Page 42 of The Sun & Her Burn

A violent shiver rocked my frame, and heat flared in my cheeks when I realized how obvious I was being about my daydreaming.

“What?” Adam asked innocently even though his grin was anything but. A wolfish expression that made him look capable of swallowing both of us whole. “I am just being honest with my future wife, Sebastian. You’re not jealous, are you?”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched, the knuckles of his hands white with strain as he gripped the arms of his chair. I wondered for a moment who exactly he was jealous of, Adam orme.

“Linnea is a beautiful woman,” he said with forced calm. “But don’t forget what kind of arrangement you are agreeing to. That’s how people get hurt.”

An undercurrent of something dark and painful spilled through the room, a ghost that hadn’t been properly laid to rest.

“You know, as a condition of the agreement, you won’t be allowed to date or sleep with anyone else for the duration of the contract?” Adam asked mildly, but he was looking at Sebastian as if daring him to argue.

Sebastian opened his mouth to do just that, but I didn’t need him to speak for me.

“I can be discreet,” I offered with a pretty smile.

Both Adam and Seb scowled.

I laughed. “Oh, don’t go all caveman on me. I won’t lie and say the idea of foregoing sex for the next three years is appealing, but I’ve been single for a while now. I know how to scratch my own itch.”

I almost laughed again when both Adam and Sebastian’s gazes grew distant, perhaps imagining just how I tended to that need. It sent a little thrill through me to know that both men might find me attractive, that either might be imagining putting their hands on me just as I had imagined it minutes before.

I was in a closed-door room with two of the most gorgeous men in Hollywood, one of whom I was going to pretend to date and the other whom I was desperate to date even though he clearly didn’t want me.

Life could be such a bitch.

Adam cleared his throat. “If you’re amenable, I’d like to help you with your career.”

“I already introduced her to Mali,” Sebastian interjected. “She will represent her going forward.”

“Excellent, though Rachel is arguably the best in the business,” Adam said, crossing his arms and managing to stare down his nose at the Italian.

On cue, Seb scoffed, “Mali represents the best young actors in the industry.”

“There is something to be said for experience,” Adam countered.

Laughter lodged in my throat at their repartee even though I knew neither found it funny. Their rapport was so obvious, a half-hidden artifact buried poorly beneath years of neglect.

“Did you have a monetary number in mind for reparation?” Adam’s voice broke into my reverie.

I blinked because I hadn’t really thought about an actual dollar amount. How much did someone get paid to pretend to date a celebrity?

“Why don’t I mock up the contract with a number I think is appropriate, and you can let me know if it’s acceptable?” Adam suggested when I was quiet for too long. “Talk about it with your lawyer, your agent, and Sebastian, if you must. But I promise, it will be generous.”

“Okay,” I said. “Honestly, I just need enough to be able to take care of Miranda.”

Adam nodded, but he stepped forward with a calculating gaze to capture one of my hands, the same one with the ring I was twisting anxiously around one finger. I watched as he smoothed a thumb over the cheap collection of jewellery I had adorning most of my fingers.

“I think we can manage a little better than that,” he murmured. “Perhaps something pure gold for these beautiful hands to match the gold of your pure heart.”

“Linnea doesn’t need gold to shine,” Sebastian said, suddenly standing from his chair, tense and irritated. “Don’t play the charm offensive with her, Adam. She’ll know the real you soon enough.”

Adam tipped his head to eye his old friend. “I seem to recall you found the real me charming enough.”

Sebastian’s flinch was so minute it was almost imperceptible, but his mouth slackened with hurt, and his eyes went flat like hammered gold.

“That was a long time ago,” he said, his Italian accent especially pronounced.

The hurt between the two men was so palpable it felt like an electric current in the air before a summer storm, the hairs on the back of my neck raised in warning. If I exposed myself to it for too long, I knew I would be caught up in a tempest I might not recover from.