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5. Sunny

"Doyou want to be intimate, Sunny?"

Do I...?

Something caught in my throat, and a surprising heat washed over me, flushing not only my cheeks but also my entire body.

I was used to being propositioned. Sand and creepy guys—that was pretty much the whole Las Vegas ecosystem.

No, what happened with Vinny that morning hadn"t been a one-off. I"d received plenty of bedroom invites—often accompanied by an offer of money.

But it was always transactional. You do this for me, and I"ll do this for you.

Based on our earlier conversation, I"d expected Cole to make me turn down an even bigger offer. Not ask me directly if I wanted to be intimate. With him. The ruthless CEO everyone called Triple Ice. Understandably.

Though not so much right now. Had I thought Cole"s gaze icy? His pale green eyes burned into mine as he waited for my answer.

What would it be like to sleep with a man like Cole Benton?

The lines of his face were so harsh and sharp—almost cruel. Would they soften if he kissed me? How would his hands feel on my body? Rough, but precise, I imagined. He"d know exactly what he wanted, which made me wonder exactly what he"d want—what he"d do...to me—if I dared to tell him yes.

Wait. No, no, no!

My good sense finally caught up with my runaway imagination.

Okay, obviously, I"d been single for way too long. Apparently, my current sex drought was making my mind go to some seriously inappropriate places.

I averted my eyes from his burning green gaze. "I think it"s probably best if we keep this strictly professional. Don"t you, Mr. Benton?"

Another silence. But this one felt antagonistic. Almost probing.

"Professional it is," he agreed in the end. His voice returned to all-business as he stood up and rounded the desk. "Should we shake on it?"

He stopped right beside my chair, and even though he didn"t command me to stand up, I rose to my feet like a marionette on his strings.

"Sure!" His voice remained reserved, but mine pitched high, like a cartoon character. Ugh. Why could I never be as graceful in real life as I am when there"s a buttload of choreography involved?

Up close, he was taller than I expected. Not that I cared that much about height. My last real boyfriend had been an inch or two shorter than my five eight, and it hadn"t mattered. But Cole Benton towered over me. And he smelled good. Some expensive cologne that brought to mind chalets and private jets.

He was also weirdly magnetic. It was all I could do not to crane my neck back and stare into his pale green eyes as I awkwardly stuck out my hand and squeaked, "Deal?"

"Deal." He smoothly took it, enveloping it in his much larger one for a single, extremely firm shake. One that sent a zap of electricity through me. Up my arm and down to my...

"Okay, well, I"m so glad we can do this for Nora!" I said, shifting a bit to cover up my below-the-waist reaction to his touch. My voice sounded false and overly bright, even to my own ears, and I pulled back on my arm, desperate to put an end to this unexpected live-wire point of contact.

But Cole held on. "You do understand that when…if we"re out in public, we"ll have to act intimate…for my grandmother"s sake?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Thank goodness for my generous dose of melanin. Otherwise, there would have been no way I could have pulled off a casual tone as I answered, "For your grandma. I totally understand, Mr. Benton."

"You should call me Cole." He finally let go of my hand, but only to pluck the ring he had offered me earlier out of the still-open box. "That"s what my fiancée would call me."

This time, he took my left hand and slipped the jewelry onto my wedding finger. "This is Nora"s original engagement ring. She wants you to have it."

"Oh, wow." I couldn"t get over how gorgeous the ring was. One shining emerald on a simple gold band. It looked perfect on my dark-brown finger. Like it had been picked out just for me, even though we were playing pretend.

I bit down on a rising panic. Less than fifteen minutes ago, I"d walked in here with a plan to apologize profusely to Nora Benton, and somehow I"d ended up agreeing to pose as her grandson"s fiancée.

I cleared my throat. Tried to speak. Then had to clear my throat again to choke out, "I understand…Cole."

His name felt like an ice cube in my mouth—awkward and, well…cold. It didn"t escape me that the shortened version of Coleridge was only one letter off from being just that.

"About rehearsal." I cleared my throat again and pulled my no-longer-empty, ringless hand out of his. "How exactly am I supposed to explain this?"

Strangely, this question was the one that finally drained the sexual tension out of our conversation.

"Yes, good question." Cole took a stiff step back, and his green eyes iced over again. "Here"s exactly what you will tell them."

* * *

"What did you do?"Rick demanded for the second time that morning. This time, though, it was in response to me showing up with Nora"s original wedding ring on my hand.

Rick wasn"t the world"s most attentive boss. But apparently, he could spot an engagement ring from across a sixty-foot stage.

"Gossip break!" he screamed, just as Pru and the other topless dancers started descending the stage-center grand staircase in perfect sync for the closing "Viva, Las Vegas!" reprise number with a Happy Lunar New Year message scrolling across the back video wall.

The next thing I knew, the entire thirty-girl cast and quite a few of the stagehands had gathered in front of me for story time. And as much as the Benton Girls liked to complain about having to do anything other than perform in their heavy headpieces and feathered backpacks, no one said a single word about the unexpected holdup as I stuttered through Cole Benton"s completely fabricated story about how we met and fell in whirlwind love.

