Page 5 of Fake Engagement Arrangement (Wilde Billionaire Brothers #1)

‘But surely me suddenly turning up would be a terrible shock for him, wouldn’t it?’ Mollie had to be so careful with her words, so careful not to compromise the rules his grandfather had set down.

Jago gave a dismissive shrug of one broad shoulder.

‘As I said before, he’s not my primary concern right now, my grandmother is.

She will be delighted to see you.’ His eyes hardened a fraction, and he continued.

‘She was heartbroken when our wedding was cancelled. I suspect that’s why she doesn’t remember it since her concussion—it was too painful for her. ’

Mollie could feel the heat pooling in her cheeks and looked back down at the ring in the palm of her hand. It seemed to sit there mocking her with its glittering diamond eyes so like its giver. Daring her to put it on.

Come on. Do it. You know you want to .

She did want to, which was deeply troubling.

She would be entering enemy territory, but she didn’t know what Jago’s grandfather would do.

Would he accept her presence for the sake of his elderly and frail wife?

Surely, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to expose her past to Jago?

But what about the AI-generated images? Maxwell had promised the images of her would go away, and since then two years had passed and she had begun to feel a tenuous sense of safety.

He had stayed true to his word, so what would happen if she didn’t keep her end of the deal?

Maxwell had paid for her silence. He had paid her to go away.

He had paid the blackmailer… She frowned and looked at the ring again, her thoughts spinning like clothes in a tumble dryer.

Blackmailers didn’t usually go away. They usually wanted more money once the first ransom was paid.

They upped the ante, bleeding their victim to breaking point.

How had Maxwell Wilde got rid of them with a single payment?

Or had he paid them more than he said? If so, it was even more brazen of her to reappear in his grandson’s life.

Mollie knew Jago wasn’t close to his grandfather, but she also knew that blood was thicker than water and Wilde blood thicker than most because of their enormous wealth.

Jago might well believe his grandfather over her version of events, and given how many lies she had told in the past, she could hardly blame him.

She hadn’t seen Jago the day she jilted him.

He had been on his way back from New York, which made her look even more of a gold-digger for not having the decency to end their relationship in person.

But Maxwell had insisted she leave before Jago got back.

He had said it would be easier on everyone if she left, especially as the extortionist was threatening to make those wretched images go viral if the ransom wasn’t paid within twelve hours.

That looming deadline had made it impossible for Mollie to think things through with any sense of rationality.

She had become almost like an automaton, a mindless puppet, doing everything Maxwell Wilde insisted she do.

It made sense to her in her distressed and overwrought state to take up Maxwell’s offer.

It was an escape hatch she desperately needed.

The money was not the only reason she left, although it was a part of it.

A big part of it. She didn’t want to bring shame on the man she loved.

She didn’t want to taint Jago with the dramas and traumas of her past. And she wanted to protect her brother who had no one else batting for him, believing in him that he could, with the right help, make something of his life before it was too late.

‘Are you waiting for me to get down on bended knee or something?’ Jago’s voice had a note of mockery in it that stung like a slap.

Mollie flicked her gaze to his, doing everything in her power to keep her expression cool and composed. ‘Do you really think I’d be such a fool to accept a second time?’

A flash of incendiary heat lit Jago’s gaze, and his mouth thinned. ‘Who knows what you’d do if you could work it to your advantage? Why are you working in that clinic? I thought your dream was to set up your own luxury spa?’

Mollie had to control every muscle in her face so he didn’t see how affected she was by the mention of her failed dream.

She had fought so hard for so long, worked punishingly long hours and taken numerous courses to get the qualifications she needed to run her own day spa.

But because of her brother’s constant draining of her resources, she had been like Sisyphus pushing the ball up a steep hill, only to get within sight of the top for it to come rolling back down again, crushing her hopes and dreams. ‘I still intend to open my own spa. It’s taking a little longer than I planned, but I will hopefully get there in the end. ’

Jago kept his gaze trained on hers. ‘If you accept my offer, you can do it sooner rather than later.’

