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His 24-Hour Wife
Rachel Bailey
Their Vegas marriage should have ended the morning after, but this fling just might last a lifetime. Only from USA TODAY bestselling author Rachel Bailey!What happened in Vegas didn’t stay there for CEO Adam Hawke and go-getter Callie Mitchell. And their drunken lark of a wedding is coming back to haunt them. Because Adam and Callie are now working together, and she’s being blackmailed over their very personal connection by a coworker. To deflect the threat, Callie and Adam make their sham marriage look real. But the passion that ensues is no sham. Could their wedding lark have real wings after all?


“Is it okay with you if I move a little closer?”
He chuckled. “We’re supposed to be in love. I think you’re allowed to get as close as you want without asking permission.”
She stepped in and leaned her head on his shoulder. It felt good there. Felt right. As if his body remembered their intimacy. He took his hand from her waist and wrapped it around her, securing her against him, and she let out a contented sigh.
He imagined leaning down, finding her lips and losing himself in her kiss. Then taking her by the hand down the hall to her bedroom …
Except they had an audience.
And they were pretending.
This wasn’t real. He couldn’t let himself be lulled into falling for the very story they were spinning for the press. He released her and stepped back.
“Look, I should head home.”
“I’ll be in touch first thing in the morning.”
He settled on the same greeting he gave his brothers’ fiancées, and kissed her cheek.
Then he left the apartment. Quickly. Because the stupid part of his brain had told him to kiss her again. And this time, not on the cheek.
* * *
His 24-Hour Wife is part of the Hawke Brothers trilogy: Three tycoon bachelors, three very special mergers …
His 24-Hour Wife
Rachel Bailey


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
RACHEL BAILEY developed a serious book addiction at a young age (via Peter Rabbit and Jemima Puddleduck), and has never recovered. Just how she likes it. She went on to earn degrees in psychology and social work but is now living her dream—writing romance for a living.
She lives in a piece of paradise on Australia’s Sunshine Coast with her hero and four dogs, where she loves to sit with a dog or two, overlooking the trees and reading books from her evergrowing to-be-read pile.
Rachel would love to hear from you and can be contacted through her website, www.rachelbailey.com (http://www.rachelbailey.com).
This book is for Charles Griemsman, who’s worked on all my Desire books since 2009. Charles, you are an absolute pleasure to work with, and have such an excellent eye for story. Thank you for making my books better!
Thank you to Barbara DeLeo, Amanda Ashby and Sharon Archer for your brainstorming and suggestions. Also to Amy Andrews for my favourite line in the book. You’re all amazing!
Contents
Cover (#uf8ee9191-b152-55c7-8eb7-db1e355f78d4)
Introduction (#uc58b0be1-5626-5871-8dc5-148f31a21893)
Title Page (#ud5152278-d540-5caf-9f77-29cc5557dd8f)
About the Author (#u67fc0b6a-bb9f-5ad4-a524-6322f4e41207)
Dedication (#u9e90f938-2a61-5d42-8a55-e9e2fb58e57e)
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#u899d9e0d-16c7-570a-a3b6-7a59ac33e1b9)
Callie Mitchell straightened her skirt, took a deep breath to calm the butterflies in her stomach and followed the receptionist to Adam Hawke’s office on the top floor of a downtown LA office building. The central operations of his company, Hawke’s Blooms, took up the entire floor and, as CEO, Adam had a corner office, which had to have killer views.
In hindsight, it had probably been a bad idea to stop on the way for a little Dutch courage—especially because it had been alcohol that had started this whole crazy mess—but she’d needed some help. It wasn’t every day a woman had an appointment to see her secret husband.
In fact, she hadn’t seen him once in the three months since their wedding day, so this was quite the momentous occasion. They’d met at an industry conference in Las Vegas just over two years ago and spent an amazing night together, then had hooked up again at the following year’s conference. Third time had been the charm—this year they’d added vows to their rendezvous.
The receptionist opened the door and waved her through and suddenly Callie was standing in front of him. The man she’d spent the most explosive times of her life with. The rest of the world faded away, leaving only him. The oxygen must have faded away, as well, because suddenly she couldn’t get her lungs to work.
The receptionist had slipped out and closed the door behind her, leaving them alone, but Callie couldn’t find a word to say. Although Adam wasn’t saying anything, either.
He was as perfect as she remembered, which was a surprise—she’d been certain her imagination had embellished things, that no man could be that gorgeous. Yet here was over six feet of proof standing before her. His green eyes were as intense, his frame as broad and powerful as the image she had in her mind’s eye. But he was wearing a suit with a crisp white shirt and dark blue tie. Most of her memories were of him stretched across the Vegas hotel sheets wearing nothing but a smile.
He cleared his throat. “You look different as a brunette.”
She’d gone back to her natural caramel brown about three weeks ago, but instead of telling him that, she heard herself say, “You look different with clothes on.”
His eyes widened, and she covered her mouth. That Dutch courage had been a very bad idea.
Then he laughed, a low rumble that seemed to fill the room. “I’m starting to remember why I married you.”
“And what drove you away again,” she said and smiled. After a day spent in bed, gradually sobering up, Adam had suggested a divorce. She’d been having so much fun—and was, in all honesty, so dazzled by the Adonis who’d proposed to her—that she would have given their marriage a shot. But she’d had no rational argument for staying together, so she’d agreed.
Still, after three months, neither one of them had started those divorce proceedings. She didn’t know Adam’s reasons, but there was a small kernel of hope deep in her chest that maybe he wasn’t quite ready to cut all ties with her yet.
He indicated two upholstered chairs near the windows, which, sure enough, offered a premium view of Los Angeles below. “Take a seat. Can I get you a drink?”
She knew he probably meant coffee or tea, but still she winced, remembering the gin she’d stupidly had before coming. “No, I’m fine. I won’t be here long.”
He nodded and took the chair across from her. Then his expression turned serious. “What do you need, Callie?”
For a moment all she could focus on was the sound of her name on his lips. His voice was deep and still sent a warm shiver through her. Three months ago he’d whispered her name in the heat of passion. Had murmured it when she’d kissed the smooth skin of his abdomen. Had shouted it as he’d found his release. More than anything, she wanted to hear him say her name again. Then his question registered, and she straightened her spine.
“Why do you think I need something?”
His forehead creased into a row of frown lines. “I just assumed...” He let the sentence trail off. “After all this time, I figured if you were contacting me, you must—”
“I don’t need anything,” she said, holding up her hands, palms out. “I’m here as a courtesy, to let you know something.”
His jaw hardened. “You’re getting married?”
The way his mind worked was intriguing. She remembered that from their short time together—she’d been constantly fascinated by the things he said.
“No, I’m up for a promotion.” Her PR firm had finally given her a chance to make partner—something she’d been working toward for years—and she wasn’t going to let the opportunity go.
“Congratulations,” he said. “So how does this involve me?”
