Page 6 of Fake Engagement Arrangement (Wilde Billionaire Brothers #1)

Mollie tried not to think about how little time she had to get herself prepared.

She wouldn’t only be seeing Elsie again but also Maxwell as well as Jago’s brothers.

They must all hate her by now. How could they not?

She had embarrassed and humiliated their brother.

She was a runaway bride, and even worse, she had accepted a significant sum of money to go away.

She was reasonably sure Maxwell hadn’t told the Wilde brothers the truth about why she had jilted Jago.

Jago hadn’t mentioned anything about the blackmailer and the AI images, so she assumed that was a detail about her deal with his grandfather he was not aware of, and hopefully it would stay that way.

But blackmailers and money deals aside, Jago’s brothers would be as appalled by her cowardly behaviour as she would be if the situation was reversed.

‘Will your brothers be there?’ Mollie asked, glancing at him.

Something moved at the back of Jago’s eyes, a shadow, a flicker, a frozen nanosecond of internal thought before his vision cleared to its cold assessment of her. ‘It will be a small gathering due to the fragile state of my grandmother’s health. Jack will be there, but unfortunately Jonas can’t be.’

‘Oh, why not?’

‘He’s…abroad at present, working on an important project.’ His slight hesitation before he explained his brother’s absence made her sense something wasn’t quite right.

‘But I thought you told me once that Jonas is the closest of all of you to your grandmother? Why wouldn’t he make the time to come and be with her, especially as you said her health is so fragile right now?’

Jago’s expression became masked like curtains closing over a stage.

‘My grandmother will be disappointed, of course, but not offended by him not being there. She understands Jonas’s work takes him abroad for months at a time.

Besides, having you there with me will more than compensate for his absence.

Her dream is to see at least one of her grandsons settled down before she passes. ’

Mollie slid the ring over her finger, eyeing it like she was measuring its worth, but inside she was thinking Can I really do this? Can I act convincingly enough?

‘There’s another thing I need to stipulate,’ Jago said. ‘There is to be no talking to the press. I don’t care how much you’re offered for a tell-all interview, I forbid you to speak to them about our relationship, why it ended and why it’s back on again.’

Mollie arched her eyebrows and lowered her hand to her lap. ‘But it isn’t back on again, is it? We’re just pretending. Or do have plans to seduce me to get back at me for jilting you?’

A devilish glint appeared in his gaze. ‘Now, there’s a thought.’ His eyes roved over her in a leisurely manner, causing her body to flare with molten heat.

Mollie knew he was thinking of all the times he had stripped her naked, all the times he had kissed her body from head to toe.

All the times he had possessed her, gently, roughly, urgently, passionately.

She wasn’t one to blush readily, but she could feel the hot bloom of colour flowing into her cheeks once more as each erotic memory flooded her brain.

Blood flowed to her inner core, making her feminine folds swell with wicked want.

How could she control this driving need for him?

Was it because she had been celibate for two years?

Even her breasts tingled inside the lace of her cheap bra, as if anticipating the roll of his tongue, the warm, wet suck of his mouth, the sexy scrape of his teeth and the rasp of his stubble on her soft flesh.

He could unravel her senses, blow her mind and her body just by looking at her.

She would have to be careful how she handled him this coming weekend.

It had broken her heart to give him up two years ago; she wasn’t sure she would survive a second time.

Mollie challenged him with her gaze, using every bit of acting talent she had gained over the years of her crazy, chaotic life. ‘If you put one finger on me, Jago Wilde, I will make you regret it.’

Jago gave a mocking laugh that grated on her already shredded nerves.

Then he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his muscular thighs, his eyes nailing hers.

Even though there was a coffee table between them, it seemed like no distance at all.

This close, she could see the individual pinpricks of his dark stubble that liberally peppered his jaw.

Her fingers itched to run over his skin, to feel the abrasion of his growth on her softer skin.

She suppressed a tiny shiver and tried to stop thinking of what it had been like to have his head between her legs, his tongue playing her like a maestro plays a priceless instrument.

Why couldn’t she forget all the times he had touched her?

The memories were burned, seared, scorched into her flesh like a brand.

‘We will have to act like lovers while we’re at Wildewood Manor. You will have to accept my touch, even my kisses, or the deal is off. Understood?’ His voice was deep and gravel-rough and underlined with the implacability she knew was an essential part of his personality.

Feminist she might be, but his unshakable authority sent a delicate frisson over her flesh.

She had locked horns with him in the past, and it had always been resolved with smoking-hot sex.

Make-up sex. But there was no way Jago would ever forgive her for jilting him, so any sex between them now would be revenge sex.

Could she allow her body to be used that way? But her body still craved him, so how would it be anything but a mutual explosion of the senses? Jago wanted her on his terms, but she had terms of her own and she would insist on them.

Mollie ground her teeth behind her painted smile. ‘I want to be paid up-front.’

