Page 6 of The Fiancé Hoax

And now that I thought about it, a platinum-blonde wig wasn’t the best way to blend in.

Cooper went to the stone wall and turned toward me and Lauren.

“Ready?” he asked.

I frowned. “You’re going to climb over the wall?”

“We all are. You don’t want to walk through that party, do you?” He smirked. “Your dad might see you.”

I blinked. “How did you know—”

He extended his hand toward me. “Here, I’ll help you over so you don’t twist an ankle this time.”

2

COOPER

Felicity Hayes was like nothing I’d imagined.

Her father, Marsh, hardly spoke of her. But when he did, I got the impression she was a spoiled, clueless brat.

The young woman I just met was nothing like that. She was smart, competent, and passionate.

A little scattered and clumsy, yes.

But sexy as hell.

And totally off-limits.

Which was why it was wrong of me to imagine pulling that dress up around her waist and burying myself between her legs.

Yep, very wrong.

But as I waited for her to arrive at the diner, I could think of nothing else.

This was just a business meeting like any other. We’d discuss a potential investment—nothing more.

Get her tight little body out of your damn head.

I gulped down the rest of my ice water, trying to banish the image of her straddling that wall from my head.

I’d seen pictures of Felicity in Marsh’s office. But she was a kid in those framed photos—an awkward teenager.

When had she grown up into a stunning young woman?

Okay, she was a woman who wore goofy wigs and snuck into her dad’s parties.

I’d fucked with her just a little by pretending I didn’t know who she was at first. I couldn’t resist. It was too much fun.

Outside, an ancient Plymouth sedan pulled into a parking spot. The driver parked and turned off the headlights. Felicity stepped out of the car and rummaged in the backseat for a stack of sketchbooks.

She moved across the parking lot in her blonde wig and long blue gown, fumbling with the purse and books she carried. She was alone this time. I’d have her all to myself.

As she hurried toward the entrance, Felicity stumbled and dropped one of the sketchbooks. A stack of papers flew out, carried by a gust of wind.

I heard her yelp as she chased them down, giving me a prime view of her heart-shaped ass.

Ripe, delicious, and full. The type of ass that could drive a man crazy.