“They’ve given me an assignment. If I handle this project well, I’ll make partner.” At twenty-nine, she’d be the youngest partner in the history of the firm.
He raised one eyebrow. “What’s the assignment?”
“The Hawke Brothers’ Trust.” His company’s new charity raised money for homeless children; it had already made a splash with various events, including a bachelor auction, and was now ready to move to the next level. Something Callie was looking forward to being a part of.
“Ah,” he said, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize Jenna had brought in your company.”
Adam’s future sister-in-law, Princess Jensine of Larsland, had helped to create the charity and was in charge of day-to-day operations. Callie had suspected Adam wasn’t aware that her company had become involved. Which was why she was here, warning him, before she started work on the project.
“There was a good chance we’d run in to each other in a meeting or something, and I wanted to give you a heads-up before that happened.”
“I appreciate it. So,” he said, offering her half a smile, “how have you been?”
Despite being married, they didn’t really know each other well enough to catch up. They had no basic information to catch up on. So she said, “Good, and you?”
“Good,” he said, nodding.
It was awkward, so she took a breath and refocused. “I was thinking that maybe we should have our stories straight in case anyone puts two and two together.”
He rubbed a hand over his chin. “You mean about us being married?”
“Since I’ll be working with members of your family, it’s a possibility.”
“It won’t happen. They don’t know I—” He swallowed. “They don’t know what happened.”
“You didn’t tell your family that you got married?” She hadn’t expected he would brag about a short-lived Vegas wedding, but equally, she hadn’t expected that he’d keep it a secret from his two brothers. In the short time they’d spent together, he’d mentioned he was close to his younger brothers.
He shifted in his seat. “Did you tell your friends and family?”
“I didn’t tell everyone, but I told my sister.” She moistened her lips. “You seriously didn’t tell anyone?”
His face was unreadable. “I don’t generally telegraph my mistakes to the world.”
Asking her for a divorce had pretty much shown he had thought of their wedding as a mistake, but still, there was something in the way he held himself tall in the chair—and in his tone as he said it—that had made her feel small and insignificant. She’d thought of their time together as something wild and crazy, something out of character, where they just went too far. She hadn’t thought of herself as someone’s mistake. It hurt more than she would have expected.
But now that he’d made his feelings crystal clear, the stupid part of her needed to let go.
She took a breath. “While I’m here, we really should talk about a divorce.”
“Already underway,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve filled in the paperwork and was just waiting for my brother’s wedding to be over before filing it.”
“Oh, right. Good.” Everyone knew Adam’s younger brother was marrying Princess Jensine of Larsland, so Callie could see that he wouldn’t want to draw attention when the media could be hunting for stories.
“I didn’t want my alcohol-fueled decision to have ramifications for him.”
Flinching, she stood and hitched her bag over her shoulder. “I should go. Let me know when you’re ready to file the divorce papers.”
“Callie.” He reached out to her as he stood, and then let his hand drop. It was the first time his voice had held a note of tenderness since she’d entered his office. He’d been the only man who’d ever affected her with merely his voice, and she wobbled. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was probably harsh. I don’t want us to part on bad terms.”
“It’s fine,” she said, summoning a polite smile. “But I’ve taken up enough of your time. I just wanted to give you some forewarning and I’ve done that, so I’d better get back to promoting the Hawke Brothers’ Trust.”
He held her gaze for a heartbeat or two, searching her eyes. Then he nodded and stepped back. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
Callie smiled and slipped out the door. Halfway down the corridor, her cell rang, and she paused in the reception room to answer it. A colleague’s name flashed on the screen: Terence Gibson. He’d recently been up for the same promotion as Callie and his competitiveness had bordered on excessive. Since she’d been offered this project with the chance to win the promotion if she did well, she knew this wasn’t going to be a congratulatory call.
“Hi, Terence,” she said.
“I can see why the partners gave you this assignment,” he said, not bothering to hide the malice in his voice.
She punched the elevator button. “And why is that?”
“Being married to one of the clients will certainly give you an edge.”
She froze.
“Oh, you mean they don’t know about your marriage to Adam Hawke? Oh, dear. I wonder what upper management will say when they find out. It will hardly make them feel as if they can trust you, and I hear they value open and clear communication in their partners.”
The elevator arrived but she ignored it, sagging back against the wall. “How did you...?”
“You really need to work on your poker face, Callie. The expression when they told you it was for the Hawke Brothers’ Trust would have told anyone watching closely enough that you had some sort of connection. The question was only about which brother. After a bit of searching I found that you married one of them three months ago. Although I couldn’t find a record of a divorce anywhere. I assume that’s where you are now? With your husband?”
Her stomach clenched tight. “What do you want, Terence?”
Despite asking the question she had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be.
“Stand back from this assignment and let them hand it to me.”
It was what she’d expected him to say, but still, the gall of the man, the entitled arrogance, was staggering. “You know I won’t do that. It would be handing you the promotion, as well.”
“Then I’ll sell the story to the tabloids,” he said, his voice almost gleeful. “I’m sure you can imagine what a PR disaster that will create. They’ll love an exposé about the future prince’s brother having a drunken wedding in a tacky Las Vegas chapel.”
“No.” It would overshadow her assignment and ruin her chances of the promotion.
“Then step away now and give me a clear shot at the partnership.”
So either she stepped back and let Terence have the partnership, or she stayed and he caused a scandal, meaning he’d probably get the partnership instead of her anyway. Neither of those choices was appealing, but she especially didn’t like giving in to blackmail. She needed time to think. To find a third option. She had to stall him.
“Give me a few days to think about it. Even if I tell the partners I can’t take the assignment I’ll need some time to come up with a believable reason.”
“You have one day. Twenty-four hours.”
The line went dead.
Callie blew out a breath, turned on her heel and headed back to Adam Hawke’s office.
* * *
Adam stood when Rose, his receptionist, buzzed to tell him Callie Mitchell wanted to see him again. It had barely been five minutes since she’d left. He told Rose to let her through, and then had a look around the room for something Callie had forgotten. He couldn’t find anything. But then, he was hardly focused enough to be sure.
Since she’d first made the appointment yesterday, he’d been unsettled. He’d dreamed about her last night, about their time together. About making love to her. Though that wasn’t uncommon—he regularly dreamed about making love to her.
Which just showed how bad she was for his equilibrium. Control over himself and his life was important to him, and Callie made him feel off-center—a feeling he disliked intensely.
Then from the moment she’d appeared through his door this morning, he’d barely had two functioning brain cells to rub together. Hell, he hadn’t even greeted her, just made some inane comment about her hair. Though her reply had been memorable...
He prayed this would be a short visit so he wouldn’t make a fool of himself by blurting out something worse than what she’d said.
After a knock on his door, there she was again, as if conjured from his dreams, her rich, caramel-brown hair hanging sleek around her shoulders, her olive skin smooth. He knew from experience the taste of that skin, and his heart skipped a beat as the memory flooded his senses.
“Did you forget something?” he managed to ask.
