He gave himself a mental shake. ‘Phoebe is probably dating her childhood sweetheart, Daniel Barnwell, as we speak.’
Aiesha frowned. ‘Doesn’t that upset you? That she moved on so quickly?’
James was pleasantly surprised it didn’t upset him. Not as much as it should have. ‘They’d been dating for years. They’d only broken up a couple of months before I came on the scene.’
She gave him a wry look. ‘Seems I did you a big, fat favour then.’
He searched her features for a beat, wondering if she felt anything of the confusion he was currently feeling. Their relationship was a complex mix of reality and pretence. It felt real when he held her, kissed her, made love to her.
She was a complex mix of reality and pretence.
For years she had been the enemy. She seemed to relish the role, maximising any opportunity to score points against him. She mocked him, laughed at him and goaded him. How much of that was real and how much of it was a defence mechanism? Was she hiding a sweet and sensitive soul behind that brash in-your-face attitude? Or was she too damaged and hardened from the past? What did she think of him, really think of him? Did she care anything for him or was she using him like she used everyone else?
‘What will you do when our relationship comes to an end?’ he asked.
She gave a little shrug of one shoulder. ‘Find a new job. Not in Vegas. Maybe on a cruise ship or something. I might meet someone filthy rich who’ll set me up for life. An old guy who’ll cark it after a few months and leave me all his money.’ She gave him a slanted smile. ‘How cool would that be?’
James locked his jaw. She was at it again. Deliberately pressing his buttons. Game playing. Making him believe she was something she wasn’t. He could see through it now. It was all an act. A charade. ‘You don’t mean that.’
She walked towards the bathroom with her hip-swinging gait. ‘Sure I do.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. ‘You want everyone to think the worst of you because deep down you believe you deserve it. But that’s not who you are, Aiesha. You’re not the bad girl everyone thinks you are. My mother saw through it. I can see through it. Don’t insult me by pretending to be something you’re not.’
Her look was all glittering defiance and her tilted smile all worldly mockery as she stood framed by the bathroom door. ‘You’re a fine one to talk. I might have sent the first tweet but you’re the one who took it a step further by setting up this pretend engagement. At least I have the honesty to call it by its real name. It’s a dirty little fling. A smutty little hook-up.’ Her eyes glinted some more. ‘And you’re loving every filthy minute of it.’
James flinched as she closed the bathroom door with a resounding click.
She was right. God help him.
He was.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN AIESHA CAME out of the bathroom there was no sign of James. But laid out on the king-size bed was a collection of clothes—a midnight-blue velvet cocktail dress and a gorgeous evening gown in black satin with spaghetti-thin straps and long black gloves with a white, fluffy stole. There were shoes and an evening purse and a velvet-lined jewellery tray with a collection of diamond rings. She chose the simplest one, a princess-cut diamond that winked at her as she slipped it on her finger.
A sharp little pain gripped her deep inside her chest. This was another part of the charade. The fancy props that turned her into Cinderella for the ball. She dressed in the velvet cocktail dress, swept her hair up on her head, did her make-up, put on the shoes. Turned in front of the mirror to see how the dress showed off her long legs and trim figure. She wasn’t vain but she knew she looked good. Glamorous and elegant. Polished.
But underneath all the finery she was still a girl from the wrong suburb. With the wrong accent. With the wrong relatives.
She was wrong.
The door of the suite opened and James stood there dressed in a dark grey suit with a white shirt and red and silver tie. Her breath caught. Her heart jumped. Had he ever looked more magnificent? So tall. So sophisticated. So breathtakingly, heart-stoppingly handsome.
‘You look—’ he seemed momentarily lost for words ‘—absolutely gorgeous.’
Aiesha smoothed her hands over her hips. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to eat anything. And you’d better hope and pray I don’t cough or sneeze because I don’t think this zip will be up to it.’
‘Did you choose a ring?’
She held her left hand out for him to inspect. ‘Yep.’
He glanced at the ring before his eyes met hers. Penetrated hers. ‘You didn’t like the others?’