But what if Wolf expected that?
She shot an uncertain glance up into his face. “Mr. Kerrick, I think you should know right now, up front, that I don’t do the casting-couch routine.” Her heart raced as she considered his hard features, his firm, sensual mouth. “I won’t do it. It’s not how I was raised.”
His lips curled up, a flicker of wry amusement touched his dark eyes before just as swiftly disappearing. “I’ve never needed to convince or pressure a woman into bed.”
“Yes, I know,” she said, pulse still pounding like mad. “But I wouldn’t want you to think that later I’ll do things—”
“Miss Shanahan, rest assured that there’s no risk of that. Forgive my bluntness, but you’re not my type.”
Her face flooded with heat even as her blood turned to ice. Oh, God. How humiliating. But she’d practically asked for that, hadn’t she?
Painfully embarrassed, Alexandra felt her insides curdle and cramp. Of course she wasn’t his type. Of course he wouldn’t want to take someone like her to bed. He could have any woman in the world, why would he want to be with her?
“I’m sorry,” she said, voice noticeably husky, “but I don’t think this is going to work. I’m not who or what you need.” She fumbled for her purse, finally finding it at her feet, next to her chair. “And I’m not about to try to change to please you or anyone else.”
She rose to escape, but Wolf reached out, caught her hand, kept her from fleeing.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” His deep voice, pitched low, vibrated inside her as his dark eyes, a glittering onyx, held her transfixed. “You’re exactly what I want and need.”
His words shook her, but it was his touch, that scalding press of skin on skin, that made her knees buckle. With his hand around her wrist, she felt electric, charged, different. “I know I’m no beauty queen, but there’s no reason for you to be cruel—”
His fingers tightened around her wrist. “Cruel? I’m paying you a compliment. I’ve picked you to play the role of my lover.” His voice deepened, betraying his Dublin roots. “I wouldn’t ask just anyone—”
“And I’m to be flattered by that?”
“Yes.”
She tugged at her hand, hating the ruthless edge in his voice, that raw, hard, male quality that made him want to dominate her and everything else in his world. “That’s where you’re mistaken.” Tears shimmered in her eyes. “Because I’m not flattered and I don’t take it as a compliment that you’ve chosen me to fill a role in your life. I’m not an accessory, Mr. Kerrick. Not for you, not for anyone!”
She stole a quick breath, noticed the diners around them watching in rabid interest. “People are staring,” she said softly, a faint catch in her voice. “Please release me and let me go.”
“I’ll release you, but I want you to sit down and finish this—”
“It is finished,” she flashed furiously.
“No, it’s not. Sit down. Now.” He exhaled. “Please.”
Alex slowly sank into her chair again, her purse falling limply to her lap.
Wolf leaned forward, his dark eyes never leaving hers. “Don’t let your pride get in the way, Miss Shanahan. Your boss told me you’re smart, ambitious. This is an opportunity to make a name for yourself.”
Her nausea had returned, stronger than before. “Make a name for myself as what? Your fake girlfriend?” She stared at him incredulously. “You think I should jump at your proposal, be flattered because I’m a plain-Jane girl and don’t get out much, is that it? And yes, I’m ambitious, but unfortunately not ambitious enough to date you. Not ambitious enough to pretend to be your girlfriend to get a promotion. I find it digusting that I’d gain industry status—respect—simply by being seen around town with you. That’s not the way life should work—”
“Maybe it’s not the way it should, but it’s the way it does.”
“And doesn’t that strike you as immoral? Wrong?”
“No. It’s practical.”
“Of course it would seem so to you. You’re the man that dates married women!” And with a violent jerk, she broke free and rose to rush from the table.
Fighting tears, Alexandra squeezed through the tables lining the terrace, wound her way down a pink painted hallway to the ladies’ room even as his words rang in her head.
Perfect for the job. Damage control. Publicity stunt. Pretend to date me. Practical.
The tears fell even before she’d managed to lock herself inside the bathroom stall.
This was exactly why her father hadn’t wanted her to come to California.
This was exactly what her brothers had predicted would happen.
They’d all said she was too young, too inexperienced to survive in a dog-eat-dog city like Los Angeles, and she’d been so determined to prove them wrong. So determined to make it on her own and do it right.
But playing Wolf Kerrick’s girlfriend would be far from right.
The tears trickled down her face, and she scrubbed them away with a furious fist.
He’d pay her to be seen with him.
He’d make sure she was compensated.
Alexandra’s throat squeezed closed. She felt as though she were gasping for air on the inside, fighting for calm and control.
And then it hit her. She didn’t have to go back to the table. She didn’t have to see Mr. Kerrick again or endure any more of his painful proposal.
She could just go. She could just leave and get her car and return to work.
It was as easy as that.
Calmer now, Alexandra exited the stall, rinsed off her face, patted her damp face and hands dry. The valet attendant had her car key. She had her purse with her. She’d just go now.
Alex left the bathroom but had only taken two steps when she froze, her body stiffening with horror.
Wolf Kerrick was waiting for her. And standing, he was even taller than she remembered.
She felt all her nerves tense, tighten. Even her heartbeat seemed to slow. “The men’s restroom is on the other side,” she said lowly.
“I know.”
“The bar is the other direction—”
“You know I’m waiting for you.”
Alexandra drew a quick, shallow breath. She was exhausted. Emotionally flattened. All her excitement, all her good feelings about meeting Wolf Kerrick were long gone. “There’s no point. There’s nothing more