She shook her head, her silver-blue, almond-shaped eyes serious. Something had changed.
She tipped up her chin and met his gaze squarely. “We have a problem.”
He was careful not to touch her and set off more memories as he moved behind her to shut the door and lead her to one of the chairs they’d occupied only minutes before.
Once they were settled, he said, “Okay, tell me.”
“A colleague of mine,” she said, her emphasis on the word colleague telling him much, “noticed my surprise when I was given this assignment and started digging. He’s found our marriage license and is threatening to tell the tabloids.”
Adam swore under his breath. “What does he get out of it?”
“He wants this promotion and he wants me out of the way. He thinks the media coverage of your secret Vegas wedding will overshadow any PR work I do for the trust, and he’s probably right. He wants me to refuse the assignment and let him have it.”
“Like hell.” There wasn’t much that Adam hated more than a bully, and he refused to let Callie become the victim of one while he had any power over the situation. “The trust won’t work with a man who’s blackmailed his way to get the role.”
“If I step back and you refuse to work with him, he’ll probably still plant the story out of spite. We’d both still lose.”
Callie’s entire demeanor was professional, but underneath she had to be rattled. Every protective instinct inside him reared up, ready for whatever needed to be done.
“Give me one minute.”
He stood, strode over to his desk and pressed the buzzer for his receptionist. “Rose, cancel all my meetings for the rest of the day.”
“Certainly. Do you want me to give a reason?”
“Just that something unexpected has come up. Then reschedule them as soon as you can.”
“Consider it done.”
He grabbed a legal pad and pen and returned to his wife. It wasn’t just Callie’s job in danger, though that alone would be enough to make him take action. No, he wouldn’t let his stupid mistake create trouble for his brother and future sister-in-law. His Vegas wedding had been out of character for him, and since then he’d taken the consequences seriously—he hadn’t let himself drink more than a glass or two of alcohol at a time, and rarely let his control slip even an inch. This was just another consequence that needed addressing.
And he could fix this. That was what he’d always done in his family—fix things. The only difference was that this time, Callie was the one with the PR expertise.
“So, how do we handle the PR fallout when the story hits the press?”
A tentative smile crept across her face. “You want me to stand up to him?”
“Well, I certainly don’t want you to give in to blackmail.” He frowned, searching her features. “What did you expect me to say?”
“I don’t know. Thing is, I don’t really know you that well, so it’s a pleasant surprise that you’re willing to stand behind me.”
She might not know him as well as, say, his brothers did, but surely she at least knew this much of his character? “Callie, I know our history is a little unconventional, but don’t ever doubt that I’ll stand behind you.”
“Thank you,” she said, and for one brief, shining moment he recognized the passionate woman from Vegas who’d snagged his attention from the moment he’d laid eyes on her in the bar. “That means a lot. And it goes both ways.”
“I appreciate it. Now, what’s our first move?”
She tapped a bright red fingernail against matching red pursed lips as she thought. “We need to get ahead of the story. Be on top of it and create our own story.”
“Sounds good,” he said. “How do we do that?”
“We need to come up with our own version of our wedding.” She rose to her feet and started pacing, her words coming rapidly. “Create a new truth—it was love at first sight. Make it a sweet story, not the sleazy version that the tabloids will want to print, and get that new truth in the media ASAP to beat the other story. My contacts will help get it out quickly.”
Adam made a few notes, and then looked them over. “It doesn’t seem like enough—it will be one version versus the other.”
“True,” she said, holding up an index finger, “but that’s only step one.”
He smiled. “Good.”
“The second part is to give them the current story.”
He made another note on the legal pad and asked without looking up, “What sort of current story?”
“Something about us.” She stopped pacing.
“About us being together?” he asked warily.
“That would be best.” She rested her hands on her hips, her mind obviously going at a million miles per hour. “Perhaps that we’re ready to have a real wedding.”
He hid the instinctive flinch. If they were to find a workable solution, he needed to be open to all ideas in this first brainstorming phase. “How does that help?”
“Then, the story of our Vegas wedding becomes a very sweet, love-at-first-sight beginning to our current relationship and can’t harm my career or your family. I’ll let my bosses know before the story appears, and apologize for not disclosing the fact sooner, saying we’d agreed not to tell anyone before the announcement.”
“A wedding,” he said, this time allowing his skepticism to show.
She shrugged one slim shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be forever, just until the story dies down and we can quietly separate and go back to our normal lives.”
“How do we explain the intervening months?”
“I’m not sure. Give me a moment.”
Again, she tapped her nail against pursed lips and, as he watched, he sat back. She was even more beautiful in real life than she’d been in his dreams last night. They’d been back in the Vegas hotel bed where he’d kissed that same lush mouth and covered her naked body with his. His blood began to heat. He stared at the light fixture in the ceiling as he brought his wayward body back under control.
“Okay,” she said, gracefully sliding back into the chair across from him. “What if we say we gave it a go at the start but circumstances tore us apart. However, we never lost touch and recently we’ve begun to work through our problems and can finally announce that we’re ready to begin a life together as husband and wife.”
He released a long breath, mentally checking all angles. “That roller-coaster history will feed in to the explanations when we break up again afterward. What will it take to convince them that we didn’t just make this story up as a stunt?”
“Besides the story itself, which we’ll give to an entertainment journalist I trust, I’ll have friends leak details to key journalists. We’ll also need to appear in public together, and do some media interviews. Then we’ll have the wedding.”
The last item on her list caught him off guard. His mouth dried. “You really want to go through with an entire wedding?”
Callie, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed by the prospect. Apparently she had nerves of steel. “We’re already married, so it won’t change anything legally. Either way, we’ll still need to get a divorce at some stage.”
Adam swallowed hard. She was right. Besides the cost of a wedding, which would barely make a dent in his bank balance thanks to the success of Hawke’s Blooms, marrying her again wouldn’t make any important difference—they were already married. But being around her, spending significant amounts of time near that lush mouth, just might change everything...
Two (#u899d9e0d-16c7-570a-a3b6-7a59ac33e1b9)
Four and a half hours later, Adam looked around his brother Liam’s living room at his collected family. Liam and his fiancée shared the sofa, a baby in each of their laps. On the opposite sofa were his youngest brother, Dylan, and his fiancée, Faith. Dylan and Faith now split their time between New York and LA; Adam was lucky they happened to be in town for this meeting. His parents were in two armchairs near Liam’s elbow, and he and Callie rounded out the group.
Everyone was chatting in twos and threes, catching up on each other’s news. But it was time to face the music. Adam’s gut clenched tight.
He turned to Callie and quietly said, “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she answered, her expression not giving away much.
Bracing himself to lay out his mistake in front of the people whose opinions counted the most, Adam cleared his throat. His family quieted and turned to him, waiting.
“Thanks for adjusting your schedules so you could come out here on short notice. I needed to introduce you to Callie Mitchell. Callie is taking over the PR for the Hawke Brothers’ Trust.”
