She kept talking. “But when we were walking down the hall upstairs I realized I couldn’t deceive you that way, especially after everything you’ve done for me, and because . . . I guess because I like you, and the idea of lying to you about this for weeks made me feel like an enormous asshole. So that’s what was wrong up there, that’s why I turned around and made you come back to the suite—” “That’s why you were almost running back to the elevator, because you didn’t want the photographer to catch us?” He’d noticed that part, too. “Yeah.” Ben nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Anna expected him to get up and walk out the door. Instead, a grin spread across his face. “So your only problem with doing this was deceiving me? Okay. Now I’m in on it. Let’s do it.” Anna sat back on the couch and stared at him. “What? Are you . . . really?” Ben’s grin got wider. “You want a pretend boyfriend for a month? I can be your pretend boyfriend for a month. I don’t have anything to do next weekend; I’ll come to L.A. This sounds like a blast.” He stood up. “Let’s go back upstairs and make sure that photographer sees us.” Anna didn’t move. “Wait. Ben. Don’t you want to think about this? I didn’t expect . . . I didn’t expect you to want to do this. Won’t this fuck stuff up for you at work?” He thought about that for a second. “Good point. I’ll talk to my boss—as long as I tell her in advance, it’ll be okay. Plus, the client is thrilled about how well this ad campaign went, which means everyone in the office is thrilled with me. I might have to fudge the time line a little, but it’ll work out. See, there we go, problem solved.” The doorbell chimed. “Room service!” Damn it. She’d forgotten about room service. She went to the door to let them in. “Shall I open the champagne, Ms. Gardiner?” the waiter asked as he set up the food on the coffee table. Anna looked at Ben, who shook his head. Maybe he’d reconsidered already. “No, thanks,” she said. She scribbled her signature on the bill and added a hefty tip. By the time the door closed behind the waiter, though, Ben had already picked up the bottle and was pulling off the foil top. “Room service is great, but why let someone else have the fun of opening a bottle of champagne?” he asked. He popped the bottle and then filled two glasses. “How about it, Ms. Gardiner?” Ben handed her a glass. “Do we have a deal?” If he wanted to do this, who was she to argue? “We have a deal, Mr. Stephens.” They looked into each other’s eyes as they clinked glasses. Ben took a long sip and then buttoned up his shirt. “Can we still make it for that photographer? I don’t want to spoil Simon’s plan.” Anna laughed and checked her watch. Incredibly, it was barely eight thirty. “We can still make it. But we can also wait to do that part later, now that I’m not trapping you into this.” Ben shook his head. “No time like the present, like my mom always says. How do I look? Am I wrinkled?” She grinned as she looked him over. She was in a much better mood about doing this now. “You look perfect.” He took her arm and stopped right before they opened the door. “Wait. One quick question. If the answer to this is no, I won’t change my mind, just so you know—I just want to temper my expectations. But . . . do we still get to have sex?” Anna laughed out loud. “God yes. As long as that’s okay with you?” Ben backed her up against the door and kissed her hard. “What do you think?” Anna breathed him in, let her hands trace over his arms and chest. She kissed his collarbone, his cheek, his lips. Damn, being with him felt so good. “I think I don’t want to go back upstairs.” Ben kissed her again, then backed away. “Oh no, Ms. Gardiner, you’re not getting out of this that quickly. Let’s go.” He opened the door with a flourish, and she grinned at him as she stepped into the hallway.
Thirteen