Kat Cantrell - From Fake to Forever

Something pulled at her heart. Oh, that was not good. That was why she’d never forgotten him—he’d taken a piece of her she’d never meant to give.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, can we start over?” she asked, her voice more tremulous than she would have liked.

Because she’d just realized letting him go in Vegas might have been the biggest mistake of her life.

In spite of it all, a chuckle spilled from Jason’s mouth and reluctantly, he let his arms drop from the siren he’d somehow wound up kissing. He’d come here to wring her neck, but instead, she’d expertly defused his mood.

But that didn’t mean they’d be falling right back into a crazy-town affair, not when so much was at stake. Not when he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her. “Depends on what the definition of starting over is.”

Meredith pursed her kiss-stung lips, and he decided it was better to put a little more distance between them. She was even more dangerous than he’d realized and he refused to follow in his father’s footsteps. Paul had left Bettina for a younger, sexier wife, with no regard to the consequences to his company or his family. Obviously, it was in the Lynhurst blood to let passion rule, but that didn’t have to be Jason’s fate and someone had to step up where his father had failed.

Jason had a vision for putting the pieces of his life back together and no woman would sway him from realizing it. He was stronger than his father.

While he flopped into one of the overstuffed chairs in the sitting area of her hotel room, she crossed to the minibar and pulled two beers from the fridge, flipped off the caps expertly and handed him one.

“I don’t want to be at odds, Jason. You’re upset. I get that. But don’t come in here slinging ultimatums and expect me to fall in line. Let’s do this differently.”

What the hell. He loosened his tie, guzzled a third of the cold dark beer and raised his eyebrows. “Which is how?”

She took the opposite chair and swung it around to face him, settling into it with her beer. Kicking off her heels, she curled her feet under her and propped her chin on her hand. “Talk to me. Like you used to. Tell me what you want in exchange for the divorce. I might volunteer to give it to you, for old times’ sake.”

Like you used to. As if they had history.

But really, didn’t they? Just because it had only been one weekend didn’t make it any less significant, whether he’d like to go back in time and erase it or not.

“What if what I really want is to stay married?”

It wasn’t, but he was in a reckless mood after all his careful plans had unraveled in the course of an afternoon. One kiss wasn’t enough to get him completely over the destruction this woman had caused. Plus, she’d piqued his curiosity about the divorce. Why was it so important to her? There were a lot of women who might find it convenient to be married to someone from a powerful fashion-industry family. The fact that she didn’t intrigued him.

Of course, Meredith had always been one of a kind.

Her genuine smile hit him in the not-yet-cooled lower half, further proving the point. No woman had ever turned him on with simply a grin. Except his wife, apparently.

“You don’t want to stay married any more than I do,” she said. “The fact that you’re threatening me with it tells me you need something very badly. What?”

His return smile shouldn’t have been so easy, but her mind had always been the most attractive thing about her. He might never have left Vegas with a solid idea of how to heal the fractures in his life without her influence. Why not continue the trend?

“Do you remember why I was in Vegas?”

“I remember everything, including that cute birthmark on your butt. Your parents divorced and split up Lynhurst. You were a wreck over it.” She waggled her brows. “Or you were until I distracted you.”

It had happened two years ago. The memories shouldn’t be so sharp, but they were…for both of them, obviously. “You did take care of me, quite well. And vice versa, if I recall.”

“Oh, yeah. That was never in question.” She shut her eyes for a beat and hummed happily under her breath. “Best nineteen orgasms of my life.”

“You kept track?”

She glanced at him from under lowered lashes, her gaze hot and full of appreciation. “Darling, I didn’t have to keep track. Every one of them is burned into my center. Indelibly.”

He let himself drown in memories of her for a moment. None of the barriers he easily employed with other women seemed to have an effect on her anyway. “Yeah. I can see your point.”

The experience was scored across his soul, as well. Meredith had brought out a wild side he hadn’t even realized existed. Or maybe it only existed because of her, which was all the more reason to stay far away.

“Was there a reason you brought that up?” Meredith asked. “We seem to be stuck on it, when I could have sworn you had something else entirely you wanted to chat about.”

He shook his gaze free from the seductive depths of Meredith’s gaze and cleared his throat.

Obviously, he needed to take a cold shower if he hoped to accomplish anything. Whatever power she held over him couldn’t be allowed to interfere with the endgame. “I spent the last two years executing the plan I came up with in Vegas. It’s simple. Reunite Lyn Couture and Hurst House under the Lynhurst Enterprises umbrella and step into the CEO position. Who better to run it than me, right?”

Slinging a shapely leg over the arm of the chair, she tossed back the last of her beer as her skirt rode up to reveal a healthy slice of gorgeous thigh. “Yep. You’ve got CEO written all over you.”

“Meiling was a part of that plan.” A critical part. She was the kind of wife a CEO needed, not the overblown sex goddess in the opposite chair. But he had to work with what he had. “Now that she’s out of the picture, I have to come up with plan B.”

“That’s where I come in.”

He nodded, relieved for some odd reason that she still read him so well. “I don’t want to use the divorce as leverage.”

“But you will.”

Transparency meant she saw the not-so-nice-guy parts, as well, and that made him a little uncomfortable. He shrugged. “This is my legacy. I cannot fathom veering from the course I’ve laid out and that means I have to improvise if I want to fix the rift in my family’s company. You fill the gap where Meiling’s advantage used to be and I’ll sign the divorce papers.”

Meredith was a loose cannon—prone to dropping projectiles wherever she went. But she had a sharp wit and determination and best of all, she wanted something from him. That was the best combination possible under the circumstances.

“Why don’t you sign them now and I’ll offer to help as a thank-you?” she countered sweetly and that was the opening he’d been waiting for.

He cocked his head. “Why are you so hot for a divorce from a guy you didn’t even know you were married to last week? Am I such a bad catch?”

Her giggle warmed his insides. A lot. Too much.

“I have never thought of you as a fish.”

Which didn’t answer the question at all. He should sign the papers right now and let her go back to Houston. But he couldn’t, and he really didn’t want to examine why it was so important that Meredith help him because he suspected it had too much to do with this nameless draw between them.

And that was a problem. One of many.

But he did need an edge; that much was still true.

If Avery would only drop her bid for CEO, he wouldn’t have to play this game of chicken with Meredith. But Avery would definitely dig in her heels and she was a Lynhurst—that made her a treacherous opponent. He didn’t for a minute underestimate his sister’s vindictiveness or her strategic mind. He’d let her have the CEO position over his dead body. Meredith was his secret advantage and she owed him.