Unsatisfied with my response, she sighs.

  “It’s not right,” I admit. “I can’t make it work.”

  “Because you need me,” she challenges. “You created the world using some of my drawings. We worked on it together.”

  “I lost my muse,” I say, unable to look at her.

  You gave up on me.

  I haven’t been able to work on the game since my friendship with Harley fell apart. It reminds me of our past and the old wounds that tear open every time I look at her sketches. We dreamed up the world together, and now whenever I think about it, my heart aches. I want to smash my fist through the screen when I try to write the code.

  The unfinished game I call Project X is hers as much as it is mine. We made a good team back in the day. Despite her hatred for me, I know my best friend is still inside her somewhere. That girl is begging to come out, waiting to play. I just have to find her.

  “I want my dad to take me seriously. Marrying you isn’t going to make him see me differently. But this game, us working together, could be the one thing that will get him to treat me like everyone else. Like I’m one of the guys.”

  Harley has always wanted to belong. She’s tried her hardest, but tech is a male-dominated field. With the exception of one board member, none of our top-level executives are women. Jonathan is a misogynist who believes men know more about technology, and therefore, women don’t belong in our world.

  “So, what are you proposing?”

  Harley’s eyes meet mine. “I’ll stay married to you until after the deal goes through with Titan Tech if you let me take the lead on the design of your game. Make me your Creative Director.”

  “I don’t want to finish it,” I protest. “It doesn’t even have a name.”

  Harley throws her hands on her hips, drawing my eyes to her delicious curves. “I don’t want to marry you, Nate, but we can’t always get what we want.”

  Chapter Seven

  Harley

  I have to marry Nate. What choice do I have? If I walk away from him, I might as well resign from the company now. Because we won’t have a company to run by next year.

  Nate extends his hand to me, acting like a civilized adult for a change. “Do we have a deal?”

  I can handle three months of marriage to Nate. After we close the deal with Titan Tech, we can have this sham marriage annulled and go our separate ways. No one would be surprised that our relationship didn’t work out.

  “Some of my demands are non-negotiable,” I tell him. “I still want to wear the dress I designed, and I want a sapphire and diamond engagement ring.”

  “You can have both of those things,” he says without hesitation.

  “I want to choose the ring, and I want a real proposal.”

  Nate’s jaw drops, and then he picks it back up. He clears his throat and tugs on his tie. “Let’s get you settled in tonight, and then tomorrow, I’ll take you to the jewelry store.”

  I give him the cheesiest smile on the planet. “And you’ll get down on one knee?”

  “Sure.” He sighs. “Whatever you want.”

  I shake his hand. “Then, we should go over the terms of our agreement. In exchange for bailing your sorry ass out of this mess, I will be your fake wife—”

  “Technically,” he interrupts, “you’ll be my real wife, legally speaking.” I roll my eyes and Nate adds, “You’ll be my future ex-wife. Better?”

  I nod. “Like I was saying, I will marry you in exchange for the Lead Creative Director position, which means I get full control over the creation of every storyboard and character without any help from your team.”

  “Done,” he says, confident.

  “One more thing…” I hold up my finger. “You have to finish the game.”

  He frowns. “I’ll do my best.”

  “You will finish it,” I shoot back.

  Nate’s had a mental block with his game since high school. One of the characters is a mixture of Lara Croft and me. I drew the woman I wanted to become, vicariously living through the animations Nate created with his code.

  “Fine,” he says with a wicked smirk. “But I have one condition.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “What?”

  “You have to work on the game with me.”

  “It’s your code.”

  “You’re my muse. I can’t do this without you.”

  Nate slides his long fingers down my arm. The sudden contact sends a shiver down my spine, making me warm and tingly all over. My head spins whenever Nate is around. He sucks up all of the air in the room, his manly scent and overwhelming charm all-consuming.

  I have to forget about the old Nate, my Nate.

  He’s no longer that boy.

  “And I need my Queen,” he says in a husky voice.

  His Queen…

  This time, he’s not referring to my last name. Damn him. Nate always knows the right things to say. When we were kids, we loved role playing. Nate’s dad bought us crowns, scepters, and long velvet robes with fur collars, fit for royalty. Richard even helped us make a dais out of plywood and outdoor carpeting, complete with black wooden thrones that sat at equal height. Because I was his equal, his Queen.

  Back then, we were partners. We trusted each other. No one could ever defeat us when we worked together. Maybe, if we can put our differences aside, we might convince the world of our lie. Failure is not an option. If anyone were to discover our marriage is a sham, we will lose more than our company. Our families would become the laughingstock of the tech world.

  I lean my back against the sink, needing to create some space between us. “What would being your muse entail?”

  Nate’s green eyes gleam under the fluorescent lights. “It means you’d have to work closely with me.” He brushes his fingers down my arm, sliding them down my skin until his hand is resting on my hip. “You’d have to work under me.”

  I press my palm to his hard chest, but that only eggs him on. Nate loves it when I fight him, when I make him work for every second he gets to spend with me. I know it turns him on. Hell, our sexual banter and snarky comments turn me on, too. After some of our past conversations, I couldn’t get him out of my head. Even long after I’d slipped under the covers, I couldn’t stop thinking of what he would do to me if given the chance. On those nights, I truly hated myself. Because I hated that Nate had an effect on me.