My cheeks were on fire by the time I was through. The truth was, I was a born dancer. Acting had never been one of my strong suits, and I held my breath, wondering if they would believe me.

But after a moment of shocked silence, Rick was the first to speak. "No wonder you"ve been looking so tired lately. You were running around with Triple Ice this entire time behind my back?"

No, I wasn"t that great of an actress. But to my credit, I did manage not to let out a huge sigh of relief when he said that.

"I wanted to tell you," I answered, lacing my words with all the apology I felt for deceiving him and the rest of my fellow dancers. "But obviously, considering our positions, I had to keep it under the radar. And that"s, um..."

I took a deep breath and made myself finish. "And that"s why I have to resign from my position with the revue, effective today."

A soft cry went up from my fellow Benton Girls, and I gave them all another apologetic wince—well, most of them. I didn"t dare look in Pru"s direction. I could almost feel her wide-eyed gaze on me, practically screaming, "Wait. WHAT?!"

Dara, however, didn"t seem nearly as upset or surprised as the other dancers.

"So you were dating Cole this entire time, and none of us knew?" She gave me a skeptical up-and-down look, her voice tinged with something that sounded like suspicion or jealousy. Knowing Dara, it was probably both. "Not even your best friend, Pru?"

Uh-oh. My stomach threatened to crater. Getting pushback hadn"t been part of the script Cole had given me. I scoured my tiny reservoir of improv skills for a reasonable reply.

"Oh, I knew!" Proving herself the best friend ever, Pru stepped forward before I could burn alive in awkward silence. "I know you were probably too busy trying to get him to look at you. But I could see the way Cole Benton was eyeballing my bestie, even though he was supposed to be there to pick up his grandma. I wasn"t even a little bit surprised when he asked her out. And hey, it"s Sunny, so I"m not shocked that he proposed in under two months. I"m just happy I don"t have to keep on pretending I don"t know about them. That was a tough assignment."

Wow. Nora should have picked Pru as her dying wish. She was so much better at this lying stuff than me.

"Thank you, Pru," I said with a somber nod. "I know it must"ve been so hard to keep that secret."

Pru just flared her eyes back at me in a best-friend look that could easily be translated as, You better call my ass and tell me what"s really going on as soon as you"re free of all these prying eyes.

And on that note...

"Well, I better get going," I told the rest of them awkwardly. "I"ll just let you get back to it."

"Seriously?" Rick protested. "You"re just leaving me in the lurch? I have no idea how I"ll ever replace you. I mean, who"s going to calm down the dancers enough to go on stage after I finish screaming at them?"

"I can do that, along with her solo," Dara volunteered, taking a bold step forward. "I can do whatever Sunny does from now on."

"No, Dara, you cannot," Rick informed her without even bothering to look her way. He pushed on before she could protest. "I"ve got a doozy of a rant I"ve been writing out in my head for weeks, and I"m pretty sure there"s going to be tears from some of the newbies. But how am I supposed to let loose on these greenies for not cutting it if there"s no one to handle backstage mama duties when I"m done?"

"Maybe you could not yell at everybody?" I suggested carefully. "Try validation and encouragement instead?"

Rick just stared at me like I was recommending he self-immolate mid-show.

And I gave in with an, "Okay, well, I think Pru"s ready to take over as the backstage nurturer. I really do."

This time Pru didn"t play along. "Da hell you say?"

"She better be!" Rick declared before she could finish protesting. "Okay, girls, get back in position. Take the final number from the top while I walk Sunny out. Then I"ll be back to scream at you."

"I"m sorry to leave you in the lurch," I told Rick as he walked me toward the lobby doors.

"You should be!" Rick answered with a dramatic huff. "But I suppose we"ll somehow manage to get by without you. Plus, it saves me from having to pretend that I"m not firing you because of your age in a year or two. One less lawsuit to worry about."

"Oh, Rick..."

Rick truly was an awful, awful boss. And I"m sure he wasn"t kidding, like, at all about the rant he"d been planning to make all the newbies cry—or firing me for getting too old. But he"d been my no good, terrible boss for nearly a decade. A wave of bittersweet endearment washed over me as I pulled him in for a warm hug.

"I"m going to miss you so much," I told him, actually meaning it.

"And I"m going to love having another showgirl embedded in the Benton Family." He hugged me back tightly. "That"s the real job security, you know."

But then he pulled back with a consternated look in his eyes. "Go cash in your golden lottery ticket with Triple Ice, but be careful with that one. That man is fine as hell, but he"s not his grandfather. He might not be as easy to wrap around your finger. Negotiate that pre-nup hard, okay, missy? And whatever you do, don"t let your heart get too involved because he"s the kind of shark that will eat you alive."

It wasn"t real. This engagement. My reason for quitting. None of it was real.

Yet, a chill ran down my spine.

"Do you want to be intimate, Sunny?"

Cole"s question echoed through my head, along with the memory of how my body had wanted to give another answer, even as my mouth was telling him no.

Rick is right, I decided as I walked out of the Nora Benton Theatre for the last time as an official Benton Girl.

If I wanted to survive this so-called engagement with my heart intact, I would need to think with my head.

And stay out of Cole Benton"s bed.

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