1. Chapter One #3
In my delusions, Luca has his ear pressed against the door and is listening to every word.
I can’t let him hear what I’m about to say.
Unfortunately, Adrien mistakes my closeness for something else, and his discomfort returns.
“Listen, Simone. You’re a very attractive woman, and I think any man would be lucky to have you, but—”
“Relax, Adrien. I’m not going to have sex with you.”
“Oh, thank God.” He releases a breath and places one hand on top of his head.
It’s one of three things.
One, he’s intimidated by me.
Two, he’s celibate or abstinent.
Three, he’s gay.
But I’m not curious enough about him to ask why he’s so relieved.
“I need you to put on a very loud performance.” I gesture toward the king-size bed in the corner. “Nothing too dramatic. Just enough to make him uncomfortable.”
Adrien quirks a brow. “By him, you mean your bodyguard?”
I don’t like the suggestive look in his eyes.
“Yes. I’ll pay you.”
He laughs. “You’re really something else.”
“Is that a yes?”
He hums thoughtfully. “No. But I’ll make you a deal instead.”
I narrow my eyes. “I don’t make deals.”
“You’ll like this one. I need a date for your father’s charity gala, and I need to get my mother off my back. We pretend we’re seeing each other for a while, and both of our families ease up. Win-win.”
It isn’t the worst trade-off.
If I can convince Dad that his ridiculous plan finally worked, he might let me breathe instead of arranging another round of blind dates.
“Fine.”
Adrien nods. “Great. That’s settled.” He glances toward the bed. “Do you seriously want to put on a show?”
“Yes.”
I kick the bed frame several times, making it creak.
Adrien shakes his head. “Weak effort. That won’t convince anyone.”
“It would if you were already screaming.”
“It isn’t time yet. You go first,” he says, like he’s done this before.
I kneel beside the bed and begin pounding my fists against the mattress, forcing the frame to creak beneath my assault.
“Oh, Adrien!” I cry dramatically.
He looks as though he’s about to laugh. “Jesus, you’re terrible.”
I scoff. “I’ve never had fake sex before.”
I point at his mouth.
“And don’t you dare laugh. You have to stay in character.”
Adrien clears his throat and throws his head back. “Simone—”
I hurl a pillow at him.
He dodges it.
“Not my name, idiot. You’re supposed to make this believable.”
Adrien begins pacing around the room, crying, “Oh, baby. Give it to me. Oh, baby,” and this time I’m the one fighting laughter.
The bed continues creaking and thudding against the wall while we moan and gasp theatrically, the noise echoing throughout the suite.
It’s painfully cringeworthy.
But it’s also surprisingly fun.
And Adrien improves with every ridiculous sound he makes.
Then I get a wicked idea and sweep the lamp from the nightstand.
It crashes against the floor.
Adrien turns his face away to hide his laughter.
A sharp knock sounds against the door.
“Simone?”
The handle rattles, but the door is locked.
Adrien and I exchange delighted looks, and I gesture for him to continue.
“Harder, Adrien,” I moan, breathless from the screaming and suppressed laughter. “Yes. Right there!”
Luca’s voice carries through the door. “Are you serious?”
“Faster, Adrien. Don’t stop now.”
“I c-can’t—” Adrien gasps between silent wheezes. “You’re insane.”
“Keep going! I’m right there. Don’t stop.”
I grab another pillow and slap it against the wall for added effect.
Adrien covers his face with both hands and accidentally knocks over a chair.
Another bang fills the room.
I double down, releasing a dramatic cry as though I’ve just experienced the greatest orgasm known to humankind.
After several more ridiculous minutes, we finally stop, both of us panting from laughter and exertion.
I collapse onto my back and grin at the ceiling.
“That was the most fun I’ve had in weeks.”
Adrien wipes a tear from beneath his eye as he rights the fallen chair. “I’m adding fake-sex theater to my list of special skills.”
Maybe Adrien isn’t as prudish as I assumed.
He’s actually kind of fun.
“Wait.” I sit up. “We need to look the part.”
He musses his hair, loosens his tie, and untucks his shirt.
I tug one strap of my dress down, smudge my lipstick, and tousle my curls until I look appropriately disheveled.
“Perfect.” I inspect us both in the mirror. “Let’s go.”
I leave the suite first, fully expecting some kind of reaction from Luca.
Annoyance. Frustration. Even the faintest flicker of emotion.
Anything.
Anyone would be flustered—or at least disturbed—after listening to what just happened behind that door.
I wouldn’t expect him to find it funny. Luca and humor don’t belong in the same sentence. It’s as though he was born without the ability to smile.
But he barely spares me a glance.
He’s completely unfazed.
Completely unbothered.
His expression is a blank page, his posture exactly the same as when I left him.
The usual unaffected bodyguard.
His indifference twists something inside my stomach. Heat creeps across my cheeks as I realize every outrageous thing I just did to provoke him was wasted.
And that pisses me off even more.