Faking Forever (First Wives #4)(71)

She relaxed in his embrace and rested the back of her head against his shoulder. It felt way too good, and way too safe, to stand like they were.

“You and I met, which I’m guessing from what you’ve told me, had you putting your getting-pregnant-by-a-stranger plans on hold. Am I right so far?”

“Yes,” she murmured, glad she wasn’t looking into Victor’s eyes with her confession.

“Phew. That’s a good thing. I haven’t punched a guy since junior high and don’t mind the thought of never doing that again.”

She giggled.

“Based on the fact that you haven’t jumped me and that you told me about those baby plans, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you’re not trying to trick me into being your baby daddy.”

“I would never—” She started to pull away and turn toward him.

He stopped her by holding her tighter, resting his chin on her shoulder, and kissing her cheek. “Shhh, I know you wouldn’t.” He paused. “Personally, and probably selfishly, I like the thought of you buying this place or a different one with the same layout. It gives you time to find your new pace in life and us time to get to know each other better.”

Her mind raced and caught up with his. “You know, when a man tells you exactly what you want to hear, it’s probably bullshit.”

He hugged her tighter. “I’m a pretty good negotiator. Even better when I know the motivation of the person I’m negotiating with. Which in this case is you. I promised I wouldn’t play you, and that’s not what I’m doing.” He sighed. “This is not the kind of place to raise a family.”

“It isn’t.”

“Which is why you’re hesitating.”

She stayed silent.

He placed his lips close to her ear. “You’re looking at this place as if you’re abandoning the idea of being a mother. And I look at this place as if you’re considering that I might just be the father.”

Shannon twisted in his arms, backed up, and stared him in the eye.

He stared back.

Dumbstruck. There really wasn’t another word to describe how rooted in silence she became with his observation. Maybe because the picture he painted made her realize that was exactly what buying this place meant.

“Most men would be running away if they thought that were true,” she finally uttered.

He reduced the space between them and placed a hand on her cheek. “You underestimate yourself.”

Her heart was racing. “Victor—”

“Shh . . . I need to do something.” He licked his lips and lowered them to hers.

Damn if she didn’t melt, right there in a somewhat dingy room occupied by more dust than light, and her world tilted.

An hour later she was writing up an offer and submitting it to the owners of the loft.



Shannon had been to dozens of events like the one Victor had invited her to. From charities to fundraisers, the players may change names, but their motivations were always the same.

Most of the charity dinners were filled with wealthy people who needed the personal and business tax write-offs the events offered. Because they were filled with millionaires dressed in five-thousand-dollar suits or dripping in jewelry, the typical businessman or -woman used the event to make new contacts, schmooze old clients, or otherwise increase their bottom line.

Shannon didn’t think Victor’s event, or motivation, would be any different.

She picked her dress carefully. Something she hadn’t been seen in with Paul, although many of those dresses had been donated shortly after the divorce. She did have a few she pulled out if she thought Paul might be at the event she was attending. Each one of them had a memory of him attached to it. She pushed past several and removed two that she’d purchased while on one of the many First Wives weekends in the past year.

“Conservative? Or lots of skin?” she asked herself aloud.

She approached the full-length mirror wearing only her panties and held each dress up to her frame. The black dress was safer, with a low back that said sexy and a front that said sophisticated.

Then there was the copper sequins with a neckline that plunged so low in the front it would require a little tape to keep her from exposing herself to the room. She thought about Victor’s observation about her being an exhibitionist and him being a voyeur.

The black went back in the closet, and Shannon sat down at her vanity and started to work on her hair. Messy bun, nothing tight and uppity. Free. She went a little heavier on her eyeliner and added those pointy ends that Avery did so well. She slid on a pair of nude strappy Jimmy Choos before stepping into her dress. It took a little yoga to zip up the back, but not as much as usual, since the back was nearly as provocative as the front.

A little tape here and a little tape there.

She turned in a circle, ran a hand over her stomach.

There were perks to her slender frame, and wearing dresses like this one, where the straight lines hugged only the right parts and accentuated her breasts, was one of them.

She finished with a pair of diamond cut curtain earrings that flowed from her ears nearly as much as the dress flowed at her heels. A simple diamond bangle bracelet. No necklace. Eyes would be on her. And if a man’s gaze lingered longer than expected, it wouldn’t be because he was admiring her jewelry.