Fake it for Keeps (Faux Love #13)

Chapter 1

COLT

“You’re a mess.” My sister popped open her small handbag and rifled through it.

“I’m fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You fuss too much.”

Her annoyed frown made her look every bit the right-hand woman our late father had groomed her to be.

She found what she was searching for in her purse and held it out to me.

“We’re supposed to be presenting you as reformed, Colt.

Polished. A man who’s finally taking the reins of Valenteen seriously. ”

I took the shiny flat disc from her. “What am I supposed to do with this? Does it need an app or something?”

“It’s a mirror,” she said flatly. “Fix your face.”

I flipped the mirror open and found my reflection. A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth when I saw the perfect imprint of a pair of lips in red lipstick on my cheek.

I wiped the stain away with the back of my hand. “Better?”

Frankie’s brows drew together. “I wish you’d take this more seriously, Colt.”

“I am taking it seriously.” I smoothed my hair back, checking my reflection in her little pocket mirror one last time.

Still a little disheveled. I’d been in a rush when Chelsea texted that she was in town for the night, and she was not a woman you ignored or rejected.

“A friend called and let me know she was in town. I’m warming up for the main event. ”

I smoothed my collar and wet my thumb with my tongue to wipe away the lingering pink smudge on my cheek.

Frankie’s eyes narrowed but she caught the mirror when I tossed it back to her. “Warming up? Is that what we’re calling your revolving door of hookups now?”

“Revolving door sounds so impersonal.” I adjusted my bow tie, which had somehow gotten crooked during my pit stop at Chelsea’s hotel.

I thought I had more time before we had to pick up Frankie.

But Chelsea had other plans. “I prefer to think of it as a carefully curated roster of talented individuals.”

“You’re a hoe.”

I laughed. “And you’re a prude.”

She pushed back against her seat and crossed her arms before showing me her profile and gazing studiously out the window at surrounding traffic. “You smell like Chanel and bad decisions.”

“That’s my signature scent.”

She shot me a glare out of the corner of her eye. I winked at her, but her expression didn’t soften. If anything, she looked more irritated. Poor girl.

Her intentions were always good, but she was delusional if she thought her advice and scolding sessions were going to change a damn thing about how I operated. In business? Hell yeah, I’d take Frankie’s advice. But letting her speak about who I let into my bed?

No way. If I didn’t adore her so much I’d tell her to stay in her own lane. But I did adore her, and poking fun at her and making her squirm was a lot more fun than hurting her feelings.

“The ladies always compliment how I smell.” I leaned back in my seat, too, and studied my sister as her composure began to crack. She finally looked at me and I pumped my eyebrows.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” she muttered. “And get yourself tested one of these days.”

The limo slowed as we approached the venue.

I could already see the flash of cameras through the tinted windows.

My stomach tightened, not with nerves but with the familiar weight of expectation.

It had been a year since I inherited Dad’s empire, and every public appearance felt like walking a tightrope.

One misstep, and the press would eat me alive.

My reputation was well known. I didn’t care. I never tried to hide it. But it did make for some damn good gossip and that often led to more whispers than I cared for.

And Frankie hated the gossip.

It pissed her off and made her mad at me.

“Smile, Colt,” Frankie hissed as the car rolled to a stop. “For once in your life, just look like you give a damn about love.”

I smirked, glancing at the paparazzi lined up like vultures waiting for dinner. “I’m here, aren’t I? That’s as close to love as they’re gonna get.”

“That’s the problem.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. “Your reputation can’t survive another night of you leaving with a different woman. Do you understand me? This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about Valenteen. About Dad’s legacy.”

The mention of our father made my chest tighten, but I pushed the feeling down where it belonged, buried deep with all the other shit I didn’t have time to deal with. “Relax, Frankie. I’ve got this.”

“Do you?”

Before I could answer, the driver opened the door, and the roar of the paparazzi hit me like a wave. “My adoring public awaits.”

Cameras flashed in rapid succession, voices shouting my name, questions flying faster than I could process them. I stepped out of the limo, straightening my jacket and plastering on the cocky grin that had become my armor.

“Colt! Over here!”

“Mr. Jesson, who’s your date tonight?”

“Is the relationship with Karina serious?”

Karina? Did I go out with her? She was a supermodel. One name only. She did the Victoria’s Secret show and yeah, we hooked up, but how in the hell did they jump from that to relationship?

Fucking hell.

I ignored them all, offering a casual wave as Frankie emerged behind me. She looked lovely in a sleek black gown, her dark hair swept up in an elegant twist. If I had to be here, at least I had my sister by my side. She was the only person in the world I actually gave a damn about.

Or trusted.

We started up the red carpet, the cameras following our every move.

I was halfway to the entrance when I heard a collective gasp from the crowd, and I turned just in time to see her.

A goddess made of curves and soft edges, poured into a gown that hugged every inch of her body in ways that had my priorities for the evening turning into white noise in the back of my head.

Long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face that was equal parts beautiful and mysterious.

Rosy cheeks, full lips glistening with gloss, dark lashes, and dewy skin.

Her eyes widened as she tripped on the hem of her dress. A little gasp passed between her lips that I shouldn’t have been able to hear amidst the crowd and chatter, but I did. As she lost her footing and reached for something to brace her fall, I sprang into action.

Just as she toppled, I reached her and caught her around the waist. My hands steadied her, letting my touch wander to the small of her back. The fabric of her dress continued to dance around her as she gripped the front of my suit jacket and blinked up at me, eyes wide and bright.

“Easy there,” I murmured, keeping my grip firm but not too tight. “Wouldn’t want you to break something before the night even starts.”

