From Friend To Fake Fiancé

She shook her head and took another step back, hitting the wall by the front door. “Sex implies...”

He quirked a brow. “Lust, desire, passion? I’m willing to admit you’re hot and any man would be lucky to have you in his bed.”

She put her hands on his chest. When she didn’t push him away, he reached out, curling his fingers around her bare shoulders.

“Don’t,” she warned. “We’re not sleeping together. We’re not doing anything but pretending to be lovers. After this week, my family will think we just decided to stay friends. That’s all. I can’t do more and if you’re honest with yourself, you can’t, either.”

Oh, he could do plenty more. Starting with peeling that dress from her curvy body. But he wouldn’t push her. She was already feeling stressed and recovering from the betrayal of her asshat ex. The last thing she needed was for her best friend to force her into anything. But that didn’t mean he would stop his attempts to get her into his bed. For years he’d wondered how it would feel to have his best friend in every way possible and now he had this week to seduce her. Bora Bora provided the perfect backdrop for temptation, with its sultry nights and lazy days on the beach. Seducing Jenna would be so easy, so perfect. Before these seven days were up, he’d know exactly how amazing they were together.

But Mac didn’t want her to feel forced, to feel pressured. He wanted her willing and aching for him. He wanted her to admit that the attraction was mutual. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind she wanted him. She may be lying to herself, but her actions spoke volumes.

Stroking his thumbs along her delicate skin, Mac bent slightly to hold her gaze. “I’m not putting any pressure on you. You’ve got enough going on now.”

Beneath his palms, her shoulders relaxed. “I still have all those flowers to do and Amy has changed her mind about the arrangements twice already. My ex will be showing up any day and I’m exhausted from my mother’s questions. If you add more stress on me, I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”

Laughing, Mac pulled her in and wrapped his arms around her. She literally fell against his chest as if the fight had gone out of her. This would be the perfect opportunity to seduce her...if he wanted to be a complete, uncaring jerk. He’d already planted the seed. She knew exactly what he wanted. Now he had to let his actions speak louder than his words. Not a problem at all. In his line of work, actions always got the job done.

“Why don’t you go out on the deck and relax?” he suggested, rubbing his hand up and down her back. “I’ll bring you some tea. I’m sure you packed an assortment.”

Jenna wasn’t a drinker, not of alcohol, anyway. Her mother had once battled alcoholism, but had been clean for the past several years. So, while booze was off the table for Jenna, Mac knew the girl never went out of town without her tea collection. It was one thing she took quite seriously. No doubt she’d brought the antique tin that he’d gotten her for Christmas several years back. She’d seen the piece before an auction and had coveted the item, so Mac had anonymously placed the bids and gotten it for her as a surprise.

Nearly all bidding was anonymous.... But in this instance, he’d simply done something for his best friend, not for a billionaire client or the good of the family business.

Jenna pulled away and offered him a tired smile. “You’re too good to me.”

“I’ll let you return the favor one day when I need you to pretend to be my fiancée,” he joked. “Do you want a particular flavor?”

He watched the sway of her hips as she walked away. “Surprise me.”

Mac laughed. She’d better watch what she asked for. Because by the end of this week, she’d be surprised all right. Seduction would never taste sweeter.

This might be the only chance to be this close to her, at her invitation. He planned to take full advantage of this week posing as her boyfriend. This was the exact opportunity he needed to get closer, by her invitation. He planned on playing his role flawlessly every minute of the next seven days.

* * *

Jenna crossed her ankles and stared out at the sparkling water just beyond her deck. With bright blue skies, the sun just on the horizon and her best friend brewing her tea, Jenna should be the most relaxed woman in the world.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t relax when her lips were still tingling, her body was still aching and her mind was still reeling from her best friend’s bombshell admission that he wanted to sleep with her.

She hadn’t seen that coming. Yes, he’d tried to pick her up with some overly cheesy line many years ago, but Mac was a professional flirt. And they’d agreed not to take things in that direction back then. She’d told him she only wanted long term and she knew he couldn’t offer permanence. No way would she make herself vulnerable when she knew nothing serious could come of her attraction to Mac.

