Boyfriend for Hire!

"Say. That. Again."

Savannah's throat caught with a hard swallow, one that broke into a humiliating series of hiccups. Classic. Ryan inched closer, moving with a deliberate slowness that had her scrambling for any escape. He didn't stop, not until his mouth was almost brushing against hers. Her shoulders crammed into the chair's back, face flushing so hot it could practically rival the sun's heat.

The intensity of Ryan's glare was doing things to her—hot, disturbing things. It polluted her thoughts, teasing parts of her she was not about to acknowledge. Nope. It was never happening.

After what felt like an eternity under his probing eyes, Ryan finally pulled back with a proud smirk. Clearly, he'd had his fill of… whatever this was.

"Now, onto the important stuff. Why are you so hellbent on kicking me off the Briggs & project?" Ryan asked, slipping a hand into his pocket with all the casual ease of someone who hadn't just a moment ago set her hormonal forest ablaze. A shoe swing at him could come in handy right about now.

"Please leave," Savannah managed, irritated by how weak it sounded. Not the command she'd intended. As if her body's betrayal wasn't enough, her voice had to jump in and seal the deal. Eccellente!

"I'm thinking we make a short film out of this. You do the storyboarding; I'll handle the technical work," Ryan said, completely ignoring what she'd just said.

Then, of course, just because he could, he plopped his annoyingly perfect butt into the chair across from her and swung his legs up onto her desk like it wasn't full of important stuff. That insufferable grin slapped across his face made it painfully clear he damn well knew what he was doing. He was thoroughly enjoying messing with her. Very Ryan-coded.

"Could you, at the very least, put your legs back where they belong? Like, on the actual floor?" Savannah's voice trembled with equal parts exhaustion and the kind of rage only Ryan could inspire out of her. "The fucking floor."

Ryan laughed, and oh great, because that was precisely what she needed: his laugh. Rough, delicious, and completely unfair. It made her want to gag. Or melt. Maybe both.

"You should loosen up a bit more," Ryan said teasingly.

"Right. And I bet you say that to every other girl you flirt with," Savannah shot back before she could stop herself.

Shit. She hadn't meant to say that. Not out loud.

Ryan's face shifted in an instant. The teasing grin slipped right off, replaced by something… different. He straightened up, the lightness in his posture vanishing. He put his legs down—the first sensible thing he'd done all morning, to be very honest—and pushed himself farther out of his chair.

"Are you aware of how much time we've lost on this ad because of your stubbornness?" Ryan said in a low voice, each word registering deep in her bones.

Seven days. They were down to seven days—big deal.

Savannah snorted. "When have I ever failed to meet a deadline?"

"How about now?" Ryan snapped back.

What the hell was he talking about? Questioning her ability to meet a deadline? Seven days was plenty of time to sort it out.

"Look, Giulia—"

"Don't call me that."

Ryan hesitated for a split second, but then his tone softened. "Let's figure out a way to make this work. You know, like finding common ground."

Savannah pushed her chin out just enough to show her irritation. "Make what work exactly?" Her eyes narrowed. "The ad? Or the proposal stunt you pulled earlier? What are you really on about, Ryan?"

A flicker of something crossed Ryan's face too quickly to pinpoint, but it was there. "I'm at a loss here. Wasn't I speaking English this whole time?"

"Clearly," Savannah settled. "But your communication skills are seriously lacking. Your words and actions? Don't match."

He blinked, throwing her a confused look back at her. "What are you talking about? I have no idea what that means."

"No idea!?" Savannah's chair scraped back as she shot to her feet. "You honestly have no idea what that means, Ryan? Your ridiculous proposal is probably already making media rounds by now, and you don't fucking know!? How do you plan to explain that to my family when they ask to know more about you and us after seeing that video of you proposing?"

Upon reflection, she didn't know what she was on about. She wasn't even sure there was a video of the proposal. But something told her there must have been at least one person recording. Wasn't that how these things usually went?

"I don't see a problem here," Ryan said flatly. "Thought you needed an escort to your sister's wedding?"

"A boyfriend, yes," Savannah corrected. "I was planning to hire one, to have him show up only for the first day's event and then disappear."

Ryan looked entirely too amused with a brow raise. "And what would you tell the others if they found out your boyfriend had MIA'd before the wedding was halfway through?"

"I can handle that."

"I see." Ryan's smirk deepened into a smug one. A smolder. "In other words, you've got a plan."

"Of course, yes."

What was his problem? Why wouldn't she have some plan going?

"I have a question for you," Ryan said softly. "Please sit."

"Fine."

"So, tell me," Ryan continued once he seemed to have her full, undivided attention. "How is lying to your folks about having a boyfriend any different from lying to them about having a fiancé?"

Well, that was… harsh. Savannah sulked inwardly. Did he seriously have to hit her with that line?

"Look, don't even bother answering that," Ryan said. "I take it back."

Savannah eyed him with a sharp edge, saying virtually nothing. Her silence spoke volumes.

"Here's the thing, all right. Can't you just play along with this whole engagement thing for a bit? We both know that having a fiancé by your side for your sister's wedding is much more serious than showing up with some casual date."

"Finally, Ryan. We're finally speaking the same language. Thank God."

Savannah threw her hands up in mock relief, the movement so dramatic that it drew a genuine laugh out of him, much to her annoyance.

"On a more serious note, I don't think l know a lot about how things work around here, but—"

"Come off it," Ryan said dismissively. "You've been here long enough to know us better than we know ourselves."

"Hahaha. Very funny," Savannah said tauntingly, her eyes narrowing as she added, "See, Ryan, you people have it easier regarding dating and the likes out here. Where I'm from, if a girl shows off a man she's planning to marry to her family, and things don't work out, she's stuck walking the coals of shame for the rest of her life."

And there was the truth she rarely spoke about—the awkwardness and quiet humiliation she'd carried with her since her failed engagement with Chad. Ryan, of course, had no idea. Not unless he'd dug into her past, which seemed absurd for someone who didn't care a whit about her.

For a moment, though, it seemed like he was seriously considering her words just now, with his head tilted to the side. But just as quickly as she'd studied him do that, the look was gone, replaced by his usual casual stance.

Savannah's heart sank. There was no softness in his eyes whatsoever, a total lack of empathy. She should have known it was better to talk to a wall than him about such serious matters. Straightening herself, keeping her voice steady, she said, "You wouldn't understand."

"Wrong." Ryan looked at her intently. "I understand enough to know that you're making this a bigger deal than it is."

Those words hit harder than a slap. Savannah felt her throat tighten and her fists clenched against her sides. What did she expect from him? A hug?

"Let's have this talk again," Ryan said, towering over her. "The focus now should be on the Briggs & advertising."

"I said I don't need your help."

Ryan lifted his hand, silencing her. "Like I said before, Briggs advertising comes first. You have a three-week window to decide if you want me to accompany you to the wedding. But know this: I won't be attending as your hired boyfriend if that's your final decision. A fiancé suits my aura much better."

After that, he turned sharply on his heel, leaving Savannah alone and seething.