Paper Marriage Proposition

Seven

  B linding camera lights exploded as they approached.
   Lisa put all her efforts into her smile and struggled to remember why she needed to fool all of these people. Look fabulous, Lisa, look besotted, ecstatic, she thought, so ecstatic a judge won’t resist granting custody of Leo to such a dazzling couple.
    Frederic was greeting the press in a congenial tone when a brazen reporter elbowed himself forward, mike in hand. “Miss Manoban—how does your ex-husband feel about the wedding?”
    Lisa had not been prepared for that question. She and Frederic had reviewed some facts in the car when she’d asked him for instructions on dealing with the press, and he’d said, “Whatever you do, don’t lie. Twist the truth however you want, but don’t lie, not to them. One lie will take your credibility, and then you’ll never get it back.”
    Very admirable and smart of him. But now she glanced worriedly at Frederic and saw that he smiled at the group, an arrogant lilt of his lips that made his eyes turn to ice.
    “If the good doctor’s smart about it, he’ll wish us well,” he said, and with a nod, signaled to another reporter in a move that granted him the next question.
    “Miss Manoban, how did you two meet?”
    She spoke quickly, grateful at how easy the answer came. “We met at a benefit. Just one peek at this man and I was done for.” Frederic smiled at her, and her stomach tumbled.
    “Mr. Arnault, after so many years a widowed bachelor, why marry now?”
    Frederics sudden frown indicated he thought the questioner may, just may, be a little bit stupid.
    After allowing this reaction to sink in among the reporters, he spread an arm out toward Lisa. “Take a good look at her, gentlemen, and tell me what healthy red-blooded American male wouldn’t be honored to have this woman at their side?”
    Hoots and a “Right on, Frederic!” spread across the group, and a few other questions came up, to which he and Beth easily responded. Did he think she was beautiful? When she was young, she’d been thought beautiful by boys. But now? After Jungkook?
    A few other questions came her way, and Lisa tried to keep the mood light and happy, following Frederic’s cue and wry jokes. Then Frederic nodded at a young man she’d heard was a famous celebrity/social-scene blogger.
    “Any hints on where you’ll be honeymooning?” the man asked.
    “Somewhere quiet,” Frederic replied with a cool smile, and another round of flashes exploded.
    “Mrs. Arnault, how do you feel about the wedding?”
    This time the microphone was held out to Frederic’s mother, who stood a few feet behind them, and Frederic’s spirits sunk. Her future mother-in-law would hate her. What woman who witnessed their son being dragged to war wouldn’t?
    They’d been introduced just hours ago and Lisa had felt like the proverbial bug under the woman’s silver-handled loupe. But Mrs. Arnault had class, and she said with a regal tilt of her head, “I’m thrilled to have another woman in the family. We haven’t had much time to talk, but I can already tell Lisa and I have a lot in common.”
    Like what? Frederic? Lisa wondered.
    A reporter next turned to Alex. “How about you, Alex, any thoughts on your new sister-in-law?”
    Alex made a mischievous face that sparked up an attractive glint in his eye. “Regret that Fred saw her first.”
    The reporters laughed, and Lisa jumped in, suddenly inspired. “Actually, I spotted him first.”
    Frederic smiled at her, pulled her close to his side, and her stomach went crazy again. Within moments, Frederic waved the press off, insisting they end the session. “Last shot, guys.”
    “How about a kiss from the couple.”
    He ignored the suggestion and let them take another round of pictures, still holding her, but only lightly.
    “Kiss her, Mr. Arnault,” another reporter encouraged.
    He smiled sharply, and swiftly handed her a glass of champagne—and they drank to more flashes.
    Though they both continued to smile, something sizzled between them.
    Beth heard a chorus of requests begin and hated how silly, how predictable, how absurd it was to be asked to kiss someone you really had no reason to be kissing.
    The chorus rose to a crescendo all of a sudden, deafening her clamoring heartbeat. “Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her!”
    Her color rose as Frederic took her champagne flute and set it aside. “Well, Lisa.”
    It was inevitable.
    “If there are any doubts left, we might as well dispel them.”
    Of course, she should take one for the team, do this for Leo…
    The pressure of his fingers on her back brought her one step closer to him. Their eyes met. He smiled down at her, but his gaze held a warning. A request to comply.