But the way he’d kissed her, held her and stared into her eyes when he delivered that shocking blow...this man wasn’t joking anymore. He was full-on trying to get her into his bed, and if she wasn’t careful that’s exactly where she’d find herself. Talk about an awkward morning after, and she just couldn’t risk their friendship.

Stretching her arms out, she clasped her fingers behind her head. She really needn’t get too worked up, though. Mac loved women and women, understandably, loved Mac. He had charm, power, a killer body and a smile that could melt the clothes right off your body.

But she had to remind herself the proposition had nothing to do with her personally. Mac was a world-renowned playboy. He’d earned his reputation by his actions over the years and Jenna wasn’t naive. She’d seen firsthand what a damaging relationship could do. Granted, her parent’s situation was much different, but her mother had still been crushed, destroyed and ultimately had turned to the bottle when Jenna’s father walked out. Jenna didn’t think she’d ever be dependent on alcohol, but she was vulnerable to the same emotional damage her mother had suffered. Jenna knew if she allowed herself to be intimate with Mac two things would happen: she would love every single erotic moment, and he’d leave her wanting more as he walked away. She refused to be dependent on her feelings, to let her emotions lead her common sense around on a leash. Jenna had to keep a level head about this and remember everything going on here was all for show.

So, while her lips may still be tingling from their earlier encounter, she had to ignore the urge to take what he so eagerly offered.

Mac’s heavy footsteps hit the wood deck. “Here you go.”

After handing her a glass of iced tea, peach she guessed from the scent, he walked to the edge of the deck and took a seat. With the huts and decks built right on the water, his feet rested in the crystal-clear ocean. His black T-shirt pulled across his broad shoulders. His dark, unruly hair curled just slightly on the ends. Jenna didn’t care that she was checking out her best friend. She’d done it for years, and the older he got, the sexier Mac O’Shea became. This combination ocean/hottie view was definitely one she would be enjoying all week.

“So, tell me what’s on the agenda for tomorrow.” He threw a glance over his shoulder, offering her an evil, lopsided grin. “Kissing on the beach, you unable to keep your hands off me, frolicking in the ocean?”

Jenna took a hearty drink of her iced tea and rolled her eyes. “I think we’ll stick with hand holding, a few hugs and some lingering glances. Can you handle that?”

With a shrug, he turned back to the ocean. “I can handle anything. I’m in Bora Bora with my best friend and I have everything under control with the upcoming auction. I could use a few days to rest up, even if I’m pretending to be in love.”

A sliver of guilt started to course through her. “I know I’m putting you in a weird position, so if you want to back out, do it now before we get too far.”

Mac turned, rested his back against one of the posts and drew one knee up as he met her gaze. “Jenna, I came here for you. If you need me to hold your hand, literally, to get through this next week, that’s what I’m going to do. Stop worrying about my feelings or whatever else is going through that head of yours.”

She sat up in her lounge chair and swiveled her legs to the side. Clutching her glass, she watched the drops of condensation slide down it, disappearing beneath the pads of her fingers. Worry gnawed at her and she knew she could be totally honest with Mac about her deepest concern.

“I don’t want things to get awkward between us.”

“Then stop analyzing it to death,” he commanded. “We’ll be fine. The ex will think you’ve moved on, your sister’s wedding will be over and done, and you’ll be back in Miami by next week.”

In theory everything sounded so perfect and easy. Reality always had other plans, though.

Jenna took another drink before looking over to Mac, who was still staring at her. “Do you want something to eat? The resort actually stocked our kitchen. I don’t even want to know what Amy paid for all of this.”

Mac shook his head. “Nah. I was joking earlier. I’m too tired to eat, anyway. That whirlwind trip to Barcelona wiped me out.”

“I’m sure the lovely Lolita you left behind with a smile would take that as a compliment.”

Mac pulled his other foot from the water and hopped to his feet. “Lolita was nowhere to be found,” he retorted as he took a seat beside her on the lounge chair. “The trip was all business. I didn’t see one naked woman the entire time.”

Gasping, Jenna mocked him. “No wonder you’re so cranky. And here I’m putting a damper on your social life because you have to pretend to be taken.”