Both his brothers raised eyebrows at him, but Jenna jumped right in. “I’m thrilled to meet you, Callie. You probably already know, but I head up the trust, so we’ll be working together.”
Callie smiled back. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“However,” Liam said, his head cocked to the side, “this raises the question of why you’re introducing her to all of us and not Jenna.”
Dylan held up a hand like a stop signal. “Are you about to try and talk us in to some crazy-ass PR stunt like the bachelor auction?”
Adam snorted. “As I recall, that stunt seemed to work out well for you.” He looked pointedly at Dylan’s hand holding Faith’s—she was the person who had bought the package of three dates with Dylan at the auction.
Dylan grinned, acknowledging the point, and then leaned in to kiss Faith’s cheek, which had turned pink.
“So why are we all here, then?” his mother asked.
Adam drew in a breath and cast another quick look at Callie, to ensure she was coping with his family’s antics. Besides being a little tense—which was to be expected under the circumstances—she seemed fine.
“Callie and I...” he began, wishing he was anywhere but here. “We knew each other before she took this account.”
Dylan made a sympathetic sound. “Callie, sweetheart, if you’ve dated my brother, let me apologize now. He can be a little—”
“Uptight,” Liam interrupted.
“Yeah,” Dylan said without missing a beat. “Let’s go with uptight.”
Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. His life was unraveling and they wanted to take the opportunity to rib him?
“She didn’t date me,” he said when he knew his voice would be even again. “She married me.”
After a moment of stunned silence, the room erupted into questions, each being called more loudly than the one before. Even the babies, Jenna’s daughter, Meg, and Liam’s daughter, Bonnie, joined in on the action, laughing and waving their arms around.
Callie looked over at him, her eyes wide. He didn’t know much about his wife, but from her reaction he guessed she didn’t come from a boisterous family. This was a baptism of fire into the Hawke clan.
“Sorry,” he said, and offered her a tight smile. He loved his family, but they tried his patience at least half the time. He turned back to the horde. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll let you know what happened.”
The noise immediately stopped, and Adam could breathe again. “Callie and I met at a conference in Vegas several years ago. We’ve spent time together at the same conference for three years running and at this last one, we made a spur-of-the-moment decision to get married.”
Liam was first to find his voice. “I assume alcohol was involved?”
“Please tell me there was an Elvis impersonator officiating,” Dylan said, clearly loving the entire debacle.
Adam kept his voice even. “Alcohol on both sides, and no Elvis impersonator.”
His mother leaned forward in her chair. “From the fact that this is the first we’re hearing about it, you clearly didn’t plan on staying married. So why are you telling us at all? Are you hoping to make a go of it now?”
“Hey!” Dylan said before Adam could reply. “I just realized why you refused to be part of the bachelor auction. You were already married.”
Adam winced. The auction had taken place just after he’d arrived home from the fateful weekend in Vegas. He might not have been telling the world about the wedding, but neither would he lie and pretend to be a bachelor. However, he ignored the question and turned back to his mother.
“Callie was given this account by the partners of her firm without them knowing about our connection. Unfortunately, a colleague of hers found out and is hoping to blackmail her into handing the project over to him so that he can get the promotion when it’s completed.”
“That’s awful,” Faith said. “I hate petty politics like that. Can’t you tell the partners?”
Callie leaned forward. “I could, but the story would probably get out anyway, and I think with Adam’s connection to Larsland’s royal family through Jenna, combined with his profile here in LA, the tabloids would have fun with the story.”
“And,” Adam added, “that could be disastrous for the trust. Donations could dry up. Not to mention the impact it could have on the coverage of Liam and Jenna’s wedding.”
Both Liam and Jenna opened their mouths to speak, but Callie got in ahead of them. She was a quick study in how to deal with his family, and he appreciated that.
“It’s okay,” she said. “We have a plan.”
Callie looked to Adam, as if for permission to explain. He nodded—it was her idea, so it was only fitting that she explained it.
“We’re going to take control of the story and announce our new relationship. We’ll speak to some journalist friends of mine and have it run in the media, complete with photos. The story will then be about an unconventional start to a sweet relationship. Hopefully, the interest will die down and we’ll be able to go back to normal sooner rather than later.”
“New relationship?” his mother asked hopefully.
Adam almost laughed. Of the entire crazy story, that was the phrase his mother had focused on.
“Sorry, but the story is fake. Callie and I will wait until any interest has blown over, then quietly get a divorce. The only ones who will know the truth are the people in this room and Callie’s family.”
His mother looked disappointed, but there was nothing he could do about that. Besides, she’d soon be gaining two new daughters-in-law. She was doing well enough without him having to add to the count.
“I’m worried you’re doing this for us,” Jenna said with a hand on Liam’s thigh. “You don’t have to—we’ll be fine.”
They might be fine, but he’d be damned if he’d let his drunken mistake hurt his brothers or Jenna’s family. It was his mess and he’d clean it up.
“Callie and I have discussed the potential ramifications on your family, Jenna, but also on the trust and Callie’s career. We’ve agreed this is the best course of action.”
“What can we do to help?” Liam asked.
“We have the situation in hand,” Callie said. “All you need to do is play along and attend the wedding.”
Faith sat up straighter, as if she’d had an idea. “I can do a story on the wedding flowers on my TV segment if that will help.”
Faith had recently started a job with a nationally syndicated gardening show, doing regular segments on flowers and floristry. The job was based in New York, and now she and Dylan split their time between New York and LA.
Jenna nodded. “Liam has a new flower, a snow-white tulip, almost ready to go. Instead of an event for this one, we could use the wedding as its launch. That will give the media something else to focus on besides digging for the truth.”
That could help. Liam’s work breeding new strains of flowers had been part of the reason their company had made a mark in the world of flower retailing. Jenna had organized red-carpet launches for the past two new blooms, and Faith’s skills as a florist had ensured the most recent, the Blush Iris, had been presented to best effect, garnering them maximum exposure.
“It’s gorgeous,” Faith said, turning her excited gaze to Jenna. “Since you weren’t firm on a name yet, perhaps we could tie it in? Call it the Bridal Tulip.”
Jenna and Faith fell into a conversation about the flowers, while his parents took the opportunity to welcome Callie into the family, even if only temporarily. Adam watched, until his brothers approached him, blocking Callie from view.
Liam pulled Adam to his feet and clapped him on the back. “I can’t believe you’ll be the first of us to get married.”
“Will be?” Dylan said. “He already is married. We’re going to have to watch his drinking from now on.”
Despite knowing it was a good-natured joke, Adam bristled at the thought of having to be watched like a child by his younger brothers, of all people. He tried to move away, but his brothers had boxed him in.
“You know,” Liam said, pretending to think, “I don’t remember the last time I saw him drunk.”
Dylan grinned. “Now we know why. It makes him feel matrimonial.”
