Free Her Faux Fiancé by Alexia Adams Page A

least the Erik-inhabited portion of it.
    Didn’t they say the way to get over one man was to get under another? Although, that had the potential to end in even greater disaster. And there were few places left for her to run. Anywhere in Africa or the Middle East was out of the question; the French government was still investigating whether she was involved in her former fiancé’s activities, so her passport was undoubtedly flagged.
    At least having pawned Jean-Claude’s engagement ring, she now was semi-solvent. But the pawn shop had only been able to give her a fraction of its worth, so she was nowhere near being able to pay off Erik. Which meant she’d have to stick around, at least until her name was cleared. She was still debating whether to tell Erik the full story and ask for his help or not.
    She pushed open the door to the room Erik had booked and smiled. Prairie Boy didn’t do things by half. It was more than a room—she stepped into a luxury suite. She kicked off her shoes and let her toes sink into the soft carpet. She had less than half an hour, though, to dress for dinner, so she went in search of her shopping bags. Hopefully, one of the dresses she’d bought would be suitable for the fancy restaurant.
    Spread out on the bed was a beautiful designer dress, together with some wispy underwear and the most gorgeous pair of black Louboutin shoes she’d seen. Having lived in combat boots for the past four years, she’d never had much of a shoe fetish, but these babies were enough to make her start one.
    Despite telling herself a hundred times that she wasn’t going to fall in with whatever nefarious scheme Erik had planned, she put on the dress and slipped on the shoes. She did a twirl and then glanced in the mirror. Not bad. The heels gave her some height, and the dress showed off her curves to the best advantage. She felt like a woman again.
    Except her stomach was as full of butterflies as if she were going on her first date. Did he expect that after celebrating their fake engagement with dinner they’d move on to the champagne, strawberries, and whipped cream festivities?
    Would she object if he did?
    She still hadn’t decided when she approached the entrance to the Palm Room Lounge. Wearing a whisper of red silk and chiffon, teetering on a pair of stilettos, she was overdressed and underdressed at the same time.
    Before she could spy Erik in the darkened interior, he appeared at her side. He’d changed into a dark suit, a crisp white shirt, and a bright red tie that matched her dress. She hadn’t thought he could look better than in fitted jeans and a t-shirt. She’d been wrong.
    “You are stunning,” he whispered into her ear as he led her to a quiet table tucked against the far wall. He brushed a kiss against her temple as he pushed in her chair. Damn, the man smelled good, too.
    “I thought I told you I wasn’t a doll, Prairie Boy,” she said as he sat opposite her. Unfortunately, the breathiness of her voice turned the rebuke into more of a sexy come-on, making it sound like she wasn’t to be dressed but rather undressed.
    “And yet you put it on?” He ignored her glare and ran his index finger over the knuckles of her clenched fist.
    “I guess there’s a woman in me somewhere who still likes pretty things.” She shrugged, trying to ignore the soft caress of the material against her skin. And Erik’s one finger that was wreaking havoc with her control.
    “You’re all woman, Analise. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. A strong, beautiful woman.” The heat of his gaze set off warm tingles over her exposed skin. Mesmerized by his eyes, she didn’t notice the waiter had appeared beside the table until he spoke.
    “May I take your drinks order?”
    Forcing herself to look away from Erik, she gave the waiter a small smile. “Just an orange juice for me.”
    “We’re celebrating—wouldn’t you rather have champagne?” Erik asked.
    “I’ll stick with the juice.” Her