Julia James - Indecent Arrangements

She led the way, their quiet tread upon the stairs screaming volumes in the silence. Finally, reaching the landing, she closed her eyes and took a bracing breath. Opened them and turned to Nate. He stood, hands in his pockets, one shoulder propped against the wall.

“Don’t worry. I’m not coming in.”

“What? I wasn’t—”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “Yeah, I think you were.”

Her lips parted in protest, but quickly closed again.

He took a deep breath and shifted his weight, glancing down the empty stairwell. “We were together last night, Payton. It’s a safe bet we’re looking at more than twelve hours to kick whatever residual attraction there is between us back into something safe and platonic. Look, I know what happened between us was different for you. And for what it’s worth, it was different for me, too. So maybe we shouldn’t worry about a few rogue emotions or whatever we’ve got going on. If we give it some time the attraction’ll die off.”

She wanted to believe him. Only she knew from experience that some attractions had staying power for years. “What if it doesn’t?”

His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Well, then, I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

She shook her head. She needed this. “I want us to be friends.”

“Yeah.” He let out a low chuckle as if somehow surprised to find it so. “I do, too. Now get inside before I back you in there myself and ruin this whole buddy-buddy plan we’ve got going on. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

GLASSES clinked, laughter rose and the poignant melody of “Unforgettable” wound around her like a soothing embrace. Inspired by the classic song and its apt description of her past week, Payton swayed with each step on her way to the bar. She could feel the looks. Sense the questions multiplying around her. Heard one woman’s sharp, “What?” rise above the din.

She’d been identified—through process of elimination and then conspicuous absence—as Nate’s bridesmaid from the back hall, and word had been spreading like whispered wildfire for days. Already she’d faced the most brazen of her social set, descending upon her arrival with horrified expressions and ghastly rumors.

Of course they wouldn’t believe such nonsense about Payton, but she deserved to know what people were saying…

She responded with the appropriate denials and a flicker of nerves to feed suspicions, then beat a hasty exit, not trusting herself to fight the obnoxious grin threatening to take over her face. Now all she had to do was follow the plan, drop enough subtle hints with Nate to confirm what her reputation was leading people to reject—and Nate’s secret would be safe, buried beneath the rubble of Perfect Payton’s good-girl reputation.

“What’ll you have, miss?”

The bar was stocked with all the top-shelf labels and an assortment of excellent vintages including a nice Italian white she kept at home. “The Pinot, please.”

A glass was in her hand within seconds and, moving to a quiet corner a few feet off, she sipped, her mind bent to the task of fueling the frenzy of gossip already buzzing around her. The wine was cool and refreshing with a hint of fruity sweetness. A perfect complement to the spice of scandal.

Only then a nervous sense of anticipation swirled through her belly, spreading out until it licked over her skin.

Nate.

Lifting her gaze, she found him in an instant, dressed in an immaculately cut white dinner jacket, exchanging greetings with the owner of a bank a few feet from the main entrance. A flash of brilliant blue locked on her, held her rapt, inciting a sudden panic at the betraying heat flaring to life from one look alone.

She stood arrested beneath Nate’s considering scrutiny until a feral gleam lit his eyes and the corner of his mouth curved into a dark smile that touched her from clear across the room. Made her shudder.

Not platonic. Not by a long shot. But not for the crowd or the press or protecting a secret either.

What a mess.

She needed his friendship. Was desperate for it. But the pull of this attraction between them was playing with her body and mind, and it hadn’t died off in the slightest.

To go on as friends after a single night together was one thing, but if that single night turned into a string of nights, a week, a month—something finite, because she knew without question Nate wasn’t interested in forever—what would she be left with when it was done?

The press having a field day splashing her face across the rags. Speculating on why she couldn’t hold a man like him. Comparing her to whatever bit of glitz he picked up next. Dredging up Clint and then demanding to know what she’d been thinking.

Who was she kidding?

That was exactly what she’d signed on for the moment she’d given into Nate’s kiss, agreeing to go along with the pretense of this affair. Only in the original scenario, she’d have known in her heart it was all a farce. And as it stood now, she was looking at certain heartbreak… If she gave in.

Her eyes closed as the weight of the moment settled around her.

Nate wanted her. She wanted friendship.

She didn’t stand a chance. Because deep in her heart she wanted way more than that.

Blinking open, she found the tilt to Nate’s lips evened, the brilliant blue of his stare gone flat and focused behind her. Her stomach tensed—

“What the hell’s going on, Payton?” The question came quiet and accusing from the one person she hadn’t considered through all of this.

“Clint.” She spun to face him, heat prickling her cheeks as she faced the man she’d nearly married. Tall, with a lean but healthy build, Clint was typically a well-ordered man. Tucked in. Buttoned down. Only this evening, all of that perfection seemed to have slipped the slightest degree. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight. I thought—”

He cut her off with the wave of a hand. “We finished in New York early so I’m back in town.” Through with the pleasantries, he glared down at her. “Do you know what people are saying?”

She bristled at his tone of affront and the disapproving glint in his eyes. He had no right. They’d ended the relationship six months before and she knew for a fact he hadn’t been sitting home alone that whole time. “People are always saying something. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me, Payton. What they say about you definitely matters to me.”

More to the point, it reflected on him. That was what this was about. What everything was about.

His hands went to his jacket, where he adjusted the hang, checked the button. All the while, his gaze tracked over her head, scanning the room behind her. “What are you even doing with Nate Evans?”

Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. “Nate and I are friends.”

Clint’s eyes narrowed. The lines at his mouth pulling down. “No, you aren’t. Brandt hates him, and in the years we’ve been together I can’t remember you exchanging more than a passing hello.”

She opted to let the answer sit. The seconds ticked past as each waited for the other to back down. It wouldn’t be her.

His chin jerked back, his brow furrowed and he reached for her arm. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m sorry. I should have called you so you didn’t find out this way.”

“What are you trying to prove, Payton?” Anger flashed in his eyes as the grip at her elbow tightened; she winced, trying to pull free. “He’s a player. A predator. The last thing you are to Nate Evans is his friend. Mark my words,” he hissed, “you’re nothing more than a f—”