Ignoring them, he shouldered his way past, reached for Callie’s hand and then raised his voice to be heard over the din. “Much as I’d love to stay and enjoy Liam and Dylan’s brand of support, Callie and I have to leave. We’re meeting with her family, as well, tonight.”
Within a few minutes, they had extricated themselves and made it to the car. Yet, even as he started the engine, his shoulders wouldn’t relax. No one liked to have their screwups made into a joke, but still, it had rankled more than it should have for his family to witness the consequences of the only time in years he’d lost control.
And this farce was only just beginning...
* * *
Callie glanced over at her husband’s strong profile, and a shiver raced down her spine. She’d spent most of the day with him, but there was something different about being in close quarters together in the dark cabin of the car. More intimate than a large, bright office and much more personal than a room with his entire family.
She felt the pull of him more strongly here, with nothing to claim her attention but his masculine beauty. His scent. Him.
His hands were firmly gripping the steering wheel and he seemed unsettled.
“That went okay?” she ventured.
“Sure, if you like publically admitting to your drunken mistakes and having them turned into wisecracks by your brothers.”
At the words drunken mistakes, she cringed. Her reaction was stupid since she already knew Adam regretted their marriage, but still, she couldn’t help it. It was like a slap in the face.
No point being squeamish now, especially when it was her job that was forcing them to make their situation public. She sat up straighter. “Let’s put your brothers behind us and move on.”
“Fine with me,” he said, rolling his broad shoulders. “Fill me in on your family so I’m prepared before we arrive. Are they likely to mock? Chase me with a shotgun?”
“No, it’ll be all safe and calm. My parents are both teachers, happily married and loving parents. They’ll want to know the details, but ultimately they’ll support whatever I choose to do.”
“Siblings?” he asked as he smoothly overtook a car full of teenagers who had their music up loud. She tried not to be mesmerized by the way his hands and arms worked to control the car.
“One sister, Summer. She’s also my roommate.” And best friend. In fact, Summer was the only person Callie had told about Adam when she’d returned from Vegas. She’d spilled the beans on the spontaneous wedding, her toe-curlingly handsome new husband and her hope that it might grow into something more one day. A hope that had turned out to be in vain.
“Will she be there tonight?” His voice was deep and rumbling, almost a physical presence in the car.
“She said she’d come for moral support. She already knew about Vegas, and I filled her in on the phone this afternoon, so she’s up-to-date on the plan.”
She and Summer had always been inseparable. Even since she was ten and Summer was eleven, they’d had a plan to conquer the world. As they’d grown up, the plan had changed a few times, but their ambition hadn’t wavered. By the time they’d reached college and found they both had a flair for PR, they’d decided that they’d one day open their own firm, Mitchell and Mitchell. In the meantime, they were working in different firms so they could gather a broader range of skills and contacts. Either one of them making partner would give them the best springboard into their own firm, so it had always been a priority.
Along the way, they were both supposed to find men they loved, but who were also movers and shakers. Men with power and social influence. Men somewhat like the man sitting within touching distance from her now. Her husband.
The remnants of a child’s idea of a successful life could still be seen in their life plan, but it was more than that. It was the American dream. Their parents were comfortably middle-class, and happy with their lot, but Callie and Summer had always dreamed of more.
That she had accidentally ended up married to someone who didn’t want to stay married only set their life plan back a little. But she and Summer would get through this and get back on track after Callie was free to divorce Adam Hawke.
As they neared her parents’ house, she gave directions until they finally pulled up in the driveway. Summer’s car was already here, so they were all systems go.
“What a nice home,” Adam said, his tone polite.
Callie looked at the modest, single-story brick house, conscious of how it must seem to him. The gardens were bursting with flowers, but to Adam’s expert eye, they would be nothing special—daisies and other plants that were easy to grow. And, though she knew he’d come from humble beginnings, it must have been a long time since he’d been inside a house that wasn’t luxurious and stylish. She wondered what he was thinking, but his expression gave nothing away.
“Come on,” she finally said. “Let me introduce you to my family.”
* * *
By the time the mission was complete and they were on their way back to Adam’s car with Summer walking beside them, almost an hour had passed.
“That went quite well,” Summer said brightly.
Callie returned the smile but couldn’t match the wattage. “I think they’re disappointed in me.”
Adam whipped his head around to face her, his dark brows drawn together. “They should be proud of you. Any parent would be proud to have a daughter like you.”
Callie stilled. It was the first compliment Adam had given her since the night of their wedding. And even then, he’d been light on the complimenting front. It sent a happy buzz through her bloodstream, to her fingers and toes, and she was appalled. She couldn’t let a simple compliment from Adam Hawke affect her this much. It would be granting him power over her.
She braced every muscle in her body, bringing her reaction to him under control.
“Thank you,” she said through tight lips.
Without looking at her, Adam gave a quick nod, and then thumbed the keyless lock.
Summer watched the exchange with a thoughtful expression before she added, “They’re not disappointed. They’re just surprised. It will take them a little while to process it all, but they’ll be fine. It will take everyone a little time before it feels natural. Including you two.”
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Callie said.
“That’s true.” Summer folded her arms under her breasts and regarded them both. “I’m just going to come out and say this. You two don’t look like a couple in love.”
Adam shrugged. “If you’re looking for someone who gushes, you’ve got the wrong man.”
Summer shook her head. “It’s more about how comfortable you seem around each other. Or, more precisely, how uncomfortable.”
“We’ll be fine when the curtain goes up,” Adam said dismissively.
Callie bit down on her lip. Summer was right. No one would believe the story they were going to try to spin if it wasn’t backed up by nonverbal communication between them, and she and Adam weren’t in the least at ease in each other’s company.
“What do you suggest?” Callie asked.
Summer tapped her index finger against her lips and considered them. “A bit of rehearsal time should do it.”
Callie suppressed an involuntary shiver at the thought of practicing touching Adam. Since she’d arrived in his office this morning, they’d barely touched. But memories of touching him freely—of being touched by him—were burned into her brain. No one had ever made her come alive like Adam. She might have been under the influence of alcohol when she said her vows, but she’d been equally influenced by the man himself. By his touch. By his hands. By his mouth.
Even now, in her parents’ driveway, she felt her heart pick up pace at the prospect of experiencing his touch again.
Adam, however, seemed unmoved. His decision about their marriage must have been mainly a result of the alcohol. If she wasn’t careful, she would make a fool out of herself while they rehearsed. What she needed was a chaperone. Someone to remind her that this was all make-believe.
“Will you help?” she asked her sister.
Summer smiled. “Of course. How about now? We could grab some takeout and go back to the apartment.”
“I don’t think it’s necessary,” Adam interjected, everything about him screaming reluctance.
Callie took a step closer, until she was a hand span away, and reached up to cup the side of his face with her palm, ignoring the part of her that demanded she take it further. His jaw was lightly stubbled, and his skin was warm and enticing.
Adam’s eyes widened with surprise and his spine went ramrod-straight.
