oh Lord, this was not working. They hadn’t even reached the car yet and her body was preparing for love. She almost laughed out loud. Talk about pathetic.
Storm stopped in front of a fire-red Ferrari convertible with the top down. He reached down to open the passenger door for her.
“Very nice,” she said, copying his words as she looked at the car with appreciation. “She looks like a fast one.”
“She is,” he said proudly. “Clocks zero to a hundred in four seconds.”
She slid into the seat then eyed him. “I hope you’re not planning to demonstrate.”
He laughed. “No, not this time. I’m working hard to stay in your good books.”
She could see that. He’d practically run away from her just seconds ago when their bodies touched. If that was what it meant to be in her good books then she’d throw out the darn books. Being a good girl was getting tired.
Storm went around to the driver’s side and slid into the seat then they were off, his long-fingered hands holding the steering wheel and handling the car expertly. They were out of the city traffic and onto the highway in less than half the time it would have taken her to get there.
“You drive like a racecar driver.” Dani watched in admiration as he handled the gears, revving up and shooting past so many other cars on the highway. She hadn’t even seen a stick shift car in years but she remembered when she used to drive one. She’d actually liked the feel of the clutch and the shifting of the gears.
“Used to be one,” he said casually, glancing over to give her a mischievous grin.
She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” he said and his smile was so smug she knew he was telling the truth.
“You, the first born of one of the wealthiest families in America, and your parents let you race cars? What were they thinking?”
He laughed out loud. “It’s what I love, Dani. Fast cars, fast motorcycles and-”
“Fast women?” She finished the sentence for him.
“Wrong guess,” he said with a chuckle. “I was going to say rock music. I love rock music.” He reached down and switched on the radio and the music of Hootie and the Blowfish, ‘I Only Want To Be With You’, blared through the speakers.
That put an end to any further conversation so Dani leaned back and closed her eyes, the better to enjoy the song and the feel of the breeze whipping through her hair.
At that speed, in no time they were pulling off the highway and onto a local road. The closer they got to their destination the tighter Dani gripped the side of her seat. She had no idea what to expect. Would they be snooty and mean, immediately sniffing out her ordinary working class blood? Would they quiz her on things only rich people knew? She could just picture it - a discussion on quality wines, one in which she wouldn’t even be able to participate because she didn’t have a clue.