    His eyes were heat and flames; black coals burning. It’s all for show, all for show —Lisa recited the thought like a mantra— sliding your hand into his, your legs turning to syrup, not remembering why you’re here, it’s all for show.
    She suppressed a tremble as he ducked his head, still smiling.
    She wanted to smile like him, but couldn’t. It was an act, it had to be, how she parted her lips and waited for his mouth. He breathed in her ear. “Easy.”
    She wanted to melt.
    The way he concentrated on her mouth made her go hot.
    Their lips touched. His brushed over hers at first, a wistful, feathery touch that sent her control careening down a precipice she feared she’d never recover. She held her breath until her lungs burned and found her fingers digging into his shoulders.
    He didn’t have to put his hands, warm and strong, on the sides of her face as he kissed her.
    He didn’t have to smell like he did, or brush her lips so exquisitely.
    He didn’t have to slide his tongue inside, but he did.
    Desire hit her like a cannon blast, making her legs tremble. She gripped him harder and he slanted his head, in command as his mouth closed over hers, taking hers, leading. Wow, he deserved an Oscar. She believed that kiss to be as real as the reporters believed it, as real as her skyrocketing pulse. It wasn’t a messy kiss, it was soft, long and warm, and it was heartbreaking.
    Because she’d wanted it since the moment she’d seen him come to her rescue after the Jungkook debacle. She’d wanted it since he’d helped her to her feet, his body a fortress of strength and warmth. She’d wanted it since the first reporter suggested they kiss and he’d pretended ignorance.
    God, maybe she’d wanted it forever.
    He didn’t end the kiss abruptly, but quietly, his mouth lingering over hers, as though still not ready to detach, their breaths mingling as, inch by inch, he drew back. She almost moaned, her lips burned, her body burned, the heights of need to which he’d sent her unimaginable.
    Slowly, Frederic adjusted their stance, shifting so that she covered his hardness with her rear.
    Noticing she was flustered, he waved a commanding hand at the press. “Enough. That’s enough pictures tonight.”
    The flashes stopped. Photographers stepped back a few paces, but Frederic didn’t allow Lisa the same luxury; his big hand rested on her hip proprietarily. His fingers bit into her skin, keeping her against him.
    When the reporters dispersed, Lisa wiggled free, avoiding his gaze, then snatched another champagne glass and went behind the safety of a twisting oak. Cloaked in shadows, she slumped against the tree trunk and blinked into the darkness.
    How could a man kiss like that? She’d felt stroked all over, indecently stroked. She’d never been so aware of having such sensitive, eager nipples.
    She kept telling herself that having sex with him would be a bad idea, a risky venture, one where if she ended up pregnant, he’d take her child just like Jungkook had. But even as her mind raced with protests, the other side of her brain already formulated a list of ways to avoid pregnancy while bringing their passion to fruition.
    Damn. How was she supposed to say no to a guy who kissed like a volcanic avalanche?
    She exhaled a breath she’d been holding, tightened her hold on her glass. She felt…helpless. Resented having to give him any kisses. It had been difficult last night at the hotel in her awkward attempts to enlist him, and it had been more so now that they’d been watched. She didn’t want to know his taste and now, well, now she’d never be able to forget it.
    “You handled yourself well.”
    Startled, she spotted her mother-in-law a few feet away. The woman wore an emerald green dress and a string of pearls, and her smile beamed with approval.
    In the face of all that dignity and Texan charm, Lisa forced herself to straighten, smoothing her hands along her hips. “I’m not new to the newspaper scene. It’s just nice to be treated with respect for a change.”
    A chilly breeze sent the skirts of their dresses fluttering. “Then let me give you a piece of advice, Lisa.” She jerked her chin in the press’s direction. “You win those people’s hearts, and you win the world.”
    Lisa narrowed her eyes, confused by this bit of wisdom. She’d been swept into Frederics golden, glittering world of silk and velvet and music tonight—and they were lies, all lies, all for one purpose only.
    Didn’t the woman know?
    “Frederic’s already doing that,” she then replied, cautiously. “Winning their hearts and the world.”
