Release Blitz~ The Perfect Illusion by Winter Renshaw
Itās only pretendā¦
And itās only three months.
Iām in the midst of scrawling āI QUIT!ā onto his fancy cardstock letterhead when my boss corners me. He needs a favor, he says. And then he asks how well I can act ā¦
Hudson Rutherford needs a fiancƩe.
With his old-moneyed parents forcing him to marry some bratty hotel heiress and his hedonistic, playboy lifestyle at stake, the only way to get them to back off is to make them think heās truly, madly, deeply in love ā¦ with meāhis third personal assistant this year.
But I can hardly stand working for him as it is.
Hudson is crazy hot and well-aware. Heās arrogant, spoiled, and silver-spooned. He checks me out when he thinks Iām not looking, and his life is a revolving door of beautiful women. Plus, he canāt even pronounce my name correctlyāhowās he going to convince his family heās in love with me?!
Iām seconds from giving him a resounding ānoā when he flashes his signature dimpled smirk and gives me a number that happens to contain a whole mess of zeroes ā¦
On second thought, I think I can swallow my pride.
But, oh baby, thereās one thing I havenāt told him, one teensy-tiny thing that could make this just a hair complicated ā¦
Hereās hoping this entire thing doesnāt explode in our faces.
And itās only three months.
Iām in the midst of scrawling āI QUIT!ā onto his fancy cardstock letterhead when my boss corners me. He needs a favor, he says. And then he asks how well I can act ā¦
Hudson Rutherford needs a fiancƩe.
With his old-moneyed parents forcing him to marry some bratty hotel heiress and his hedonistic, playboy lifestyle at stake, the only way to get them to back off is to make them think heās truly, madly, deeply in love ā¦ with meāhis third personal assistant this year.
But I can hardly stand working for him as it is.
Hudson is crazy hot and well-aware. Heās arrogant, spoiled, and silver-spooned. He checks me out when he thinks Iām not looking, and his life is a revolving door of beautiful women. Plus, he canāt even pronounce my name correctlyāhowās he going to convince his family heās in love with me?!
Iām seconds from giving him a resounding ānoā when he flashes his signature dimpled smirk and gives me a number that happens to contain a whole mess of zeroes ā¦
On second thought, I think I can swallow my pride.
But, oh baby, thereās one thing I havenāt told him, one teensy-tiny thing that could make this just a hair complicated ā¦
Hereās hoping this entire thing doesnāt explode in our faces.
āWhat? What are you thinking?ā I ask.
Her brows lift. āThat this entire thing sounds insane. And that youāre insane.ā
āMaybe it is. And maybe I am. But I know it could work.ā
She turns to me, her eyes holding mine. āWhy me, though? I canāt stand you and youāre well aware.ā
āThatās exactly why it has to be you.ā
āYou canāt tell me that out of the assortment of women Iāve seen waltzing in and out of your life the last two months, not one of them would be jumping at the chance to help you with this.ā
āYouāre right. They would be. But then theyād want something more, and quite frankly, I have nothing more to give than my last name and a comfortable lifestyle,ā I say, checking my wristwatch. āYou, Mari ā¦ you wouldnāt want more from me, and thatās exactly why youāre the only one I trust.ā
āI donāt know how I could convince anyone Iām in love with someone who gets under my skin the way you do, Hudson.ā
āYou said you could act.ā I lift a brow.
āI ā¦ yeah ā¦ I guess? But can you?ā
Stepping toward her, I take her by the wrist and guide her off the bar stool, pulling her body against mine, meeting her curious gaze with my own sultry version. Cupping her soft cheek in my right hand and letting my fingers graze the nape of her neck, I lift her mouth, holding mine inches from hers.
She breathes me in, her stare unblinking. My left hand circles her waist, feeling it cave with my touch.
