A grumpy single Dad romance
I only wanted a no strings attached fling with my much older boss—but our families caught us, now we have to pretend to be in love.
At least, he’s pretending.
On my first day at Donovan and Sons Law, I didn't expect to see the guy I had a one-night stand with – David Donovan, a reclusive billionaire partner of the firm.
Though we both try to deny it, we are drawn to each other.
It doesn’t matter where it is, we can’t keep our hands off of each other, in the bed, on his desk, against the wall, and so much more.
He is damaged. His divorce, the car accident he never talks about, and his desire to be a better father leave him little time for love.
So we agree, no strings attached.
Though we promise it won’t affect work, the intensity of our attraction keeps surprising us.
We’re caught by his best friend, is also my older brother.
I pretend we’re in a real relationship.
Only, the more time we spend together, the more I wish this was real.
As Valentine’s Day approaches, things change.
My brother is marrying David’s ex-wife, and David just got a job offer halfway across the globe.
So, our fake relationship is maybe coming to an end.
The only problem is I am in love with him, and I won’t let him go.Amazon
Excerpt from Faking it with the Damaged Silver Fox © Copyright 2024 Anna Pierson
This is the worst I’ve ever felt in my life, I think as I blink awake.
The ceiling is not my ceiling. I know my off-white popcorn ceiling like the back of my hand. This smooth, creamy brown ceiling is not mine.
With the effort of a Herculean trial, I attempt to remember where I am and how I got here.
It comes in a disjointed blur: the tequila shots come first, the smoke of the club, the sharp jaw of…
Oh. Oh no. Oh, no, no, no, no—
I turn over in horror. The rumpled bed, the creased pillow… someone else slept here.
The sharp jaw of a handsome as-all-hell man. Who apparently I spent the night with.
I peek beneath the blankets, and, yep. No clothes. Oh, hell.
The sun beams in through the devastatingly beautiful windows, bright and high in the sky. It sends a rush of nervousness through me, knowing that I’m late for my first day of work. Why oh why did I let Alice talk me into clubbing on a Sunday? Who does that?
I do, apparently, I think glumly.
I lurch up, but can’t actually get out of the bed I’ve found myself in. My stomach is rolling too much, threatening to make me vomit if I move again before it settles.
I hold my head between my hands, groaning loudly. My head pounds, my stomach flips—I feel terrible.
As I slowly wiggle out of the sheets, my eyes stay sharp on the door. Worst case scenario is the man from last night is a serial killer. Second worst case is he sneaks in without me noticing and sees my naked body hunched over searching for my clothes, a humiliating image that might make my heart give out, considering how haphazardly it’s been pulsing.
I find my panties and bra, but, horrifyingly, that’s it. I know that one of Alice’s dresses is somewhere here because I wore it last night. Beyond just needing it to get out of here, I could never afford to replace anything from my best friend’s wardrobe, especially if I get fired for being late on my first day.
I’m just about to break down and steal something from the man’s closet when the door creaks open. I fling myself to the bed, grabbing the sheet and holding it over my half-naked body just in time.
There he is. Dressed already for the day in nice slacks and a button-down shirt that looks so soft it seems buttery, he looks decadent. I feel even messier than I did when I woke up.
The man creeping through the door is so attractive.
I knew this already, but the haze of memories from last night had muffled just how good he looked. His brown hair is styled with a curved pouf, clearly intentional but yet somehow still a little messy. His eyes are a deep chestnut brown, with swirls of gold in them, framed by thick, dark lashes. He’s got strong features, a thick brow and a sharp nose, and his lips are ever-so-slightly crooked.
He’s potentially the hottest man I have ever seen, but I kind of wish he would run away and I’d never have to see him again.
“Um…” I smile as politely as I can. “Hi?”
The man’s face crinkles. It’s not quite a smile, but it’s friendly enough. Okay. So maybe not a serial killer. “Hello, Laura.”
“Right. Laura. I’m Laura.” I’m babbling. “And you’re… not Laura. Wow. Did I tell you I love your name? It’s so fun how it sounds like…”
I trail off. The man waits, his lips twitching until he’s full- on smirking.
I sigh and sag against the bed. “Okay, fine. What is your name, and also, where are my clothes?”
“David,” the man says. He walks into the bedroom and produces a folded-up fabric from behind his back. He places it on the edge of the bed before taking a small step back. “You left it by the stairs.”