Her dark eyes shifted back and forth between mine.

Assessing. There was something familiar about her, though I couldn’t place it.

Maybe I’d seen her at one of these events before.

Or maybe she just had one of those faces that looked like someone else.

It seemed as though she recognized me, too.

Either that or she was admiring the view.

They often did. And I always let them.

I flashed her a smile and eased my grip just a little. I wasn’t quite ready to relinquish her yet. “Are you good?”

She gave me a curt nod and let me go.

All the background noise suddenly escalated around us the minute she put space between us. The paparazzi were going absolutely feral.

“Colt Jesson’s mystery date!”

“Who is she?”

“Is Colt finally settling down?”

They were fucking morons. I wasn’t automatically fucking or dating any woman I grabbed around the waist. Not all of them.

The gorgeous woman stiffened in my arms. I leaned in close, my lips brushing against her ear. “Play along,” I whispered. “I’ll make this the best night of your life. What do you say?”

She met my gaze and she nodded, excitement shining in her eyes. Warmth filled me. I liked a woman with a sense of adventure. I turned us toward the cameras, one hand still on her waist as I guided her up the stairs.

The flashes were relentless, but I was used to it. I knew how to work a crowd, how to give them exactly what they wanted while keeping my own cards close to the chest.

“Smile, sweetheart,” I said under my breath, pulling her in closer. “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

I kissed her cheek and felt her entire body go rigid. The reaction sent a thrill through me. She was so easy to read, so quick to respond. I loved it. She was putting on a show. Did she realize she was doing it? Or was she really that responsive?

Interesting.

“If I didn’t know better,” I whispered against her ear, “I’d think you wore that dress just for me.”

Her breath hitched, and I had to bite back a grin. Yeah, this was going to be fun. She wasn’t my typical date, but I liked her already. For a random hottie I picked up off the street, she seemed like she knew how to have a good time.

I liked watching her cheeks flush. Those cute little intakes of breath had me thinking about what it would sound like when I was buried balls deep inside her. Fuck me. I was getting ahead of myself.

We made it to the top of the stairs.

“Smile,” I said close to her ear again.

We turned to face the cameras with my arm around her waist and holding her close against me. She said nothing. I had no idea if she was smiling or not, but the paparazzi were eating it up. A million flashes lit up the night.

I waved once, indicating we were done with the pictures, and turned around to lead her inside with my hand in the small of her back. She kept pace with me and still said nothing as ushers gestured us down the hall and into the ballroom.

The venue was exactly what I’d expected, opulent, over the top, dripping with wealth.

Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling highlighting the sea of tuxedos and gowns.

A string quartet played in the corner. Waiters moved through the crowd carrying trays filled with champagne flutes balanced on their hands.

Frankie appeared at my side almost immediately, her expression thunderous. “What the hell was that?” She hissed the words, her frustration evident. “And who the hell is that, while we’re at it?”

“That,” I said, steering my mystery woman toward the nearest group of investors, “was damage control.”

“Damage control?” Frankie hissed. “You just grabbed a random woman off the red carpet!” She leaned forward to address my beautiful companion. “No offense.”

My damsel’s eyebrows lifted, and her lips parted, but she still held her tongue. Curious. Normally, women had a whole lot to say when they were lucky enough to find themselves the subject of my attention.

“She tripped. I caught her. The cameras loved it.” I shrugged, flashing my sister a grin. “You’re welcome.”

Before she could tell me all the reasons I was wrong, I was already moving, pulling my new arm candy deeper into the crowd with me.

My father’s old friends were scattered throughout the room, their eyes tracking my every move.

I hated how much they scrutinized me. I knew all about how they whispered behind their champagne flutes about whether I was fit to run Valenteen.

“Colt!” Gerald Morrison, a silver-haired investor who’d known my father for decades, stepped forward with a wide smile. “Good to see you, son. And who’s this lovely creature?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but my mystery woman beat me to it.

“Hallie,” she said smoothly, extending her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Morrison.”

Her voice was warm, confident, and just a little bit sultry. A delightful surprise after all that silence. She played the part beautifully, charming Gerald with ease as she asked him about his work and listened intently to his answers.

Damn.

She had curves on her like an old pin-up model. A dark-haired Marilyn Monroe. Everyone in the room was going to be eating out of the palm of her hand. Including me at this rate. Perhaps on my knees. Perhaps without pants on.

That thought corrupted my focus. I needed to get her away from all these people so I could have her to myself and try to solve the riddle of who she was and why she was here. So I led her to the dance floor.

“You’re full of surprises,” I said, pulling her into my arms as the music shifted to something slow and romantic. “Where’d you learn to schmooze like that?”

She looked up at me, her dark eyes unreadable. “You’d be surprised what you pick up when you pay attention.”

Her body fit against mine perfectly, her curves pressing into me in all the right places. I let my hand drift lower on her back, testing her boundaries. She didn’t pull away, but I could feel the tension in her shoulders.

“You’re quiet,” I observed, leading her in a slow circle. “Most women can’t stop talking when they’re around me.”

She didn’t respond, just kept watching me with those mysterious eyes of hers. It was maddening. I was used to women falling all over themselves to get my attention, throwing themselves at me without a second thought. But Hallie? She was keeping me at arm’s length, and it only made me want her more.

What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? I wondered. What do you want? Better yet, what do you need?

Over her shoulder, I caught sight of Frankie shaking her head at me from across the room. I smirked, spinning Hallie in a lazy circle. My sister could scowl all she wanted. I’d sneak out when her back was turned, just like I always did.