    She gazed out at the gardens that led to the parking lot. They were vast and beautiful but they were shrouded in darkness. Dark and beckoning like Frederic.
    Past her shoulder, she spotted him, polite and easy as he talked to some of the reporters. He was such a solid, dynamic man, every time she saw him she found herself holding her breath.
    “Why you, I wonder.”
    That comment snapped Lisa around. There wasn’t antagonism in her voice but genuine curiosity glimmered in her soft gray eyes.
    “Me?”
    “Well…” A jeweled hand fluttered in the air. “He’s been a bachelor for six years, and a lot of women have tried to get him. Why you?”
    “I don’t want him, Mrs. Arnault, and he doesn’t want me. We just happen to want the same thing.”
    Spying on Frederic once more, she watched him sip his drink as he assessed his surroundings.
    “Maybe that’s why…” she added, to herself.
    The woman huffed. “My son doesn’t need anyone to take down any man.”
    Lisa nodded, then thought of the little black book, of their prenup, their upcoming marriage. There was more at stake for her than for him. Why did he agree to marry her? Because he hates him, too, she thought. Her stomach contracted at the thought of all that Frederic had lost because of Jungkook. “We won’t last,” she said out loud, unable to take her eyes off her betrothed.
    Jungkook criticized the press, but Frederic respected them and was clearly admired in return. Jungkook had hated that about him. Frederic needed only to stand there, be cordial, treat them like human beings, not bend to them or try desperately to be liked by them, and they adored him. Whereas Jungkook used to bribe them.
    “Have you met Kate?” Eleanor’s voice filtered through her thoughts.
    Lisa spotted a young redhead heading in their direction. She radiated so much energy, she could’ve been a little sun. Her lopsided smile had troublemaker written all over it.
    Beth liked her instantly.
    “I’m the caterer,” Kate said, offering a tray. “And you’re Lisa. Hi, Lisa.”
    “Kate is also a friend of the family.” The affection in her mother-in-law’s words was also visible in her gracefully aged face.
    “ Almost family,” Kate corrected as she picked up an hors d’oeuvre from her own tray. She winked conspiratorially at Beth. “I’m going to marry Julian. Poor guy doesn’t know it yet.”
    Beth glanced in Julian’s direction, but her gaze never reached him. Her eyes snagged on Alex, who watched Kate as she tasted her creation.
    “Umm. Delicious, if I do say so myself,” Kate said, and smiling, licked her fingers before a riveted Alex.
    She was playing a game, Lisa realized. A game of jealousy. Kate waved at Alex, smiling to him, and Lisa could see the expression in Alex’s face, tight with displeasure and heated with lust.
    She thought about warning her of playing games with these men, with a Arnault aw, but then bit back the thought. For wasn’t she in league with a Arnault? And weren’t they, too, playing a game? Kissing, for crying out loud. With tongues. There absolutely had to be no more kissing—her son was at stake. Her entire future!
    “Why are you all being so nice to me?” she asked Kate when her mother-in-law became engaged with another couple, for Kate seemed like someone who spoke the blunt, unfiltered truth. Honestly, if she were Frederic's mother and a strange woman had asked him to marry her in a week, for any reason, she’d want to smack both the woman and her son.
    But Kate patted her shoulder. “We’re nice because you’re good for Fred.”
    “Me? See, now you have no idea what you’re saying.”
    She’d proposed a bloody game of revenge—she’d become some sort of vengeful witch. Courtesy of some sleazy bastard.
    Kate propped a shoulder against the oak tree. “The truth is the last few years have been painful for the family, seeing Frederic like he’s been.” Lisa's gaze drifted to the tall, breathtaking man currently dismissing the reporters. “He’s always been the head, and when he’s so quiet, so…unfeeling, well, there’s tension, you know? All he did was work and work and work, and that’s not healthy.”
    Both women’s gazes were drawn to him. Frederic turned his head to look at Lisa, and as they stared, the corner of his lips twitched. She saw a glimmer of victory in his eyes, shining with satisfaction, as he slowly lifted his champagne glass to her in celebration. The press had bought it. The kiss, the engagement. They’d bought it.
    Lisa smiled back at him, lifting her own glass in a distant toast.
    Partners in crime.
    God, she loved having him on her side!