Page 24 of Under Fire

“No, you don’t understand—”

He reached out, taking her thin hand in his thick one, challenging her. “Prove me wrong.”

His gaze locked with hers, issuing a reminder. If she was in for a penny, she sure as hell was in for a pound. The way she paused, searching his face, leaning into him slightly, told him that she was genuinely interested—that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. But the way she then pursed her lips told him she was looking for an excuse to not.

He didn’t blame her one bit.

“You don’t feel bad faking it?” Alisa nervously licked her bottom lip, flickering her dark, seductive lashes at him.

She was testing him, and he knew it.

“That’s what makes it more appealing,” he growled, running his thumb across her bottom lip, his gaze falling to her engagement ring. “Because we both know that this can’t happen for real.”

“All the fun and none of the commitment?”

“Exactly.” His eyes darkened, looking into her. “Something tells me that you need it, too.”

She darted her eyes left and right across his face, considering it. It was clearly an offer she couldn’t refuse. Her lips parted, but it became clear to Warren that, like him, she didn’t really want to think. It could all be so simple.

She was so damn wickedly hot. He tightened his fists at his chest, barely able to contain himself. But Warren knew he had to keep his cool. Now that considerable money was involved, things were going to be different.

Alisa’s gaze flashed to the gate, like she was trying to decide if she should run. But the decision was made for them both. His cell phone rang at the patio table.

“Seven days?”

“Okay,” she finally whispered, a little smile curling at the side of her lip.

Deciding between kissing her again and taking the call was harder than he expected.

“Fuck,” he groaned, turning to grab his work cell.

Answering, he had to stifle one last grunt as he had the pleasure of watching Alisa’s sweet fucking tail disappear out of his backyard gate. And it immediately hit him. It was going to be damn hard keeping his hands to himself.

Chapter Nine

Alisa

Alisa searched desperately for an outfit that a fake girlfriend of a SEAL would wear to an engagement party with a bunch of people she didn’t know. Then she melted down to the aging hardwood of her apartment and ran her hands over her face in defeat. The party… Well, there was no chance that she was going to come out unscathed. It wouldn’t take long before someone asked what exactly she was doing there…with a guy like him.

“How am I going to pull this off?” she asked herself, shaking her head. “I was stupid to agree to this.”

She had no idea what had gotten into her. Something about her fiancé being on the opposite coast had given her a false confidence. If he found out what she was doing, he’d lose it. That wouldn’t be pretty.

Alisa talked some sense into herself. She’d have to end the deal—focus on her qualifying exams the next month, focus on getting a residency. And her car? She’d sleep at the hospital if she had to. Apparently there were beds open in the morgue.

Hell, she’d be the morgue’s newest resident if her fiancé caught on.

Envisioning her cold, dead body on a stretcher, Alisa jumped as her cell rang. Checking the display, she suspected it was Warren—calling again from a blocked ID.

“Hello,” she shakily answered the call, preparing to punt him off.

“I’m outside.”

As Warren’s baritone came through the line, she jumped as she heard a knock at the door to her second-story walk-up apartment. She hadn’t heard the telltale creaking on the metal outdoor stairs, but then again—her head been stuck in her closet for a while. And, he was a fucking ninja.

“Is it unlocked?”

She let out an uncomfortable laugh. “You must be kidding. This is LA.”

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