Cynicism burned in his gaze like a laser beam. ‘That can be arranged, but it comes with conditions.’

A feather of unease danced up and down her spine. ‘What conditions?’

‘You’ve run away from me before. I am not letting it happen again.’

‘I promise you I won’t—’

‘Your promises mean nothing to me. They are worthless,’ Jago said in a harsh tone that lashed her like the flick of a whip. His eyes were so dark they were almost blue-black, and his jaw was tight as a clamp.

And yet again, her traitorous body revelled in his commanding manner.

It made every cell of her body tingle with awareness and every inch of her skin tighten.

Even though he clearly hated her, Mollie knew without a doubt he still wanted her.

It was written in his features, it pulsed like electricity in the atmosphere, it circled back and forth between them like a fizzing current.

It gave her a fraction of power in their relationship as it stood now.

Physical power she could use to her advantage.

And she would use it. She would be as ruthless as she needed to be to survive being around him again.

‘It’s only Wednesday,’ Mollie pointed out. ‘You can hardly keep me chained to your side until Friday.’

One black brow arched up in a satirical manner. ‘Can’t I?’

Another frisson of excitement coursed. He was ruthless enough to do whatever it took to get what he wanted, especially now. He was a Wilde, and the name was synonymous with ruthlessness .

What Wilde men wanted, they got.

‘I’ll come with you Friday, but I need time to prepare myself,’ Mollie said. ‘We’ve spent two years apart. It won’t be easy to slip back into the role of your fiancée.’

Jago leaned back in his chair, one of his hands scraping his hair back from his face, leaving deep fingertip grooves in the thick black strands.

How many times had she lain draped across his naked body, her fingers doing the very same thing to his hair?

Was he remembering it? Remembering how it felt to hold her, to possess her?

She studied his expression, searching for a clue to what he was feeling, but all she could see was bitterness and distrust etched in his handsome features.

It pained her to think of what their relationship could have been if it hadn’t been for those dreadful photos of her.

They might have even had a baby by now…

They hadn’t discussed having children in much detail, but she knew it was Jago’s grandmother’s yearning desire to hold a great-grandchild in her arms before she died.

Neither of Jago’s brothers were settled down, although Mollie had seen a gossip article about Jonas and his girlfriend, Tessa Macclesfield, who he had dated for a couple of months.

Coincidentally, Tessa was the wedding cake designer who had designed Mollie and Jago’s spectacular wedding cake.

Mollie had always wanted to call on Tessa and apologise in person at her shop in Notting Hill, but there hadn’t been time before she’d left to move to Scotland to get Eliot into a private rehab clinic in Glasgow.

He had left after four months, which had been heartbreaking for her.

Heartbreaking to have a glimpse of hope only for it to be snatched away again.

But he had agreed to try it again and had been there six months so far this time.

But it was expensive. Hideously, terrifyingly expensive for someone in Mollie’s dire financial position.

The money Jago was offering would not only pay for a whole year or more of private rehab but could also get her started in her own health and beauty spa.

To have her brother healed as well as her career on track was like wishing for the moon and stars and the International Space Station, but she refused to give up hope.

If she gave up on her dream, then she would have failed herself as well as her brother.

‘I have a few business things to see to in Edinburgh tomorrow, but we will fly down to London early on Friday then drive to Wildewood,’ Jago said. ‘Give me your address so I can pick you up on Friday.’ He took out his phone in preparation to type in her current address.

Mollie gave him a quizzical look. ‘But surely you must already know it. I mean, you found my clinic easily enough. Did you engage the services of a private investigator to track me down?’

Jago lowered his phone to look at her. ‘You once mentioned you’d always wanted to visit Scotland. I did a little research and found out a young woman matching your description was working in a beauty clinic here.’

Mollie wouldn’t put it past him to have engaged MI5 to track her down.

There were numerous beauty clinics in Edinburgh and its surrounds.

But then, Jago had connections most people could only dream about.

Wilde money opened doors and created opportunities way out of reach for the general population.

But it was a little unnerving to think it hadn’t taken Jago long to find her.

She wondered if he already knew about her awful little bedsit and was only asking for her address as a formality.

Again, it made her think of how she could have been living in the lap of luxury if she hadn’t jilted him two years ago.

She certainly wouldn’t be living in a cramped and mould-ridden studio on the basement floor of a rundown tenement house.

Mollie told him her address, keeping her expression masked as he typed it in his phone.

She looked at his long fingers as he entered her address, her imagination taking her places she knew she shouldn’t be going.

Those fingers had touched her, stroked her, tantalised her in places no one else had touched.

She could not imagine wanting anyone else to touch her now even though two long, lonely years had passed.

Her body was branded by his touch, her mouth craved only his taste, and she couldn’t see it changing anytime soon.

Jago Wilde, damn him, had quite literally ruined her for anyone else.