With great effort, Callie took a step back and met his gaze, hoping that nothing in her own betrayed her. “That’s what Summer’s talking about. We need to be comfortable enough with each other that our reactions to unexpected touch won’t give the game away.”
Adam blew out a breath and leaned against his car. “And you’re suggesting we practice.”
Callie nodded. “Don’t worry. It will be aboveboard. Summer will be there as our outsider point of view. If we’re going to do this, we need to do it properly.”
“Okay. How about you go back with Summer. Give me directions to your place and I’ll pick up some food on the way.”
As Callie told him how to get to her apartment, her stomach fluttered. She was going to spend the evening practicing touching Adam Hawke.
Or, more precisely, she was going to spend the evening pretending to be unaffected while her husband touched her. And she wasn’t even sure that was entirely possible.
Three (#u899d9e0d-16c7-570a-a3b6-7a59ac33e1b9)
Adam shifted the bags of food to one hand and pressed the buzzer for Callie’s apartment. When he’d woken this morning, he’d grabbed a quick coffee before heading for the gym. His head had been full of thoughts about the day ahead: a meeting with a potential supplier and some paperwork he needed to catch up on. Not once had he even come close to imagining how the day would truly unfold.
Less than twenty-four hours since Callie had crashed back into his life, his schedule, his family and his life were all in a mess.
He was used to being the one who solved problems, not the one in the middle of the trouble. But one day with Callie Mitchell had turned the tables on him.
And worse, he might be getting ready to participate in a sham of a marriage, but he’d learned one thing today—his desire for his wife was anything but imaginary. It threatened to overwhelm him anytime she was near. But he had to keep any reaction to her buttoned down. If he was to survive what was coming with his sanity intact, he’d need to keep a very clear line between what was real and what was part of the PR plan.
The door buzzed and opened, and he headed into the foyer and took the elevator to the sixth floor.
Callie was waiting in the doorway to her apartment, giving him a nervous smile, and his shoulders relaxed a little. He was glad he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable about the situation.
He held out the bags in offering. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got sushi, Chinese and pizza.”
Summer popped her head around the corner. “Great. I call dibs on the sushi.” She grabbed the bags and headed back into the apartment, leaving him in the doorway with Callie.
She’d changed into jeans and a sky-blue top, and her long, caramel hair was caught up in a sleek ponytail. She looked understated and utterly desirable.
“Look,” she said, digging her hands into her pockets, “I just want to say how sorry I am that you’re caught up in this.”
He frowned, not quite following her thinking. “I signed the marriage license right beside you.”
“But no one would ever have known if it wasn’t for my job. And my slimy coworker.”
“Still not your fault,” he said dismissively. “Besides, you never know what journalists would have found once they started digging for dirt when Liam and Jenna’s wedding drew closer.”
If anyone was to take the lion’s share of the blame, it should be him. Among his brothers, he’d always been the one who could be relied upon to be the most responsible, a trend that had started when they were kids and his parents would leave him in charge of Liam and Dylan. It was one of the reasons they’d voted him CEO of the entire Hawke’s Blooms company.
Whenever he’d relaxed his guard too much in the past, bad things had happened. Like when he was thirteen and making out with his first girlfriend behind the sheds after school, and a ten-year-old Dylan had wandered off and been missing for two hours. Adam had been frantic. He’d eventually found Dylan safe, but with cuts and bruises from a fall. Adam had been more careful to watch his brothers after that.
Then there was the time he’d let himself get rolling drunk on a trip to Vegas and wound up married...
He followed Callie into the spacious apartment and across to the kitchen. Summer had pulled out some plates and cutlery and she handed them to him to take to the table.
As he watched the sisters work together, a thought occurred to him. “Have either of you had to do this with clients before?”
Callie’s brows drew together. “Pretend to marry them?”
“Ah, no,” he said as he put down the food. “I meant coach people to act like they were...”
“In love?” Summer observed, and he gave a curt nod.
Callie pulled out a chair and sat across from where he was standing. “No, this is a first for us.”
He should have been disconcerted by their lack of specific experience, yet part of him was glad. If she’d been a professional at being able to fake adoration, while he was an amateur, the situation would have been too uneven. He hated feeling like he was in someone else’s hands.
“Actually,” Summer said, “we should be starting now. You two sit beside each other.”
His instinct was to keep more distance between Callie and him—to keep out of arm’s reach—but the suggestion was reasonable. A couple in love would take every opportunity to be close. He crossed around to the other side and sank into the chair beside Callie’s.
This close he could smell her coconut shampoo. It immediately brought back memories of his fingers threaded through her glossy hair. Of it spilling across the pillow while he was above her. His skin heated and suddenly his tie was too tight around his throat. He loosened it and tried his best to appear impervious, which was easier said than done.
He glanced casually at his wife as he spooned fried rice onto his plate. “I assume your plan is that we spend some time near each other so we become accustomed to the other’s presence.”
“Pretty much,” Callie answered. “Though we should do some deliberate things, as well, not just passively sit beside each other.”
He stilled. He was only just coping with sitting this close. “Define deliberate things.”
Callie shrugged as she grabbed a sushi roll from the platter. “Occasional touches. Holding hands. Just so when we do it for the cameras, neither of us flinches. We need to seem used to it.”
He relaxed again. That made sense and didn’t seem too intimate. As long as he had his reactions to her under control, it wouldn’t be a difficult task.
Bracing himself, he reached over and threaded his fingers through hers. “Like this?”
“Just like that,” she said, her expression professional. But there was a small catch in her voice. “And we should talk about our jobs, and things that married people would know about each other.”
Talking. Far preferable to more touching. Holding hands and talking. He could do that.
He rolled his shoulders back, trying to relieve some of the tension that had taken up residence there. “What do you want to know?”
While they ate their meal, she asked questions about his company and he answered. The entire time, he was pretending to be a man unaffected by the woman he was pretending to be in love with. And it was so far from the truth it was laughable—pretending not to be affected was taking so much of his attention he was lucky he didn’t stab himself in the eye with his fork.
“This is going well,” Summer said, taking another sushi roll. “Adam, how about you feed her something?”
Erotic images of feeding his new wife strawberries in his Vegas hotel room flooded his mind, and he froze. He’d had so much to drink that day that he shouldn’t recall it clearly, but he did. He thumped his chest once with his fist to get his lungs working again.
Suddenly, he realized he hadn’t replied, and his face probably had a weird expression. He coughed to try to cover it. Summer and Callie, however, had noticed, and each raised an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” he said. “This is just awkward.”
While Callie looked down at her plate, Summer regarded him with a quizzical expression. “You’ve never held hands with a woman or fed her food? That’s all this is.”
“If I was involved with a woman,” he assured her, “these things would definitely happen, but organically.”
Callie drew in a shallow breath and met his gaze, and he was certain she was remembering the same moments he was. When she’d laughed and flirted with him at the conference cocktail party. When he’d rested a hand on hers at the bar. When they’d kissed and his world had tilted. When they’d only just made it back to his room before tearing each other’s clothes off. When they’d shared more champagne in the bed and accidentally spilled some on their bodies...
