Natalie Anderson

Secret Affairs: The End of Faking It / Her Secret Fling / The Ultimate Risk


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‘Not telling because then you’ll stop doing it.’

      ‘Stop doing what?’ She sighed and gave up, knowing he wasn’t about to spill it. Besides, there was something more important to know. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’

      He went serious again. ‘Yeah, I do.’

      She was absurdly relieved. She’d been a complete fool with the emails and he knew it, but oddly that didn’t matter so long as he believed her when she told the truth.

      He walked around his desk, picked up her hand and ran a light finger over the bruises still marking her wrist. ‘You know I just said that about coming to dinner tonight to wind you up … make up whatever excuse.’ He gave her an ironic glance. ‘You’ve got the experience. Your brother might not know your little giveaway.’

      Penny frowned and pulled her hand free.

      Dinner with Matt. She’d half forgotten it in her need to clear up the confusion with Carter. But now she thought about it, she was dreading it already—the questions, the search for conversation, all the anxiety … She just didn’t want to face it. She’d spent years not facing it.

      Actually maybe it would be a good idea to have someone with her. With extra company she could pre sent the happy façade for the night, no problem. And she really was happy. It was just that she’d added an imaginary gorgeous man to give the picture a fully glossy finish. Companionship without complications—she had enough complications inside already. It had been so long since her last real, short-term gorgeous man, she’d invented one.

      Now she looked at Carter. Handsome, charming, socially expert Carter.

      ‘I think you should come with me,’ she said.

      His brows shot up.

      ‘No, I mean it.’ She stepped in closer to him. ‘Come to dinner. After all, Matt’s expecting you now.’

      His attention dropped to her body and back up. ‘Well, isn’t that your problem for misleading him in the first place?’

      ‘But you played up to it. The least you can do is follow through.’

      Carter leaned back against the edge of his desk, a small smile tweaking his mouth.

      Really, the more Penny thought about it, the better an idea it was. Matt could maybe learn a few things from Carter—social smoothness for one. And Carter would deflect the attention off herself. She didn’t know how well she could maintain the façade on her own. Most importantly, the conversation would stay in safe waters. Matt wouldn’t drag up the past with Carter present.

      ‘I’ve seen you talking with the guys who work here … And the girls.’ Her gaze narrowed. ‘You’re good socially.’

      Too good actually. Every woman looked at him as if he were the biggest honeypot to hit the town in a decade or forty—and they all wanted a taste.

      ‘Is that a compliment? Because the way you’re talking I’m not sure …’ He studied her slyly.

      She couldn’t hold back her smile. He was a charming wretch and he knew it.

      ‘Come to dinner with me,’ she leant forward to whisper. ‘Be my pretend man.’

      Carter’s blood was still burning from the horror of seeing her dance with someone else last night. He wasn’t a hypocrite—he didn’t expect women to have less experience than him, but the thought of her being in bed with another guy had made his stomach acid boil. The foreign jealousy rotted him from the inside out and he badly needed to ditch it. He’d spent all night awake wondering if she’d taken William home. And despite his vow to forget her, when he’d seen her in Reception this afternoon the urge had hit. He’d had to touch and find out—something, anything—like an animal scenting out a threat. So completely caveman and so unlike his usual carefree style.

      And now, now the relief in knowing she hadn’t was making him positively giddy, because here he was about to say yes to the most stupid suggestion he’d heard in ages. But he was too intrigued not to. ‘Why did you make him up?’

      Her gaze dropped. ‘I wanted everyone back home to think I’m happy.’

      Was she not happy? ‘And you have to have a boyfriend to prove that?’

      ‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I have a great life—great job, I travel lots. But the man was the icing for them. I know they worry I’m lonely.’

      Which she wasn’t, of course. She had thousands of adoring suitors. She could have a man every night of the week if she wanted. But it was interesting that she didn’t want that. It was interesting that she wanted to kiss him.

      ‘So you want me to be the icing?’ he croaked. Because if that meant she’d use her tongue on him, he was so happy to oblige. She tossed her head back. ‘It’s what we’re all supposed to want, isn’t it? Someone who cares, who holds you, who’s there for you. Companionship, commitment. Happy ever after. That whole cliché.’

      She thought wanting a life partner was a cliché? Hell, where had she been all this time? Because he didn’t want a life partner either. He just wanted some uncomplicated fun. ‘But that’s not what you actually want for yourself?’

      He could see the goose bumps on her arms as she recoiled. She really only wanted a lover for a night or two? That was fine by him—although he might have to push for a few nights. ‘So what did you tell them about your man?’

      ‘I never named him, always kept everything very vague.’

      ‘How long have you been mentioning him?’

      ‘Only in the last couple of months. They’ve been putting on the pressure for me to visit home and he was my excuse for saying no. Because we’ve been doing lots of little trips away.’

      She didn’t want to visit home? ‘How long since you’ve been back?’

      She looked away. ‘A few years. I’ve been travelling a lot.’

      But there were thousands of planes crossing the globe daily. She could go to New Zealand for a visit and be back the same day. It was obvious there was more she wasn’t saying. Did he really want to know what it was?

      Actually he was a little curious. But clearly she didn’t want to share and he respected her for that. Better than getting a massive ‘emo and drama’ dump as his ex had always done. But even so, he couldn’t let it go completely.

      ‘I still don’t really see why you had to make up a whole relationship,’ he said. ‘And why you want me with you so badly tonight.’

      She froze. Carter’s radar screamed louder. She was totally hiding something. And he was only human. So he waited, making her reply by pure expectation.

      ‘The truth is I was one of those fat wallflowers as a teen.’ Her head bowed as she mumbled.

      Carter gritted his teeth to stop his jaw falling open.

      ‘Overweight, acne, rubbish clothes.’ She turned away from him. ‘Total pizza face. The worst you can imagine.’

      Her self-scathing tone rubbed him raw, making him feel an emotion he couldn’t quite define. And he couldn’t imagine actually. She had the smoothest skin—not a single scar marked her flawless features—and she was so slim—borderline too thin with a tiny waist and tiny wrists and tiny ankles. But she still had some curves that made his blood thicken.

      ‘I wanted to be a whole new me—fit body, jet-set life, great job, gorgeous guy.’

      He sighed and reached out to stop those curves escaping from him altogether. So she wanted to look good with a suitable male accessory. He should not be flattered about being a good enough accessory for her. That should not be pleasing him the sick way it was. But he couldn’t help feeling for her. No wonder she was always so beautifully finished—the taunts of teenage years had obviously gone deep. But didn’t everyone have scars from those