One weekend—no strings, no expectations, and no commitments. On Sunday afternoon it all ends, or does it?
No-nonsense businessman Spencer Cannon has a dilemma. He’s headed to Connecticut for the weekend to attend his cousin’s elaborate wedding. His whole family will be there in addition to his obsessed ex-girlfriend Ava. According to Spencer’s brother, Ava has been telling her friends she’s planning a magical reunion with her favorite ex-boyfriend. Spencer’s not in the mood to deal with her, but he can’t miss the wedding. He needs a plan.
Struggling Brooklyn waitress and aspiring graphic designer Dakota Vercelli has fallen on hard times. College debts, pending eviction, and her sick mother are taking a toll on her. A chance encounter with Mr. Cannon, CEO of Cannon and Carrington Advertising, leads to a proposition that may be just the thing to solve both of their problems. Spencer’s offer—spend four days with him during the wedding festivities and keep his ex off his trail. In return, he’ll compensate her generously for her time. He needs a weekend girlfriend, and Dakota needs the cash.
It was just supposed to be a business deal, but after sharing a room, kissing under the stars, and attending a wedding, their attraction is undeniable. Will the illusion end when the weekend is over or is the proposition just the beginning?
Content Warning: contains mature language and graphic sexual content
“I have a proposition for you.”
“A proposition?” What could he possibly have to offer her?
“I have to attend my cousin’s wedding this weekend. Actually, I have to leave tomorrow afternoon. I don’t want to go alone for reasons I don’t wish to discuss right now. I need someone to accompany me. I’m offering that to you.”
“And you think I’m ‘to the point’?”
He smiled but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t stand the silence. She wanted to figure out his game. There had to be some sort of catch.
“You want me to go to a wedding with you?”
“It’s in Connecticut. I would require your services until Sunday afternoon. All of your expenses would be paid, including a wardrobe which would be yours to keep after the weekend.”
“You need a date?”
“I would need you to appear as my girlfriend.”
“Is this a joke?”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this. I’ve thought the entire thing through.”
“A man who looks like you should have no problem finding a real girlfriend to buy clothes for and flaunt in front of his family.” She thought for a moment. “Unless there’s something wrong with you.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.” He raised his voice a bit. “I had planned on attending alone but circumstances have changed. I’m in a bind and from what I gather, you are too.”
Her instincts screamed to run in the opposite direction. She’d never been the type to fall for a scam. “I’m not interested in—”
“I’ll pay you two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for your time.”
“What?” Apparently a side of crazy came with those good looks.
“One hundred and twenty-five thousand today, if you agree.” He pulled out a check from the inside pocket of the jacket he had draped on the back of the chair. He slipped the mint green paper across the table. “You’ll get the rest on Sunday afternoon.”
“That’s fifty grand a day.” She studied the check. It would take her years to make that kind of money working these shit-end jobs.
“I’m aware.” He nodded as if the money meant nothing. “I’m asking for your time, a commodity I believe should be well compensated.”
Too good to be true.
“Do you make it a habit of paying women to be your girlfriend?”
“Pretend girlfriend,” he reminded her. “You would be the first.”
“Does it matter?”
“What exactly do you expect me to do for that money?”
“I told you.” He narrowed his eyes. “I need a date for a long weekend. Everyone needs to think we’re a couple.”
“You’re willing to pay me to go away with you for four days. I’m supposed to take your word we’re going to a wedding in Connecticut? How do I know you won’t kidnap me and want to do all sorts of kinky stuff to me? You could be some sex-obsessed lunatic.”
“Yeah, you know, like bondage and blindfolds.”
“Do you like that sort of thing?” He tried to conceal his smirk.
She opened the door and walked into the bathroom as he shaved. His towel hung low off his hips. The whole bathroom smelled of him. It made her insides quiver. When he caught a glimpse of her in the mirror he dropped his razor into the sink.
“You dropped something,” she said as she reached for her makeup bag. “This bathroom is big enough for us to share. You don’t mind, do you?”
“You’re practically naked.” He gawked at her lacey silver bra and matching thong.
“If we were on the beach, you’d see me in my bikini.” She took in his damp skin, mesmerized by the drop of water that trickled down his chest. She watched as it disappeared into the towel just above his...
Stay in control. I need to seduce him.
“We’re not on the beach.” He picked up his razor and rinsed it off under the faucet. “If we were, there is no way in hell I’d allow you wear something like that.”
“Really? You wouldn’t allow me?”
“No.” He growled.
“Why not? Don’t you like the way I look?”
“That’s not the point.” He struggled not to look at her but she saw his gaze make contact with her body in the reflection of the mirror. “I’d have to kill anyone who looked at you.”
“You did pay for this underwear, so I figured you should at least get to see it.”
“That was very kind of you.” He concentrated on shaving.
She applied her makeup, hoping he’d make some kind of move to let her know he was interested in her. He’d admitted it the night before. She had to get him to act on it.
When he finished, he wiped his face with a warm washcloth but missed a spot just under his left earlobe. She shimmied her way in between him and the counter. He looked down at her lips. She used that to her advantage as she slowly ran the tip of her tongue along them.
“Let me help you.” She reached up and swiped her thumb across his jaw and to the small spot of shaving cream he’d left behind. “You missed some.” She held out her thumb to show him
before using his towel to wipe it off. She squeezed his rock hard thigh. “You’re so muscular.”
“What are you doing?” His words were controlled but clipped. “I thought we decided—”
“You decided.” She closed the space between them. “I bet your chest is just as toned as your legs.” She trailed her fingers along his pecs and down to his stomach, tracing each of his well-defined six pack abs during her exploration. The lower she went, the harder his breathing became.
“Stop taunting me.” He lifted her up and sat her on the cool tiled counter, spreading her legs as he stepped in between them.
“Or what?” she challenged him.
“You’ll find out just how aggressive I can be.” He gripped her inner thighs. “But you probably like it rough.”