Page 23 of Pretend Wife (Angels of the Secret Order #4)

EIGHTEEN

Hayden

As weeks turned into months, I spent every free moment I had with Danielle, basking in her warmth and light.

Everything about her both calmed me down and drove me crazy at the same time. I wanted to taste her, to feel her skin against mine, to explore every inch of her body and soul. I didn’t even want to fuck her at this point. I wanted to worship her.

But I couldn’t. She was waiting for her forever person, and no matter how much I wanted that to be me, my brother was right. Danielle deserved someone who was strong enough to overcome their demons.

So now we were friends without benefits.

We went to galas and luncheons together.

I held her hand in public and kissed her as much as I thought I could get away with and tried to ignore the pit of dread that kept growing in my gut with every day that went by.

Our arrangement might be pure, utter torture, but the thought of it ending was even worse.

I glanced at the security footage of my penthouse. Danielle was sitting on one of the giant beanbag chairs she’d added to my living room, her phone pressed to her ear. She’d been on the phone all day, and I was driving myself crazy wondering who she was talking to.

Not that it was any of my business. I was already walking a fine line by watching her through my security cameras. She knew I had them, but knowing they existed and knowing I actively watched her throughout my workday were two different things.

I should probably quit the stalker habit. But what I should do and what I likely would didn’t always align.

I managed to ignore the cameras for a few hours and actually do the job I was supposed to be doing until I got a notification that someone was at my door.

All bets were off then. I told myself that I would be checking that even if Danielle wasn’t there, so I technically wasn’t stalking her by checking the doorbell feed.

Yeah, I didn’t really believe that either.

The image I saw made my fingers clench around the phone and my teeth grind.

There was a man standing in front of my door. A twenty-something-year-old man who was not my brother. He was dressed casually in a muscle tank top and ripped jeans. Longish dark hair was pushed back from a face girls probably found handsome.

Who the fuck was he? And what was he doing at my penthouse when I wasn’t there ?

He grinned, presumably at my wife, and then said something while waggling his eyebrows.

A moment went by, and then he placed a hand over his heart in a dramatic gesture of heartbreak.

I was going to break that hand when I got there, which was going to be in approximately fifteen minutes.

He walked inside, and I switched back to my interior cameras. I was not even going to pretend I was doing anything other than blatant spying/stalking now.

Danielle led him into my living room, and they plopped on those beanbag chairs she loved so much.

I watched the two of them talk like they were perfectly comfortable together.

He didn’t try to touch her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

Playing the gentleman could just be the first step to seducing Danielle.

Besides, she was married for the moment.

Whatever they might have would have to wait until her deal with me ended.

Would he wait for her to be done with me? Did she want him to?

And why the fuck did that idea hurt so much? I’d always planned to let her go. But my fucker of a brother was right. I did want her back, and I might already be too late.

I killed the view of my cameras and dialed Freddie’s number. He’d been married a grand total of three weeks longer than I had, but I trusted his advice more than Orlando’s.

“Hayden?”

“How do I know if the man my wife just invited into my house is a friend or something else? And if it’s the latter, how do I make him disappear without her hating me?”

“Are we talking about your supposedly fake wife you bought a three-carat diamond for?”

“Fuck you, Rossi. If I wanted to deal with this bullshit, I’d have called Amato.”

Freddie chuckled with what sounded like real amusement. “You know it only bothers you because we’re right.”

“Just answer the damn question,” I gritted out.

“You could just ask her.”

“I only know he’s there because I saw him on my doorbell camera. I don’t want to be the asshole who’s spying on my wife in our home.”

“You are the asshole who’s spying on her.”

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically. “That’s really helpful.”

His sigh echoed through the phone speaker. “I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but have you tried social media stalking her?”

“She doesn’t have social media, and I’ve never seen him on her friends’ pages.”

“I’m out of ideas, man. I think you’re going to have to bite the bullet and ask her.”

Shit.

I ran a hand through my hair, probably turning it into what my father would call an unprofessional mess. “What if he’s more than a friend?” I asked, wincing as I did.

