The first time he called me “Mrs. Cole,” my pulse stuttered.
We were standing in the lobby of the exclusive coastal resort he’d booked for the weekend. The chandeliers above us spilled golden light on polished marble, the scent of expensive perfume hanging in the air. Everything about the place screamed money and power. He slid an arm around my waist with practiced ease, leaning down to murmur against my ear.
“Smile, Mrs. Cole. They’re watching.”
His voice was low, smooth, and dangerous.
I forced a smile, tilting my head just enough for the front desk attendant to see how natural we looked together. To anyone else, we were the perfect couple checking in for a romantic getaway. They didn’t know I was only here because of a deal we made three days ago.
Pretend to be his wife.
One weeke
