“Holiday travel,” I finally grind out. “It’s what I could book at the last minute because you dropped this bomb on me. So unless you want to explain to your parents that you quit and I followed you here to convince you to come back, then I guess I’m your boyfriend for the week. And we’re going to have to kiss. I know I’m going to enjoy it. I hope you will, too.”

“We can’t.” Her chest rises and falls between us, her whole body shaking. “Jacob…”

“Don’t call me that.” I frown, trying to not pour all my focus on how fucking good she feels pressed between me and the wall. “Anyone in your family know that jerk you work for as Jacob?”

She squeaks. “Worked for. Past tense.”

“Agree to disagree.” I grind the words out. “But there’s another good reason to call me Jake. It might help you…bear this. If I’m someone different.”

“What would help is you walking downstairs and leaving.” But her voice goes tight as she says it, and I think about everything she’s ever let slip about her family. How her siblings both married young, and her parents have an idyllic marriage.

She wouldn’t want them to think we’ve been fighting up here.

Now that we’ve accepted this ruse, we’ll need to see it through.

That will be easy for me.

I once burned with jealousy, thinking about the lucky fuck who would get to make Sienna his wife.

Now I burn with another intense feeling. Possession. And if I have an excuse to let her see a slice of that…well, that’s irresistible. “I didn’t come here just to turn around and leave.”

“You came all this way to tell me I can’t quit.” She laughs again. “This is a nightmare. And how did you even find me?”

He didn’t need to answer that one. She figured it out herself in a split second.

“You tracked my phone?”

“Our phones are linked. By your own doing.”

“Because you lose yours all the time!”

“And I have appreciated every time you’ve found it for me.”

“You can’t use the location tracking to hunt me down!”

“Let’s call it even, since you shouldn’t have told your family you were dating someone named Jake. Let me guess, he’s six-foot-three with reddish blond hair and an annoyingly good track record for knowing inane trivia?”

A knock at the door cuts off whatever stormy protest she was thinking of launching back at me. She pushes against my chest and I step back, then turn around so whoever is there doesn’t get a front row view of the erection that strains at the front of my jeans.

Sienna might be just furious enough to not notice, but it’s painfully obvious to anyone else who might eyeball the front of my body.