Page 1 of Merry Fake Bride

1

KAIRO

She’s beautiful.

Purple, pink, and blue lights spin around above her head, casting a rainbow of colors across her dark hair while the white flashes, woven in time to the thumping beat of the music.

They highlight the sparkles across her halter-neck shroud.

It’s not the glitter or the color that draws me in, though, nor is it the alluring sweeps of her body or the amazing curvature of her ass perched on the stool by the bar.

It’s her smile.

She’s clearly a few drinks deep into whatever she’s celebrating, but each time she catches the attention of the bartender to request another drink, this stunning, bright smile stretches across her luscious red lips and it makes my heart jump slightly every single time I glimpse her.

A dazzling smile is rare in a city like this and yet she smiles like the stars above have drifted down from the sky to settle in hereyes, making them twinkle with delight as she requests another drink.

That’s her fourth, not that I’m counting. We’re about even.

I spotted her while on my second drink, and it’s taken two more ice-cold Bourbons to draw up the courage to talk to her.

Nerves with a woman isn’t something I’m familiar with, but as I slide off my stool and move down the bar to the other end where she sits, my heart begins to race like it understands something I don’t.

I put the fluttering in my chest down to the stress of the day and plaster a warm smile on my lips as I stop a few feet away from her and point to the empty stool on her right.

“Is this seat taken?”

She spins in her seat, flinching slightly at the sound of my voice despite the din from the speakers, and her gorgeous, sparkling eyes widen.

In this light, with the loud music causing the lights above to pulse with color and brightness, her eyes look like a golden galaxy with an array of colors swirling around her irises.

“Huh?” she squeaks at me, and despite the dark blanket that covers the bar in between the bursts of light, I catch a pink blush creeping over the apples of her cheeks.

“This seat,” I repeat. “Is it taken?”

“Oh! No, not at all.” She adjusts herself on her stool and her bright, dazzling smile hits me with the force of a soft punch. “No one’s sitting there.”

“May I?”

Surprise flickers faintly across her features and she nods. “Sure.”

I slide onto the stool and raise one hand to half-mast, signaling the bartender.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the woman’s eyes flit down my body and her mouth briefly falls open.

The heat of her gaze traveling across my body sends a rush of warmth up and down my arms, further warming my already heated skin.

In a bar like this where people are packed like sardines on the dancefloor, jumping and bouncing to music so loud it makes my back teeth vibrate, there’s no expectation of privacy.

Yet sitting here next to this woman who caught my eye suddenly makes me feel like we’re the only two people in this entire building.

Until the bartender finally notices me and hurries closer while draping a towel over his shoulder.

“Another?” he asks while leaning across the bar toward me. “Bourbon, right?”

Impressive that he remembers that even with me switching seats, although maybe it’s a sign I’ve been drinking too much tonight. “Yes, please. And whatever the lady is having.”

She tears her gaze away from my waist and looks up at me with those large, golden eyes.