Mollie had already done the numbers in her head.

With the amount Jago was offering, she could open her own spa and get Eliot the help he needed.

She could achieve her life’s dream, but by pretending to be engaged to Jago Wilde, she would have to live her worst nightmare.

‘I need more time to think about this. It’s a big decision and—’

‘I want your answer now.’ The implacable edge in his tone reminded her she was the one with the most at stake.

She wasn’t in the position to bargain, to draw things out, to delay or stall to get time to measure the risks.

Jago wanted a commitment now, and she would have to give it to him or lose this chance, this only chance, to save Eliot.

Mollie ran the tip of her tongue over the parched terrain of her lips.

The supposed engagement ring she was holding in her palm was digging into her skin.

Her stomach was churning with nerves, with dread, but also with a strange sense of excitement.

The electric energy Jago generated in her made her think of how his hands had touched her, how his mouth had kissed her, how his body had entered her and taken her to paradise time and time again.

He was paying an exorbitant sum for her to pretend for the weekend of his grandmother’s birthday, but would he expect more?

Dare she ask what his intentions were? They would be in close contact, pretending to be the lovers they once were.

How tempting would it be to slip into his arms, to reach for him, to consent to his earth-shattering lovemaking?

Too tempting. Outrageously tempting. Every fibre of her being would have to fight the instinct, the raw and earthy drive to crush her mouth to his, to feel the sexy stroke of his tongue against hers, to wind her arms around his trim waist and pull his hardness against her softness.

Thinking about it created a tumult of need in her lower body, her feminine core moistening with greedy want for the hard presence of his.

Jago’s dark blue gaze glinted, and his sensual mouth lifted at the edges in a mercurial smile as if he was reading her mind as easily as reading an X-ray. ‘If you’re finding the prospect of sharing my room a little distasteful, let me assure you I will not lay a finger on you.’

Mollie swallowed a gasp of raw hurt that he no longer wanted her.

Disappointment washed through her like a poison, making her fingertips fizz and her heart contract.

But what else did she expect? She had jilted him the day before their wedding.

She had not even explained why she had done it—she had left that to his grandfather.

Jago no longer desired her; he now hated her and was intent on punishing her by making her play by his rules.

She wanted to reject his offer.

She wanted to stand up and throw her glass of water in his too handsome face.

She wanted to fist her hand in his crisp white shirt and pull his head down to press her mouth on his sensual one.

To ignite the fire that was still smouldering between them.

Flickers and flares of lust licked across her skin, blood pulsed and pounded in her feminine core, molten heat travelled to all her secret places simply by being in Jago Wilde’s presence.

Mollie wanted him, and worst of all, she suspected he knew it.

Mollie decided to act like the gold-digger he believed her to be.

It was born out of a perverse desire to retaliate, to hurt him as he had hurt her.

She knew it was petty and immature of her, but she needed to shift the balance of power.

For the sake of her pride, she couldn’t allow him to toy with her like a string puppet, making her dance to whatever tune he chose to play.

She would make him perform for her. And she knew exactly how to do it.

She knew her sensual power for he had awakened it in her, and it had bloomed and blossomed and blistered into an inferno.

The heat between them still sparked in the atmosphere.

She could see it reflected in the midnight blue of his gaze, could sense the tension in his toned body, could feel it thrumming in her own.

A primitive beat of need that had not gone away in spite of her jilting him.

He might say he wasn’t interested in sleeping with her, but she knew his body.

She knew the signs. She knew his taste, his touch, his smell, his wild and passionate need.

Mollie smiled to herself and crossed one slim leg over the other, holding his gaze without flinching. She would enjoy every moment of bringing Jago Wilde to his knees.

‘All right, I accept your offer,’ Mollie said.

If Jago was relieved she’d finally agreed to his plan, he didn’t show any sign of it on his aristocratic features.