The air felt thick with the memories, and Callie’s eyes darkened. Most of the blood in his body headed south, but Adam refused to let himself get carried away. He flicked a glance at her sister, who was watching the interplay from across the table, and sighed. This situation wasn’t about what he wanted in this moment. It wasn’t about fun or entertainment—they were practicing so the world thought they were in love, and he had a responsibility to play his part. He would do that and do it well.
He locked down every physical reaction to the woman beside him, every stray thought or memory. Then he found a fake smile and gave it all the enthusiasm he had, and fed Callie a spoonful of his rice.
She gave him the same overly bright smile back and opened her mouth to receive the fork.
“That’s better,” Summer said. “Though, Callie, can you put your fingers around his wrist to hold it steady?”
Callie complied and Adam refused to react to the warmth of her hand encircling his wrist. To the scent of her skin as she leaned in. To the effect on his body of seeing her lush mouth opening.
“Great,” Summer said. “Now look into each other’s eyes.”
Holding his expression in place, Adam focused on Callie’s silver-blue eyes, and thought about the pile of paperwork waiting for him on his desk. Spreadsheets and graphs. Anything to ensure he didn’t let himself get caught up in a moment that wasn’t real.
Callie looked back at him as she gripped his wrist a little too tightly and ate the food from his fork.
Summer sighed. “That wasn’t believable. How about we clear these plates away and try a few poses in the living room?”
Callie winced. It was a small movement, and if he hadn’t been this close and focusing on her face, he might have missed it. He turned his wrist so he could grab her hand and gave it a slight squeeze, offering reassurance. As he realized what he was doing, he felt like laughing. He’d never had trouble attracting women in the past—hell, he’d even attracted this very woman in the past—yet here he was, offering reassurance because she was going to have to spend a few minutes touching him.
After the table was cleared, they moved into the living room and Callie’s sister spent ten minutes arranging them in various poses. It was awkward and he’d pretty much rather be having a root canal than be arranged like puppets by someone he’d just met. Worse was that he was still fighting the simmering desire for his fellow puppet.
Finally, Summer said, “Hang on. Let me show you something.” She grabbed a digital camera and hooked it to a laptop, then took a few photos of Adam with an arm around Callie’s waist. “Have a look at these.”
Adam moved to the laptop screen and saw the image. He looked stiff and unnatural, and Callie looked almost pained.
“That’s not good enough,” he admitted.
Callie bit down on her bottom lip. “We’re going to have to try harder.” She spun away from the laptop and the evidence of their awkwardness, and took in the room. “What if we put on some music? Maybe we could dance. That would give us something to actually do so we didn’t feel self-conscious.”
“Good idea,” he said. In one sense the closeness of dancing could be dangerous, but if he and Callie took back control of the situation he also might be able to regain control of his body. It was worth a try.
Summer headed for the sound system in the corner, and seconds later, a modern day crooner’s voice filled the room. Adam held out a hand to Callie. “Shall we?”
She smiled at the formality of his offer and took his proffered hand. “We shall.”
Her palm was smooth and warm; the friction of her skin sliding over his set off a depth charge down deep in his belly.
He guided her to an open space between the living room and the entryway that had polished wood floors and less obtrusive lighting. Then he pulled her into his arms and led them in a simple dance step. With the music filling the air, it felt more natural than the poses they’d been trying.
“You were right,” he murmured. “I do feel more comfortable.”
“Me, too,” she said. “Is it okay with you if I move a little closer?”
He chuckled. “We’re supposed to be in love. I think you’re allowed to get as close as you want without asking permission.”
She stepped in and leaned her head on his shoulder. She felt good there. Felt right. As if his body remembered their intimacy. He took his hand from her waist and wrapped it around her, securing her against him, and she let out a contented sigh.
He imagined leaning down, finding her lips and losing himself in her kiss. Then taking her by the hand down the hall to her bedroom...
Except they had an audience.
And they were pretending.
This wasn’t real. He couldn’t let himself be lulled into falling for the very story they were spinning for the press. He released Callie and stepped back.
“I, er,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “That seemed to go better.”
Callie nodded. “I was less self-conscious. What did you think, Summer?”
Summer held up her camera and pointed to the laptop. “Excellent. Once you two started dancing, it was totally believable. Just remember how you did it when photographers ask you to pose.”
“Sure,” Callie said, her voice a little husky. “We’ll pretend we’re dancing.”
Adam rubbed two fingers across his forehead as he contemplated having to repeat this. “Will do,” he said, throwing a glance at the door. He needed some space to clear his head. And to rein in his body. “Look, I should head home. Thanks for your help, Summer.” He stuck out his hand, and Summer shook it. Then he turned to Callie. “Callie, let me know when you have an interview set up and I’ll clear my schedule.”
“I’ll get on it first thing in the morning.”
He nodded. After the dance they’d shared, it seemed ridiculous to offer her the same handshake as her sister, but then again, they weren’t actually dating. He settled on the same greeting he gave his brothers’ fiancées and kissed her cheek.
Then he left the apartment. Quickly. Because the stupid part of his brain had told him to kiss her again. And this time, not on the cheek.
Once he was safely inside the elevator with the doors closed, he thumped his head back on the wall and swore. Next time, he’d have better control over his reactions to Callie Mitchell. Next time, it would simply be like two actors in a scene.
Next time...
He groaned and thumped his head against the wall again as he realized this was only the beginning.
* * *
Two days later, Callie found herself with a journalist, walking through the Hawke Brothers’ flower markets. She was wearing a pale gold dress and kitten heels, her hair and makeup photo-ready.
Adam was striding a few steps ahead with the photographer, who wore ripped jeans and a faded T-shirt. Adam, in contrast, was in a tuxedo, parting the crowd like Moses at the Red Sea. No one walked the way Adam Hawke did—powerfully, and always with a purpose. The jacket fit his shoulders perfectly, highlighting their breadth and strength. It was mesmerizing.
“You sure lucked out in husbands,” Anna Wilson said as she walked in step beside Callie. Anna was the first journalist she’d called when looking for a place to launch the story. She was already a friend, and she had a reputation for writing good, solid stories on famous people that neither simpered over the subject nor made snarky digs.
“Yep, Lady Luck was kind to me that night.” Memories of twisted white sheets and Adam’s naked physique rolled through her mind, causing her mouth to suddenly go dry.
“Maybe I should try Vegas,” Anna said. “If I’m going to try my luck anywhere, then surely luck’s hometown will work as well for me as it did for you.”
A stab of unease hit Callie squarely in the belly. Luck hadn’t smiled on her in Vegas. It had given her a night in heaven, sure, but the price had been high. Spending this time with Adam now might just drive her insane.
“You’re not wearing rings,” Anna said suddenly.
“Rings?” Callie repeated.
“You know,” Anna teased, “those little bands we traditionally exchange when we get engaged and married.”