  “You’d have to help me get through the hard parts,” he says in a tone so sexy I almost moan. “Help me with each stroke…” Nate drags out the words but doesn’t finish his thought.

  Are we still talking about computers?

  Holy hell, I need to have sex if I’m going to be around Nate this much. I have limited my exposure to him over the years for this reason. He does this to me every time we’re alone, always with the upper hand. I’m the one woman he’s wanted and never had. I know that it drives him crazy. And it will stay that way… for as long as I can resist him.

  I trail my fingers up his chest and he groans. “You want me to help stroke your ego or the keys?”

  Nate’s chest rises and falls against my hand, his heart beating so fast it mirrors mine.

  The corner of his mouth turns up into an evil smirk. “A little bit of both.” He presses his lips to my ear, and the heat from his breath makes me tremble. “I have something even bigger than my ego for you to stroke.”

  I feel his lips curve into a smile when I shiver from his touch. His eyes find mine once more. Doing my best to still my breathing, I hold his gaze. He wets his bottom lip with his tongue, rolling it playfully to gain a reaction from me.

  Sex is a game to Nate.

  He uses it to his advantage.

  “Do you really think this will work on me?” I press both palms to his chest and give him a good shove.

  Nate takes the hint, though I swear he looks even wilder. Nate likes to dominate as much as he likes to be dominated. That’s why he likes me so much. The constant struggle for power gets our blood pumping. My heart slams into my ribcage, pounding so loud and fast my ears are ringing.

  Nate can see me sweat.

  He loves it, craves it even.

  “I know it works on you,” he counters.

  “If we’re going to do this, we need rules. We have to set boundaries.”

  “You’re going to be my wife. Why would we need rules?”

  “I’ll be your wife on paper,” I point out. “This isn’t a marriage in any other sense.”

  “No?” He scratches the dark stubble along his jaw as he inspects me, waiting to see if I’ll crack under the pressure. “Because I’m pretty sure your panties are soaking wet right now. And I plan to consummate this marriage.”

  I gasp at his words. “Nate…”

  He smirks. “You know I’m right. If I were to slide my hand beneath this skirt that’s been driving me fucking crazy from the second I saw you in it,” he says as he runs his hand up the side of my thigh. “I bet I’d find my proof. Wouldn’t I?”

  “You’re not getting any of the perks of a real marriage,” I say, keeping my tone level. “It’s on paper only. Take it or leave it.”

  His fingers burn everywhere he touches. And when he moves his hand to fix his tie, I let out a sigh of relief.

  “I’ll take it,” he says. “But trust me, Harley baby, you won’t make it one night in my bed without giving in.”

  I snicker at his comment. “I’m not sleeping in your bed.”

  He laughs. “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  * * *

  Seconds after we told our families about the engagement, my father was on the phone with Danika Kane. I was hoping for a sit down with my father, but our publicist appeared before I could say eggs benedict. So much for the breakfast my dad promised.

  Danika works wonders. She’s proven her worth dozens of times over the years. If anyone can make this marriage look real, she can. We usually shoot greenscreens for video games in Studio D. But today, the room is filled with various backdrops, lighting umbrellas, and a full crew of cameramen. Everyone buzzes around us, the room brought to life by the overworked staff.

  A woman with spiky black hair and thick eyeliner dabs at Nate’s cheek with a powder puff the size of my hand. He looks uncomfortable, wincing every time she presses it against his face. Nate is a pretty boy, with his chiseled features and effortless good looks, but he’s not used to being pampered. He hates when strangers touch him. I learned that the hard way when I made him come to the nail salon with me in eighth grade. He cringed the entire time, cursing me under his breath until we left. From that day forward, I promised to do girly things alone.

  Nate glances over at me on occasion, making it a point to touch me in some way. This time, his fingers graze the side of my boob. I shoot a wicked look at him.

  “Sorry,” he says with zero emotion in his voice.

  When he turns back toward the makeup girl, I swear he smirks. His accidental grazes are intentional. Everything Nate does serves a purpose. This is going to be the longest fake marriage of my life.

  “You know what to say, right?” Danika asks me for the hundredth time. She presses her pink lips together and smears her gloss into place. “Do I need to run the script with you again?”

  I shake my head. “Nope, I got this. If we rehearse my lines another time, I might blow my brains out.”

  Danika gives me a cheeky grin, though she looks a little irritated by my attitude. “And you, Little King?” She looks at Nate, shifting her hands to her hips. Paired with leather boots, her black dress stops mid-thigh, hugging her slim body. “You’re the one everyone needs to believe. I expect you to be on your A-game.”

  “I’m good.” Nate adjusts his lapels with his eyes fixed on me. “I can handle a few reporters.”

  “He’s a professional liar,” I quip, which earns me a chuckle from Danika. “If anyone can spin a web of bullshit people will believe, it’s Nate.”

  “Aww, well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” He stares at me, his green irises shining. “Play nice, wifey, or I’ll have to spank you.” The bastard winks.

