Chapter 69: My Dark Prince: Chapter 68

“Is she teaching us how to sing or how to birth a baby whale the size of an office building?”

At my words, the vocal teacher whipped her head around and glared before leaving the room for a quick bathroom break.

Oops. I thought she’d already left. Not my fault. I could barely breathe on account of the fact that Briar and I had spent the past fifteen minutes practicing “control,” which basically translated into a competition of who could hold their breaths longer. If anything, with her competitive spirit, she resembled Seb more than I did.

From across the tiny studio, Briar grinned at me. “We need to trust the process.”

Behind her, signed posters of Broadway shows decorated every surface, along with framed awards and certificates. Apparently, our instructor was some hot shot.

I didn’t even remember her name. Jillian or Jessica. Something with a J, at any rate. I was too focused on the fact that my fake fiancée – or my real one, depending how well my plan worked – looked downright edible as she focused on the task. Her lips would pucker and move each time she sucked in a breath.

I always knew I was a horny bastard, but getting turned on by one’s ability to breathe was a new one for me.

Oh, and yes, I was willing to marry Briar if it meant keeping her.

I wasn’t completely sure how I felt for her – was it love? Fondness? Eagerness? Relief after fifteen years of grief? Whatever it was, I believed with absolute, beyond-any-doubt certainty that no one else would scratch the surface like she did.

“And be patient, too.” Briar retied her high-top bun, holding the elastic band between her teeth. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“Our wedding is in a few months.” I forced myself to tear my eyes away from the elegant curve of her neck as she secured her bun with the band. “Unless we’re going to surgically implant Lin Manuel Miranda and Mariah Carey’s vocal cords into our throats by then …”

“I mean, is the option completely off the table? You are filthy rich.”

“I’ve been known to buy less-than-orthodox things in my lifetime.”

“Yeah?” She eyed me. “Like what?”

Like everything.

Other than her love, I’d never earned anything of true value. It was all just money. The only thing I had worth keeping – Briar herself – I’d lost. And I carried that knowledge, that failure, with me everywhere I went. Some regrets became shadows, lingering in the darkness wherever you go.

“Oh, you know. The usual.” I shrugged. “Prime blood transfusions, one-of-a-kind dinosaur skulls, and a fleet of full-grown tigers.”

“I see everything circles back to the trafficked exotic animals you keep in your secret wing.”

Truly, I applauded her restraint. I didn’t know if I’d wield the same level if someone told me they had a top-secret area I absolutely could not enter, under no circumstances.

“For the last time, they are not trafficked. They are perfectly still. I am half-tempted to take you there right now and show you they’re chilling, happy as clams in their cages. The Tiger King wishes he were me.”

She bit down on her lower lip, suppressing a laugh.

This seemed like the perfect time to cash in my bet prize. Actually, every time seemed like the perfect time. I wanted to reach over and kiss her. To strip her. To drag my lips from her mouth all the way down to her toes. To bury my face between her legs and get lost in her. I was stupid for this woman. A perfect dumbass. Not a pretend one, this time. For real.

And I. Did. Not. Care.

But no. I wouldn’t use my prize until the right time.

We stared at each other for a beat, thinking the same thing.

“So.” Briar shook her head, clearing her throat. “The wedding is going to take place and so will the duet.”

“And the dance. Don’t forget the dance.”

“It’s going to be embarrassing,” she warned. “That’s the point, though. It’s a feature. Not a bug.”

Silly Cuddlebug, I wanted to laugh. You can never embarrass me.

The teacher opened the door. The unholy number of bracelets that clung to her wrist clanged together in a symphony of metal, announcing her arrival.

“I’m back,” she sing-songed. “Did you have a chance to practice your aural skills?”

“Twice a day.” I threw a thumb in Briar’s direction. “And that’s on a bad day when she just wants quickies.”

My fake fiancée immediately went red, but the teacher laughed.

“Oh, my goodness.” Jillian-Jessica fanned herself. “This one’s a keeper, isn’t he?”

“Honey, for the last time, it’s not about the number of times, it’s about the skill.” Briar patted my arm with a condescending smile, before throwing the teacher a grave look. “He goes at it like a dog with a bone who hasn’t eaten at all this year.”

I choked-coughed into my fist. “I’ve heard no complaints about my performance.”

“That’s because you like shoving your dirty underwear into my mouth. By the way, I’d love it if you could stop.”

Holy shit. She was trying to out-embarrass me. Beat me at my own game. It was impossible, of course. I had a Ph.D. in being crass. No one could out-crass me.

“Light of my life.” I caressed her shoulder, and she shivered under my fingertips, just like I knew she would. “They’re called kitchen towels, and you’re not supposed to eat them. We’ll get you civilized, though. You’re almost there. Almost.” I flashed our teacher a winning smile. “She’s fully potty trained and already knows how to sing her ABCs, thanks to Ms. Rachel. Can you believe she’s the same woman who lost her memory just a few weeks ago and reverted to her 18-month-old self?”

The vocal coach drew a hand to her chest with a dreamy sigh. Briar growled, stomping on my toes. A low grumble danced in my stomach.

“Okay, where were we?” The teacher looked around, disoriented. “Oh, yes. We were going to work on our humming.”

We did that for the rest of the hour. Humming. Moaning. Groaning. Grunting. Briar remained the color of a ripe strawberry the entire time. When we finished, she slid into the passenger seat and buckled up.

As soon as the teacher waved goodbye through the window, Briar’s easy smile morphed into a scowl.

Still determined to hate me, I see.

“I’m going to New York tomorrow,” she announced.

“I believe you meant we are going to New York,” I corrected her. “No way am I leaving my gorgeous fiancée to fall prey to city fuckboys unattended.”

“Aw.” She flashed me a fake smile. “How gross. Well, this is for work. I’m meeting the two actors I’ll be working with on my next project, and I need to be completely focused to make sure I meet their needs and boundaries. As you can see, I’m fine and fully functioning.” She motioned to where her wound used to be. “No reason for us to continue this charade when people aren’t looking, just to piss each other off.”

“I’m not doing this to piss you off.” I frowned, starting the car. “It’s just a really nice bonus.”

With a sigh, she popped the glove compartment open and grabbed some gum. “Either way, you are not coming.”

“Joke’s on you. I just did from watching you merely breathe.”

“Gross.”

“Romantic.”

“Just tell me you understand that you absolutely cannot come to New York tomorrow, okay? The production company booked me a hotel for an overnight stay.”

“My driver will take you,” I bargained without really answering her question. No way would I not check in on her. The woman just woke up from a coma.

She opened her mouth, about to argue, before realizing I’d never back down. “Fine. So, you won’t come?”

“Did I ever tell you that you look pretty today?”

“Stop dodging. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Great.”

“Fucking fabulous.”