“I guess that depends. If this is as fake as you claimed, it shouldn’t matter. If not… you might want to learn how to grovel. Because you have a long way to go if you ever want to win her back. ”

“We weren’t really together in the first place,” I muttered.

“You can lie to yourself about that all you want, but I’ve known you since we were in prep school. Do you really think we missed your exclusive relationship with her last year?”

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth most of the time.”

He chuckled. “I’m still right though.”

“Whatever, asshole.”

I was already grabbing my jacket as I hung up on Freddie.

Work could wait; I needed to go stake my claim on my wife.

I didn’t care if I wasn’t good enough for her.

I’d find a way to become the husband she needed.

I’d figure it out. Because I didn’t ever want to let her go so some other asshole could swoop in and try to take what belonged to me.

As soon as I was through my front door, I made a beeline for Danielle.

I completely ignored the douche she’d invited over as I cupped her cheeks between my hands and crashed my lips against hers, like claiming her would make her realize that she was mine.

Because she was—she was my best friend, my confidante and partner, the only person I trusted unconditionally, and the woman I was in love with.

Shit.

I was in love with her.

How could I not be? She was perfect—sweet and strong and not afraid of putting me in my place. She’d never looked at me with dollar signs in her eyes. And she loved my family as much as I did .

“What are you doing?” she gasped out when we finally came up for air.

“Having a revelation.”

“And that involves kissing me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine. And I’m going to find a way to prove it to you.”

A throat clearing made Danielle pull back, or at least try to. I kept my hand on her waist, preventing her from going far.

“Hayden, this is Ian. He works for Sam and played my chauffeur for a while when I first moved to Boston.”

“Nice to meet you,” the kid said with an easy smile.

I nodded curtly.

“Well, I should probably get back home.”

“Already?” Danielle asked.

“I don’t want to be late. Don’t be a stranger. You’re always welcome at the club.”

My jaw clenched at his words.

“Good luck with Daphne,” Danielle called after him as he slipped out of our penthouse.

As soon as he was gone, she turned and swatted my shoulder. “You scared away my guest.”

I shrugged. “I just made sure he knew you were taken.”

“Right, because he easily could have missed the ring.” Danielle rolled her eyes.

“The ring could be a symbol of a fake marriage.”

“So could a kiss.”

“Did that kiss feel fake, Sunday School? ”

Her lips parted, and a light flush spread across her cheeks. “Hayden…”

“Yes?”

“I honestly don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“More like exasperated.”

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“He wasn’t looking at me in any way. He was asking me for advice on how to propose to his girlfriend, who is the only girl he has looked at since before I met him. You’re being unreasonable.”

“I’m sorry?” I wasn’t, but I was willing to pretend for Danielle’s sake.

“No you’re not.” She shook her head, but she was smiling. “What are you even doing home right now?”

“I missed you.” I tightened my hold, pulling her more firmly against my chest. It was like she’d been made to fit against me perfectly. I was an idiot to let this woman go and think that I would simply be able to forget her. Danielle was as forgettable as the sun.

It had been three days since my revelation that I loved Danielle, and I had yet to convince her to move out of the guest room at the end of the hall and into my room.

It wasn’t like sharing a bed was a new concept for us.

Besides our couple of nights at my parents’ beach house, I used to spend nights with Danielle all the time when we’d been together.

I was capable of sleeping beside her without breaking her no-sex rule, and she knew it.

So her refusing to move rooms was wholly due to her stubbornness.

I refused to entertain the idea that she didn’t want me as much as I wanted her.

If that were the case, she wouldn’t lean into my touch or kiss me back like she couldn’t get enough.

She wouldn’t stay up late with me every night, talking about everything and nothing before disappearing into her room.

But I’d change her mind somehow. Or I’d eventually throw her over my shoulder and carry her to my room caveman-style, something I wouldn’t have ever considered before this woman came into my life.

“Sunday School?” I called through the closed door of her room. “Are you ready to go?” We had yet another gala tonight where other people would try to steal the time we had together. Possibly worse was all the time Danielle spent holed up in her bedroom getting ready.