“We don’t have to pretend,” he replied with raised brows. “Say the word and we’ll make use of this lounge chair.”

Jenna sprang to her feet and headed toward the open doorway. “Chill out, stud. I have enough to handle without feeding your overactive hormones.”

Mac followed her into the hut. Jenna rinsed her empty glass and just as she went to set it on the counter, it slipped from her hands and shattered all over the ceramic tile.

Cursing beneath her breath, she glanced down, trying to figure out how to get out of the mess without cutting her bare feet.

“Don’t move.”

Mac stepped carefully around the shards and seconds later lifted her into his arms.

“Put me down. I’m heavy.”

Halting his steps, Mac met her gaze, his face mere inches above hers. “You’re not heavy, Jenna. You’re perfect. I won’t want to hear that from your mouth again.”

Closing her eyes, praying for the humiliation to pass, Jenna sighed. “Just put me down. I’ll put some shoes on and get this mess cleaned up.”

“I can get it.”

“You’re going to cut yourself,” she argued, though the point was moot now.

“Better me than you.”

He placed her on the sofa and stood back, his hands on his hips, his narrowed eyes daring her to argue. Jenna held her hands up in defeat. She wasn’t fighting with him. She chose her battles wisely. Besides, she had to admit she rather liked this whole knight-to-her-rescue thing.

Moments later, once the glass was all discarded and he’d swept the floor thoroughly, Mac returned and sat on the table in front of the sofa. Straddling her legs, he reached down and placed one of her feet on his leg. When he started to examine her, she pulled her foot away.

“I’m fine. I wasn’t cut.”

“You’re sure?”

Jenna snorted. “I think I’d know, Mac. Calm down. Were you cut?”

He merely shrugged. The man was infuriating at times.

“You know, you could’ve called someone to come clean that up.”

Shaking his head, he replied, “By the time someone came, I would’ve been done. It’s not a big deal.”

Mac O’Shea might have been a billionaire, he might have been a mysterious, powerful man, but he wasn’t lazy. He worked hard and always remembered that just because someone had money didn’t make them better than anyone else. His father had instilled that value in all of the kids, and Jenna admired Mac and his siblings for being so conscious of other people’s feelings...unless those people crossed the line. Then the O’Sheas left no room for negotiation, if the rumors were correct. Still, overall they were good people. She knew about the charities they silently donated to. She’d overheard Mac talking on the phone once to Laney, his sister, but Jenna hadn’t said a word. She was proud the family didn’t boast about the fact they shared their wealth. That’s what giving was all about.

The sun had sunk lower, sending a soft glow into the hut through the wide opening leading to the deck. Fatigue was starting to take over and she was running out of steam. She needed to rest up if she was going to pull off this charade for the next seven days. Who knew when Martin would arrive, and she wanted to be ready.

“I’ll sleep here on the sofa,” she told Mac. “Actually, I’m so tired, I think I could pass out on that hammock out on the deck.”

Mac simply shook his head. “You’re sleeping in the bed and so am I. We’re adults, Jenna. We’ve been friends for years.”

Yeah, well, she’d never lain next to her best friend and attempted to sleep after he kissed her as if he needed her more than air. How could she sleep if his hard body brushed against hers in the middle of the night? What if she rolled over and her parts touched his parts? Because then a new level of awkward would settle in and that was the last thing she wanted.

“Whatever you’re worried about, stop.” His demand was loud and clear. “Go to bed. I’ll be in later.”

Yeah, that’s precisely what she worried about.

Three

“We may have found something.”

Mac sat up straighter and glanced toward the closed bedroom door where Jenna had disappeared over an hour ago.

“The scrolls?” he asked his associate Ryker in a hushed tone. But Ryker was so much more than an associate. He was a brother, a friend, an enforcer. He might not share the same blood, but he was practically family.

And he’d found information on the infamous scrolls. The nine pieces of family heritage they’d been chasing for decades. Their ancestor was an Irish monk who’d been chosen to transcribe Shakespeare’s early works. The scrolls were invaluable...and still missing. They’d been in the O’Shea family up until they’d lost everything in the Great Depression, then they’d vanished.