Callie frowned, surprised at herself for missing this detail. When they’d originally exchanged vows, they’d paid for cheap rings that had come from a tray kept under the counter at the chapel. She and Adam had both taken them off the next morning. Hers was in her makeup case where she’d tucked it after sobering up, and she assumed Adam had thrown his away.
“We’re getting new rings for the new ceremony,” she said, thinking on her feet. “It’s symbolic of us starting fresh.”
Anna smiled dreamily. “I love that idea.”
Adam stopped in front of a large flower stall with shelves covered in buckets of bright blooms in every color. He said a few words to the photographer, and then turned to Callie. “How about we take some of the photos here?”
She surveyed the scene. The backdrop would provide color and evoke happiness, and the light was good. “This would be great,” she said, moving to take Adam’s hand.
He leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on her lips, and her pulse went into overdrive. It wasn’t difficult to find the blissed-out expression that she was supposed to be faking—in fact, she knew it was on her face, whether she wanted it there or not.
Anna glanced around and conferred with Ralph, the photographer, and then said, “This is good. How about we start with you replaying that kiss for us?”
Callie glanced up at Adam and he looked for all the world as if he could think of nothing better than kissing her again. He clearly had the acting thing down pat. Of course, he probably did still desire her—chemistry as strong as what they’d shared wouldn’t likely disappear overnight, but she was well aware he didn’t want to give in to it again. And one thing she’d learned about Adam Hawke in the short time she’d known him was that he had iron willpower.
“It would be my pleasure,” he said, and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her against him as he lowered his head. This time it was no peck on the lips, it was more. So much more. Tempting, sensual and knowing. It was everything. She slid her hands along his wrists, past his elbows to grip his biceps through his shirt, partly to keep him in place and partly to hold herself up.
He trailed his lips to the corner of her mouth and then across to her ear. Whispering her name, he sent a shiver across her skin and bit gently on her earlobe. She turned her face, searching for and finding his kiss, feeling as if she’d found her home, as well.
They eased apart and Callie held on to his arms for an extra beat, her knees too wobbly to hold herself upright, her mind too dazed to think clearly.
“Adam,” she whispered, and in response a lazy smile spread across his face.
“That’s great,” Ralph said. “Just hang on a sec while I adjust some settings.”
Surprised out of the little world she’d been in with Adam, Callie took a step back. She hadn’t given one thought to acting during that kiss or its aftermath. She’d forgotten the photographer was there. Forgotten the rest of the world. In that moment, she couldn’t look at Adam. Didn’t want to know if he was looking down on her with pity for getting carried away, or if he was looking at something else, disinterested in her now that they’d performed for the camera. And if he was as off-kilter as she was? Well, some things were better not to know.
To give herself something to do, she turned to take in the picturesque markets around her, the beautiful displays of flowers of all kinds, all colors, and waited for her breathing to return to normal.
As she turned farther, she felt her dress catch on a bucket of lilies near her feet. Not wanting to hurt the flowers, she picked up her knee-length skirt and took a step back.
“Hang on,” Adam said, looking at her hemline. “You have pollen on your skirt.”
Callie sighed. Pollen was almost impossible to get out of fabric, and this was a good dress. She went to rub her thumb over it, but Adam held up a hand. “Wait. Rubbing it will only make it worse.”
He kneeled down in front of her and took the skirt from her hands, inspecting the stain. Then he retrieved something from his pocket.
“What’s that?” She tilted her head to try and see around him to what he held.
Holding it up for her to see, he gave her a quick smile. “Sticky tape. I always carry a roll when I walk through the markets.”
“Just normal, everyday tape?” she asked, skeptical about what he was doing, but prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt.
He nodded. “Best thing for it.”
She watched as he ripped off a small strip and carefully laid it across the pollen before peeling it off. There was something strangely like a fairy tale about standing amongst the flowers in a pale gold dress with a handsome man on bended knee before her. The fact that he was doing something as practical as helping with her with a pollen mishap, instead of declaring undying love and offering her his kingdom, only made it all the more perfect. Adam Hawke stole her breath no matter what he was doing.
He stood and held the tape out to her. “All gone.”
His voice was low and the sound wouldn’t have reached the ears of those around them, which made the moment feel intimate despite the topic.
She laughed softly, unable to help herself—it just all seemed surreal. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“You learn a lot of tricks when you grow up around flowers.” His green gaze was smoldering, out of proportion to a discussion about flowers and pollen, but then again, whenever he was near, she felt her reactions were out of proportion, too.
She moistened her lips, and his gaze tracked the movement. The idea of losing herself in his kiss again pulled at her, drew her with a powerful intensity, but she wouldn’t forget the photographer again. She angled her head to where the others stood, watching them, and Adam gave her an almost imperceptible nod.
He straightened his spine, took her hand and turned to Ralph and Anna. “If we go a bit farther down this way, we can get some shots with the Midnight Lily in the background.”
Since the Midnight Lily had been developed by Liam and launched less than twelve months ago, it had become one of Hawke’s Blooms’ signature flowers. And that fact served to remind Callie that this was business to Adam—this session with the photographer and this entire plan. And that included the kiss they’d just shared.
She’d been in danger of being swept away in a moment that wasn’t even real.
She couldn’t afford for that to happen again. It would be too easy to fall in love with Adam Hawke, especially if she let herself believe he had feelings for her. That way led to heartache a thousand times worse than what she’d experienced when he wanted to call off their short-lived marriage. They were both just playing the roles they’d agreed to when they’d devised the plan.
Now all she had to do was make sure that she didn’t fall for her own lies.
Four (#u899d9e0d-16c7-570a-a3b6-7a59ac33e1b9)
Callie was just out of the shower when she heard her sister call out.
“It’s gone live,” Summer was saying from two rooms over.
“The interview?” Anticipation quickened her movements as she dried off, put on her silk robe and headed for the living room.
“Yep. I didn’t expect they’d run it for a few more days yet.”
Callie stood behind her sister and peeked over her shoulder at the laptop screen. All the breath left her body as she saw the page. She and Adam had never had a photo taken of themselves together before—their relationship was hardly significant enough to warrant that—and they’d never shared a bathroom to get ready to go out and caught sight of themselves side by side in the mirror, so she hadn’t seen an image of them as a couple reflected back at her. She’d failed to realize the startling effect it would have on her.
There were a few shots of her with Adam among the flowers, but the biggest photo, the one taking up about half the page, was Adam kneeling at her feet, the hem of her dress in his hand.
“That photo is great,” Summer said, pointing to the same one Callie was looking at. “The composition is genius. Was that arrangement the photographer’s idea or yours?”
“Ours,” Callie said faintly, still trying to take it all in.
“Good work. And your expression is perfect. You look totally smitten. All that practice paid off.”
Callie couldn’t reply; she just kept staring at the photo. Because her sister was right—the woman in that photo looked completely smitten by the man in front of her. And the scary part was she hadn’t been pretending. Neither of them had known their picture was being taken.

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