The Gold Digger Gambit_A Honeytrap Inc. Romance by Tabitha A Lane

Author:Tabitha A Lane [Lane, Tabitha A]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sexy romance, romance series, romantic suspense
Publisher: Tabitha A Lane
Published: 2018-09-10T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

Marco

“Not married.”

There’s a sour taste in my mouth. I’m not the only one deceived—Brian never thought to check that the wedding was real when we took on this case, we just took our client’s word for it. I reach for her left hand, rub my fingers over the huge diamond engagement ring and its matching gold band.

“We had to fool everyone. The rings are real. One hundred percent genuine diamonds and gold, but they’re just part of my costume. To be returned at the end of my assignment.”

“Were you ever his nurse?”

“No. But Montgomery thought that would be the best role to play to introduce me into the household. He thought meeting me at a party or something would be unbelievable.” She breathed out, walked over to the bed and kicked off her shoes. “I’m exhausted.” She climbed onto the bed and leaned against the headboard. “I work for my father’s firm of private investigators. He and Stephen are old friends, they served together.”

My last interaction with Stephen makes sense now. He couldn’t help but laugh when I said I didn’t care that Kristie was married, because he knew she was single. Knew she’d shared only half truths.

“This is the most important assignment of my career, I can’t fail.”

She’s been laughing at me, all this time. Playing the part of wife, and watching as my fucking conscience lances through me every time I touch her. I haven’t felt so betrayed since my ex walked out the moment she realized her meal ticket was more hamburger than fillet mignon. When will I learn that women aren’t to be trusted?

There’s an ache in my chest. Probably heartburn, rather than heartbreak.

“You’re single and unattached.”

“I am.” A smile tilts her lips upwards.

“There’s nothing to stop you from going to bed with me.”

Her smile widens. “Not a single thing.”

“Good to know.” I sit next to her. “So tell me about this recording device.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re angry.”

“That you played me for a fool? Yeah, actually, I am angry. I’m more than angry, I’m disgusted.” Just how far has she gone to keep this illusion real? They sleep in the same room, do they share a bed too? Does she dress him every morning and undress him every night? Somehow the thought of her lying in bed with him pretending to be his wife is even more objectionable than her being a gold digger with a piece of paper to make it legal.

“Says the guy who seduces women for a living.”

I’ve kissed them. Led them to believe there will be more. Have even booked a room for afternoon delight that turned out to be afternoon what-the-fuck? I want to say I’ve never gone too far with a target. That I’ve always known where the line is, and never crossed it.

But then I remember holding this woman on my lap, palming her breasts. Wanting her so badly my cock ached. And turning her away—not because fucking her is a conflict of interest, but out of a misplaced sense of doing what’s right.

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