Under the direction of their father, they’d followed countless leads. Once Patrick had passed and Braden had taken control, he’d gone to the point of origin at an old estate in Boston that used to be owned by the O’Sheas. The scrolls were last known to be there, yet his family was still on a damn wild goose chase. Granted, had he not gone to the starting point, Braden never would’ve met Zara, the love of his life. Zara now owned the home which used to be in their family. Even she had searched her home, but nothing had turned up.

Mac, his brother Braden and their sister Laney were ready to fulfill their late father’s request and find these missing heirlooms, but so far they’d had no luck. Ryker, the go-to guy who was more like a brother than an employee, had proved himself to be relentless in finding the scrolls, in fulfilling a dying man’s wish—no matter where in the world he had to follow the trail.

“I’m actually boarding the jet now,” Ryker stated. “I’ll be heading to Chicago on a tip from McCormick’s.”

McCormick’s. If the O’Sheas worried about rivals, McCormick’s would be top of the list. But, Mac’s family had been in the industry much longer and had far longer reaches into that world...both political and civilian. That, coupled with everything they had going on behind the scenes, definitely made them the most sought-out auction house in the world. They could get the job done, fly under the legal radar and have transactions completed quickly and efficiently. Their clients never knew the details of how things were handled, they only knew O’Shea’s was discreet and got things done.

“Is this tip from a reliable source?” Mac asked.

“Reliable enough,” Ryker said. “I’ll keep you posted, but Braden was busy at some event with Zara and they couldn’t be bothered, so I had to act fast. Where are you, anyway? Still in Barcelona?”

Mac came to his feet and glanced out the open doorway toward the inky water, shimmering only slightly from the moon peeking from behind the clouds. Bora Bora was one of the most beautiful places on the planet...it was also one of the most romantic. Not that he did the whole candlelight-on-the-beach kind of thing. He was more of a slam the bedroom door with his foot as he plastered a willing woman against the wall and claimed her type of guy.

“I’m in Bora Bora with Jenna. She had a family emergency.” Sort of. “I’ll be home in a week, but let me know as soon as you discover anything, no matter how minor.”

“Will do.”

Mac disconnected the call and gripped his cell in his hand. Every time there was another lead, he got anxious. After years of letdowns, Mac knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but all of this searching had to pay off at some point, didn’t it? Because none of them would stop until these scrolls were found. Unfortunately, Patrick O’Shea had passed before he could fulfill that vow. The heart attack that claimed his father was sudden. He’d gone in for surgery, knowing there was a risk, but it was his only option for survival. They’d lost him on the table.

Mac didn’t know if he’d ever get used to the idea of his father not being around. Then again, he didn’t want to get used to the loss. He wanted to remember his father for the powerful, loving family man he was. He may have been a hard-ass outside his inner circle, he may have had more blood on his hands than a corrupt politician, but Patrick O’Shea was loyal to those close to him. Mac missed that man every minute of every day and would continue to honor his father’s legacy and work with his siblings to make the O’Shea name as reputable as ever.

With his mind spinning in so many directions, Mac was too wound up to go to bed. Well, he was too wound up to sleep. Getting between the sheets with Jenna right now wouldn’t be wise. He wanted her so damn bad, with a fierceness he’d not allowed himself to feel before. She wasn’t ready, though.

His priority for the next few days was to make Jenna smile, to make her life worry-free and to get her to see just how easy it would be to be intimate and still be friends. He wasn’t looking for a lifetime commitment; they were already best friends and that was about as close to someone as he was willing to get.

Given the family business, he was used to keeping certain things close to his chest. He didn’t want to get too involved with anyone because he doubted there was a woman in the world who would put up with his lies. And he would lie to Jenna—he had lied to her. He had no choice with his lifestyle, and he wasn’t about to apologize for it.

He’d been born an O’Shea, born into a world that was glamorous, powerful and, more often than not, deceitful. He was proud of his name, dirty rumors be damned. Because, overall, the name O’Shea brought prestige and power. No one questioned them to their faces. And Mac would stop at nothing to help fulfill his father’s dying wish in getting back the scrolls. At all costs. They’d been missing long enough and he wanted to be the one to bring them back to their rightful place.

