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MARRY ME

“I need you,” Nathan says, and I know he’s talking about work, it’s obvious he’s talking about work, but his voice mixes with the alcohol in my blood. My body thinks he’s talking about something else.

“You need me for graphic design,” I clarify.

“I need you for marriage,” he says, and I’m so shocked I drop my drink. My glass shatters on the ground between us.

“What?” I ask, heart thudding. “It’s too loud. I thought you said...” I shake my head, unwilling to embarrass myself by saying it out loud.

Nathan’s hand moves to the small of my back, and my pulse leaps as he guides us around the broken glass. Then he leans in, so close I can feel his heat near my neck.

His lips move close to my ear and he says, “If I marry, my wife gets a seat on the board. If certain board members think I’m about to get married, they’ll switch over to the winning side. So I need a fake fiancée.”

He says it slowly. Carefully. Unmistakably.

“You’d be perfect,” Nathan says, his voice soft and low in my ear, and s
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