āIāve never told you this before ā¦ but the day I met you, I knew there was something special about you. And something tells me youāre about to become the best thing thatās ever happened to me,ā I say, my words slow and gentle as our eyes lock. āI want to spend the rest of my life with you, until weāre old and gray. We might drive each other crazy, our path may be a bit bumpy at times, but weāre going to love every minute of it. Marry me, Maribel Collins. Be my wife. I donāt want anyone but you.ā
Stillness lingers between us, and then she releases a shuddering breath before blinking. Peeling herself from me, she tucks her thick blonde hair behind her ears before resting her hands on her hips.
āThat was ā¦ā Mari leaves her thought unfinished as she moves a few paces back. āThat was ā¦ cheesy. But passable.ā Her lips pull into a bitten grin as she recovers her composure. āYouāre good at that.ā Glancing up at me, her expression dissolves. āNot that Iām surprised. Youāre a professional manipulator.ā
Rolling my eyes, I exhale. āDo you want the money or not?ā
Her hand rests on her stomach briefly, and then she continues pacing. Sheās going to wear a beaten path into the wood floor by the time sheās finished.
āFive million dollars.ā I fold my arms. āFinal offer.ā
Mari stops in her tracks, her gaze flicking to mine. āI donāt want to do this. I think itās a bad idea. But youāre making it impossible for me to say no.ā
My mouth curls at the sides. āI knew youād see it my way.ā
Her brows lift. āThat this entire thing sounds insane. And that youāre insane.ā
āMaybe it is. And maybe I am. But I know it could work.ā
She turns to me, her eyes holding mine. āWhy me, though? I canāt stand you and youāre well aware.ā
āThatās exactly why it has to be you.ā
āYou canāt tell me that out of the assortment of women Iāve seen waltzing in and out of your life the last two months, not one of them would be jumping at the chance to help you with this.ā
āYouāre right. They would be. But then theyād want something more, and quite frankly, I have nothing more to give than my last name and a comfortable lifestyle,ā I say, checking my wristwatch. āYou, Mari ā¦ you wouldnāt want more from me, and thatās exactly why youāre the only one I trust.ā
āI donāt know how I could convince anyone Iām in love with someone who gets under my skin the way you do, Hudson.ā
āYou said you could act.ā I lift a brow.
āI ā¦ yeah ā¦ I guess? But can you?ā
Stepping toward her, I take her by the wrist and guide her off the bar stool, pulling her body against mine, meeting her curious gaze with my own sultry version. Cupping her soft cheek in my right hand and letting my fingers graze the nape of her neck, I lift her mouth, holding mine inches from hers.
She breathes me in, her stare unblinking. My left hand circles her waist, feeling it cave with my touch.
āIāve never told you this before ā¦ but the day I met you, I knew there was something special about you. And something tells me youāre about to become the best thing thatās ever happened to me,ā I say, my words slow and gentle as our eyes lock. āI want to spend the rest of my life with you, until weāre old and gray. We might drive each other crazy, our path may be a bit bumpy at times, but weāre going to love every minute of it. Marry me, Maribel Collins. Be my wife. I donāt want anyone but you.ā
Stillness lingers between us, and then she releases a shuddering breath before blinking. Peeling herself from me, she tucks her thick blonde hair behind her ears before resting her hands on her hips.
āThat was ā¦ā Mari leaves her thought unfinished as she moves a few paces back. āThat was ā¦ cheesy. But passable.ā Her lips pull into a bitten grin as she recovers her composure. āYouāre good at that.ā Glancing up at me, her expression dissolves. āNot that Iām surprised. Youāre a professional manipulator.ā
Rolling my eyes, I exhale. āDo you want the money or not?ā
Her hand rests on her stomach briefly, and then she continues pacing. Sheās going to wear a beaten path into the wood floor by the time sheās finished.
āFive million dollars.ā I fold my arms. āFinal offer.ā
Mari stops in her tracks, her gaze flicking to mine. āI donāt want to do this. I think itās a bad idea. But youāre making it impossible for me to say no.ā
My mouth curls at the sides. āI knew youād see it my way.ā
Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When sheās not writing, sheās living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.
And if you'd like to be the first to know when a new book is coming out, please sign up for her private mailing list here ---> http://eepurl.com/bfQU2j
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