Turning back around, Mac eyed the bedroom door once again. Was she asleep? Was she tossing and turning? Was she fantasizing about the offer he’d given? One way to find out. Stripping off his shirt, Mac tossed it to the sofa and padded toward the bedroom. No matter what she was doing, Mac was going in. He wasn’t tired, but there was no sense in delaying the inevitable. A smile spread across his face as he unbuttoned his shorts, slid the zipper down and let them fall to the floor. He stepped out of them and slowly turned the knob.

Wearing only his black boxer briefs, Mac entered the darkened room, took in the curvy shape beneath the sheet and headed to the other side of the bed. After flipping his phone to silent, he placed it on the bedside table and sank onto the edge of the bed.

Behind him the sheets rustled and Mac had a hard time not letting his imagination run away with him. He’d never had a sleepover with Jenna before. Oh, she’d fallen asleep during a movie several times when he visited her or she came to his place. But Mac had never spent the night with her and she certainly hadn’t been planning on him sleeping in her room, so had she packed adequate pajamas? Did she sleep in the nude? All those lush curves, begging to be touched...

Mac eased back onto his pillow, crossed his ankles, laced his hands over his bare abdomen and stared up at the ceiling. The blades of the fan whirled in a slow, steady circle, giving off just enough of a light breeze to make the sheer curtains billow in front of the open window. The perfect setting for relaxation. For seduction. If this were any other woman, Mac wouldn’t put forth so much effort, but he knew full well that being with Jenna would be worth the wait and definitely worth the exercise in self-control.

A soft moan filled the silence of the room as Jenna shifted beneath the sheet again. Apparently she had fallen asleep, but she was restless. Good. Selfishly, he wanted her to be on edge, to be aching because he sure as hell was lying here in a state of...well, he couldn’t quite put the proper term to it.

Another moan escaped Jenna, this one louder, longer. Mac clenched his fists at his side. She was dreaming. His ego liked to think she was dreaming of him, of his proposition. The thought of her with another man irritated him, but he had no permanent claim on Jenna. Wanting intimacy with someone was completely different than wanting a happily-ever-after.

His eyes adjusted even more to the darkened room as he rolled over to watch her. A sheen of sweat covered her face; her lips were parted just enough to be even sexier than usual. The sheet slid down as she shifted again. What the hell was she wearing? Was that...yeah, she was wearing some type of maxi dress. Why?

Mac eased the sheet the rest of the way down her body. No wonder she was sweating. As soon as that layer was off, he stood and reached for the fan control, to kick it up on high. When he turned back to the bed, that long dress had ridden up on Jenna’s thighs. Mercy, the woman was killing him.

He knew she was insecure about her body. They’d never talked about it because he wouldn’t give that negativity any attention. To him, Jenna was absolutely perfect. He didn’t want her to believe her shape defined her. There had to be some way to make her see herself the way he did. To realize that she was a voluptuous, stunning siren and she was valuable to anyone who took the time to appreciate her.

Jenna rolled to her side, facing him. Mac watched the swell of her breast threaten to move over the boundary of the scoop neck of the dress. A tan line ran up around her neck—he resisted the urge to run his finger along the pale skin.

That damn kiss had completely messed with his mind. While he’d always found her sexy as hell, now that he’d fully tasted her, he could think of nothing but tasting her again. For years he’d thrown out one sexual innuendo after another, but he wasn’t kidding any longer. That kiss had changed something in him and as soon as he knocked her guard down and made her his, he could eradicate her from his system and they could circle back to this friendship thing.

Before he could roll away, her lids fluttered open, her eyes locking on to his. She blinked as she licked her lips, her hand moving up to adjust the top of her dress.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked, her voice husky.

“You were dreaming.” He wasn’t about to answer her question. “And moaning.”

Her eyes widened, then closed briefly before she met his gaze once again. “Did I wake you up?”

Mac shifted on his side more, propping his elbow on the pillow, his head in his hand. “I just came in here. You’re sweating and wearing a dress to bed. Care to tell me why?”