She was crazy if she thought a table was going to protect her.
Turning all the cards face up, he gave it to her straight. “Moira made the suggestion and Mickey accepted for you.” He winced without letting it show, appalled at his clumsy words.
“Moira Kennedy? Oh my god, Edward. Moira?”
She wasn’t ready but needed to know what was happening next. Using the drip-drip-drip method of imparting information would never work with Paige.
Moving toward he, he laid it out. “Yeah, Moira Kennedy. And she’s on her way here, Paige. We can’t wait. The story is getting out ahead of us as it is. It’s now or never, babe.”
“There has to be another way,” she pleaded.
Putting his arms around her was self-serving but he did it anyway. Now that he knew what it felt like to hold her close, he wanted to explore those feelings. Only the fucked-up-ness of their present situation stopped him from going further.
Some part of Edward knew they were at a crucial moment in their relationship. What he was asking of her was a lot, but hidden in the request being made on the pretext of calming a career crisis was the ultimate in self-serving wants. Paige herself.
He wanted her and wasn’t averse to pinning her down in any way he could.
With an arm around her waist, he held her fantastic body against him and feathered his fingers down the side of her face.
“Will you marry me, Paige?”
She lowered her forehead onto his chest and mumbled, “You’re killing me.”
When she looked up again and met his eyes, she solemnly asked, “Who’s asking? Edward or Gideon?”
Ouch.
What the friggin’ hell was going on? Was she being Punk’d? That had to be it because although this really couldn’t be happening, somehow it was.
They’d stumbled into a Hollywood nightmare of sexual depravity, drugs, money, and power.
As if that wasn’t enough of a movie plot, Gideon, or rather Edward by way of Gideon, was being offered a brass ring. The winning jackpot, the genie in a bottle, all wrapped up into an arrangement where for his silence he was going to get his dream opportunity—to direct. Going behind the camera was really what he wanted and here was that very opportunity being dangled in front of him.
But it wasn’t enough for Gideon Shaw to simply play along. To protect Phaedra Bellamy, he was agreeing to let the sex tape thing play out one more time and laugh off Joann’s suggestion of involvement. He would just keep his head down till a new scandal distracted everyone and they could finally put it behind them.
And that was where Moira came in. She could spin the most deplorable stories in a positive light. Getting an invitation to the director’s club was cool and all, but that was the great unknown. There was still the matter of Gideon Shaw the actor and worldwide celebrity. The backlash couldn’t fall solely on him.
And somehow that convoluted logic led to this insane plan to take some of the sting out of having his reputation trashed by pulling a secret romance out of their hats. Moira thought it was just the thing to keep the ladies in swoon mode and the guys wishing they could all be the handsome actor.
That was how she ended up in an audacious embrace that had her plastered to Edward from the waist down. Some part of her almost wrapped her legs around his waist before she snapped out of it.
The icing on the cake? Hearing him ask her to marry him.
Was it physically or emotionally possible to be ecstatic and crushed at the same time?
Until she heard him say the words, the notion of being married to Edward hadn’t entered her mind. Not in any meaningful way, despite years of doodling Paige Banning on scraps of paper or the hundreds of pins she’d put on a Pinterest board labeled Dream Wedding.
But now that he’d said the words, all she could focus on was how cruel and fucked up this situation was. For her. She was in love with Edward and no matter what, Gideon, although very real, was also a figment of their imaginations. Who was asking?
It was impossible to ignore the pout on her face, mostly because it felt so foreign. So not her usual self.
Hold on. What was happening? How could she possibly navigate this bizarre situation if she wasn’t herself?
“This would be funny as a plot line.” The joking comment was more for her than for him. Every comedy had a potential dark side. “But I don’t feel like laughing.”
Edward nodded solemnly and tightened the arm around her waist. Despite Paige’s resolve to behave with adult decorum, each time she felt his body press into hers, she practically became a giggling, drooling twit.
He still hadn’t responded to the Edward-Gideon riddle, which was the only reason she wasn’t all over him like a rash. It wasn’t a trick question, for heaven’s sake. An answer wasn’t too much to ask.
Her granddad, an irascible old-school gentleman farmer who wore his Army hat every Veteran’s Day and Memorial Day and who never met a flag he didn’t stop to salute, teased her nonstop when she was younger about her complete lack of ability for waiting. If being patient was a virtue, she was screwed.
Eh, whatever. Mr. Silent can take a hike. Paige fingered the smooth silk of a tie she’d chosen for him to wear. She started to talk only to have her words vanish into the ether when Edward’s hand slid slowly from around her waist to perform a bold caress of her ass.
If he did that again, it was gonna be go time. “How come you get to grab my ass, but I can’t get an answer to a simple question?” Oh, good lord. She could still feel the pout. Sooooo not the impression she wanted to give.
He shifted slightly, but it was just enough for her to experience an obviously aroused Edward cradled in the soft heat of her body.
“The question was insulting,” he growled. Wrapping a big hand about her neck, he immobilized her, plastered her to him with her hands trapped against his chest as he told her with his body what he meant.
“Who were you kissing the other night, Paige?”
She went completely still. Something about the tone he used tugged at her emotions. She’d hurt him with the question just as her blunder when they’d talked about the sex tape had wounded him.
Him, Edward. Not Gideon.
She raised a hand and stroked his chin, saying, “We’re calling that kissing?” She’d meant the jest to sound funny, but her voice came out husky and lush. “I thought it was more like a mutual throat exam.”
His eyes narrowed briefly—she hadn’t expected that and then the grip on her neck intensified. She had a heartbeat to read his expression before his mouth crashed onto hers.
A balls-out claiming replaced the slow sensuous exploration from their first intimate encounter and shook Paige to her core. This time, he didn’t seduce her mouth. This time, he plundered. She felt consumed. It was intoxicating.
He gave her an opportunity to catch her breath and then went in for a second, even more devastating tasting that left her trembling with a desire so shocking she questioned whether any of this was real.
When he finished reducing her to a boneless heap of jelly, he ground his manhood into her and stared her down. “Who are you kissing, Paige?”
“Edward,” she whimpered in a tiny voice.
His eyes told her of his approval. “Look,” he ground out. “I know this seems fucked up, but let’s be honest. We made the jump to light speed before today, and we did that on our own.”
She had to agree with him. Once they had opened that door, there was no sense in pulling back. But figuring out their feelings was a far cry from will you marry me?
“Is what I’m asking a bit extreme? Yes. I’ll give you that.”
Did he have to punctuate that comment by squeezing her ass? He wasn’t playing fair.
“But ask yourself this … if we admit that there’s something real going on but do nothing while Joann traipses around the globe insinuating that she’s been in my bed—how could that possibly be helpful? If we don’t shut her down and do it now, the pressure will destroy everything and then that bitch will have fucked up maybe the best thing that’s ever happened. For either of us.”