  Laughing, I smack his backside, and Nate grabs my ass in response. I swat his hand for the tenth time since we stepped into this room. He drags his teeth along his bottom lip to taunt me.

  “The media won’t have a hard time believing you two are together.” Danika waves her hand at us and a string of gold bracelets on her wrist jingle. “You already act like you’re married. And you make a cute couple. I would totally believe you’re together.” She brushes her long hair away from her face as she studies us. “This should be the easiest lie I’ve ever had to sell.”

  “That’s what happens after close to thirty years of friendship,” Nate says.

  “You can’t count the time we spent apart,” I challenge.

  After our senior prom, our friendship took a serious and unexpected turn. Nate distanced himself from me, spending more time with other girls at school. I had no idea what to think, and when I moved to Rhode Island for art school, and Nate went to Cambridge to study programming, things got even weirder. We were a short drive from each other, and even saw each other some weekends, but it didn’t last long.

  Eventually, we stopped returning each other’s phone calls in a timely manner and signals got crossed. Frustrated one night, I drove to MIT and saw him with another girl. He looked happy, we were barely friends anymore, and I decided to let him go. I applied to UCLA the next day, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. From that day forward, our lives changed. No more Nate and Harley.

  Deep frown lines etch into Nate’s tanned skin. “C’mon, Harley. Stop being petty and just go with the flow, would ya?”

  Standing up straight, I clear my throat and hold his gaze. “I was only stating a fact.”

  He can’t control me.

  This is my choice to marry him.

  It’s a win-win situation.

  Nate gets out of hot water, the company remains intact, and I finally get to take the lead on one of his brilliant designs. For once, Harley McQueen will appear in the credits of a video game. I’ve waited years to see that happen. And for years, my father had insisted my talents were better suited to the marketing team. Until now…

  Danika lines us up in front of a tropical background, ignoring the photographer, who looks irritated. “Closer,” she says, tugging on our shoulders. “Act like you like each other.”

  “We don’t,” I counter.

  “Speak for yourself, Queen.” Nate cups my face with his big hand. “I like you just fine.”

  I peel his fingers from my face. “Keep your hands to yourself, King.”

  “You know you like it.” He winks.

  Teeth gritted, I give him a look that could cut through steel. “Wait until we get out of here.”

  “Ooh.” He leans into me with his hard body. “You going to punish me?” Nate wets his lips. “Because I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “You’re such a child,” I shoot back.

  “What I want to do to you is very adult,” he challenges.

  “Seriously?” I stare up at him, hands balled into fists at my sides. “I can kick your ass. I’ve done it before.”

  He chuckles. “That was one time, and you took me off guard.”

  “Admit it.” I grin like an idiot. “My Judo lessons paid off. And I embarrassed you.”

  “I was drunk on skunked cans of Bud Light. It wouldn’t have taken much.”

  I roll my shoulders. “So. I still beat you.”

  For years, I tried to wrestle with Nate but never won. So, I begged my dad to let me take Judo lessons. A year of training gave me an advantage, and as I grew stronger, I could overpower Nate. He would jokingly pin me down with his strong arms and cover my body with his. Nate made every effort to touch me, except then he pretended we were gladiators, fighting the Greek army. Now that I’m older, I realize he was flirting with me. But I was that girl, the tomboy who didn’t know how to act like a girl. It never even occurred to me until years later that Nate liked me in unfriendly ways.

  “Like this,” Danika says as she turns us. “And stop fighting, please. You need to look like you’re in love, not lust.”

  “This is my set,” the photographer reminds her, with his camera in hand.

  “And they’re my clients,” she spits back with fire behind her words. “Their engagement announcement must make a statement. People need to fall in love with them.”

  “My set.” The photographer, a middle-aged man who barely speaks English, shoos her away with his hand. “My rules. If you don’t like them, I will have you removed.”

  No one tells Danika what to do, which makes me laugh. Even Nate follows suit. Our loud mouth publicist is used to dishing it out, but she’s not used to getting it back. She terrifies most people, even grown men. But she’s the best in the business. Without Danika to diffuse delicate situations, the Titan Tech deal would be dead in the water. And because of her genius plan, Queen Takes King still has a fighting chance.

  Danika scowls at the photographer. They share a quick moment, the heat between them close to melting my damn skin. Danika tips her head without another complaint, and her hair falls in front of her eyes. She pushes it away from her face and then steps to the side. Her assistant ambushes her, leaning over to whisper into her ear. A second later, Danika is on her cell phone, no longer worrying about us.

  “This isn’t working.” The photographer snaps his fingers at us. “I need to feel it. And if I don’t feel it, no one will. Act like you’re in love.”

  Easier said than done.

  While he doesn’t know we’re not together for real, it must show. Nate won’t stop copping cheap feels, and I keep swatting his hand away. It’s not easy going from sort of enemies to fake lovers overnight. We have to work into that phase of our relationship.

  Nate slides his hand behind my back and digs his fingers into my side, pulling me closer. “If you can’t pretend for the cameras, how the hell will you get through the interviews?”

  I nudge him in the ribs with my elbow and then stand up straight, with my eyes on the photographer. “Unlike you, I’m a professional.”