All Chapters of His Fake Fiancee: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

I TURN the faucet handle to the very right, letting the cold water splash against my hands. I'd hoped it would ease my rattling mind that's working like a beehive in overdrive. Too many resurfaced questions. Too many people watching us with whispers under their breaths.The ballroom bathroom looks about how I expected. Porcelain sinks curve around gold spouts, and tall marble stalls reflect at me through the mirrors with glittery heels poking underneath the doors.I release a breath, rummaging through my clutch, right as two girls come stumbling into the bathroom, their hands bracing the walls."Come on," the one wearing a purple slip-dress says, tugging the other. "There's good lighting in here."They giggle on by, nearly running into me, before they whip out their phones. Twisting the bottom of my lipstick tube to unveil a deep red shade, I can't help but sneak peeks at the photoshoot that follows.With a flashing phone pointed her way, the one in purple sits on the countertop, lean

DID YOU HEAR?HANNAHNew York's most eligible billionaire put a ring on it. But you'll never guess on who... No, really, you won't. Because even I've never heard of Hannah Lockwood.Photographs of Damien down on one knee amidst tech royalty in the Bass' family ballroom are zipping across cyberspace faster than the speed of light. And yet, no one's sent me a single tip regarding his young personal assistant or the Lockwoods.If you know of them, please, I want to chat (online, of course).In later, more scandalous news, have you seen the new sex tape starring none other than Sterling Bass and Priscella Vuitton? Even if you won't admit it, bet you have, seeing as its views are skyrocketing on dozens of sites ending in "hub." The raunchy video set in a glitzy yacht cabin mysteriously posted to all of Priscella's socials the same night as the Bass' proposal.Coincidence?I'll let you decide.Albeit behind the mask of a keyboard and an anonymous pseudonymthat shall forever remain a myster

TURNS OUT SOFIA WAS RIGHT.Today, Damien didn't wake me and let me sleep in. But when I awoke to him fresh out of the shower in nothing but a towel, he let me know I could take the day off. I didn't even have to ask. He assumed I'd be nursing a hangover—which he was right.I told him I still plan on coming into the office. After I slept in, of course... Better late than never.Coming out of the bathroom with a white towel twisting my hair into a topknot, I discover a box lying on our bed. Blue ribbon runs along its edges, shining in the afternoon glow through the windows, and crosses into a neat bow containing a white notecard.I hold back a grin, reminding myself I'm still angry about how Damien overreacted yesterday.Hannah—it reads in Damien's annoyingly sharp handwriting.Please accept this gift as my sincere apology and peace-offering.I made us reservations tonight for dinner. Wear this to the office today,and I'll take it as your acceptance to come.Intriguing arousal pools in

HANNAH IS a presence I've grown to need, much like a soothing melody to my ear or oxygen for my soul.For the past two weeks, her warmth has chipped away the chronic stress from my shoulders like wax dripping from a candle, leaving behind a man I can hardly recognize—with a sense of calm and joy.On several occasions, I've laughed so hard with her at the most mundane of things, that tears lined my eyes in a way they haven't since... I don't know how long. It's very clear to me now that she makes me not only a better lover, but a better person, who sees optimism in an unpredictable future, instead of trying to control it.A week ago, she convinced me to take a day off work to go have tea with my mother. Never would I have done that—obviously, not because of my mother, who I adore. But because the very thought of leaving my company unattended, even though I know there are people I specifically hire to handle my affairs when I'm absent, has always been horrid to me. As if one day off cou

NOTHING SPARKS my imagination more than the touch of the wheel beneath my fingertips, even if I'm not tall enough to see through the windshield."Vrr... Vrrr!" I mimic the purr of the engine, feeling vibrations as I pinch my lower lip between my teeth and push air from my lungs.There's no light inside Daddy's shop, not when it's past midnight, aside from the glow from a small desk lamp on top of his workbench. But that makes the thrill more worth it, sneaking out late without making a sound, letting my mind run rampant.With one turn of the wheel, I'm roaring down an open road with no destination in sight. A sandy breeze whisks my hair past my shoulders, invading every crevice of the roofless red Mustang I drive beside an endless ocean."Brrr." My lips flop with a funny feeling.With the next turn of the wheel, I'm a champion speed demon on my sure way to win my seventh NASCAR trophy. My legs elongate to their appropriate size, the bottom of my foot pinning the gas pedal to the groun