I leap to my feet alongside my mother, trying to ignore the jittery nerves plaguing me when I realize Perry is standing right there. Right in front of us.
Directly in front of me.
My throat is so dry it’s difficult for me to swallow and I try to catch his gaze. Hopefully communicate with him silently that I’m just as much a pawn in this as I’m sure he is.
But he just glares down at the floor, reminding me of a sulking toddler.
“Perry.” His mother slaps him in the chest, causing him to jolt and lift his head. “This is Louisa Lancaster.”
“A pleasure,” my mother practically purrs as she offers her hand to him, making me inwardly wince.
Perry shakes her hand, almost immediately releasing it the moment their palms connect. “Nice to meet you.”
“And this is my daughter, Charlotte,” Mother says as she turns to look at me, an encouraging smile on her face, her gaze pleading for me to behave.
I nod once at Caroline, taking her hand when she extends her arm in my direction. “Hello.” I barely look her in the eye, suddenly intimidated.
“Lovely,” Caroline murmurs, loud enough for me to hear her. I’m sure that was on purpose, though I don’t understand why. “You’ll do. You’ll do just fine.”
Ignoring her strange comment, I focus all of my attention on Perry, lifting my head to find him already watching me. Anger blazes from those intense blue eyes, his hands in his pockets, his stance casual.
Deceiving.
He’s mad. Furious even. Looks like someone wants this marriage just about as much as I do.
“Perry,” I say to him, taking a step forward and rising up on tiptoe so I can brush my lips against his cheek. It’s faintly scratchy, as if he couldn’t be bothered to shave, and holy hell, the man smells divine. “It’s so good to meet you, my beloved.”
I take a step back, a little wobbly on my feet thanks to the extraordinarily high heels I’m wearing. I watch him carefully, waiting for my sarcastic comment to hit. He knew I was faking, right? By calling him beloved?
He must.
“Finally, we meet.” He smiles, revealing a fine set of straight white teeth. That smile changes his entire mood, and he looks like the happy-go-lucky partier I saw when I googled him a few nights ago. “It’s been far too long.”
Wait a second—he’s going along with my façade?
“Forever,” I say, a squeal leaving me when he sweeps me into his arms, holding me extremely close. I stiffen for a moment at the intimacy of the embrace. My hands are on his very firm chest, as if I’m about to push him away and my lower body is pressed far too close to his.
I wrench myself out of his embrace, glaring at him as I wipe my sweaty palms on the hot-pink skirt of my over-the-top, frothy-like-a-pastry dress.
His eyes are full of appreciation as they drift down, taking me in. I school my features as if his blatant staring doesn’t affect me whatsoever. That’s my normal mode of operation. Pretend everything is well and good, even when it’s not.
When I finally dare look into Perry’s eyes again, I see that they’re still blazing with emotion. Not as much anger anymore, though.
No, now I see interest there. Intrigue. Curiosity.
I feel the same about him.
I will never let him see it though.
“Let’s sit,” Mother announces.
We both settle back into our chairs as Caroline and Perry sit across from us. His legs are so long and our table is so narrow that his knees bump into mine once.
Then again, sending a shockwave rippling through me.
Just from his knee touching mine.
“Sorry,” he says clearly, one side of his mouth quirked up the slightest bit.
“Sorry for what, dear?” his mother asks, turning to look at him with an adoring gaze. I wonder if he’s her favorite.
I wonder what that feels like.
“I keep bumping into my fiancée,” he says, waving at me with long, elegant fingers. I wish I could grab his hand and study those rings. They’re…interesting. “Under the table.”
Caroline turns her gaze upon me. “You’ll have to excuse my son. He doesn’t mean to be so clumsy.”
“He already apologized,” I say, wondering why she said that. Does she think it’s her job to speak for him? He’s a grown man.
Weird.
The mothers chat while I study the menu, sneaking glances at Perry every few seconds. I can sense him doing the same, though every time I glance up, his blond head is bent, his long eyelashes making me the tiniest bit jealous as he scans the open menu in front of him. At one point I’m openly staring at him and he lifts his head, his arresting blue eyes meeting mine and I just gape at him for a moment.
“Have you eaten here before?” he asks, lifting a brow.
I don’t like men who can lift a brow like that. Men who are handsome and know it, men who exude confidence, radiate arrogance. They can’t be trusted.
No man can. Not really.
“No,” I finally answer. “Can’t say that I have.”
“Me either.” He slaps his menu shut. “Been engaged before?”
“Can’t say that I’ve done that either,” I answer him, my voice light. Like this is a completely normal conversation. “How about you?”
“I haven’t even been in a serious relationship,” he retorts, leaning back in his chair in a rather insolent way.
Ugh. He’s too attractive. Too comfortable in his own skin, which I find completely aggravating.
“Same.” I carefully close my menu, resting my linked hands on top of it. “We need to figure out a way to talk. Communicate without…”
I tilt my head in the mothers’ direction.
He nods once, his expression impassive. “Open communication will help us.”
“Definitely.” I hesitate for only a moment. “I get the sense that you’re not particularly agreeable with this—situation.”
“I don’t necessarily agree with it, no.”
My shoulders practically sag with relief. “Me either. It’s the very last thing I want to do. I’m too young.”
“So am I.” His gaze narrows. “I don’t even know you.”
“I don’t know you either. I won’t settle for marrying a stranger.”
“They say the contract has already been signed.” He leans forward, as if he’s about to offer a delicious secret. “And it’s ironclad.”
That wasn’t delicious. In fact, that was downright unappealing, what he just shared. “We’re involved in this contract, yet we didn’t sign anything?”
“Oh, that’s coming,” Perry says with all that self-assuredness only an overconfident man would display. “I’ve seen the documents. We’ll have to sign all kinds of things, including an NDA.”
Of course, there’s an NDA. Can’t worry about us blabbing all the family secrets to the media.
“What if I refuse?” I raise my brows.
He shifts forward again, resting his forearms on the table, his face coming closer and closer, until I can smell him again. It should be criminal, to smell as good as this man does. “They won’t let you refuse. You’re stuck with me.”