“Hey, it’s not my fault your boss has no manners. The point is, I kept his interest. The guy loves me.”

Ugh, unfortunately true.

“It seems to me if you want this guy to keep you around, then the way to do that is to pay me the two thousand dollars a week to be your fake boyfriend. He wants me around and where you go, I go, right?”

I stumbled to a halt, the anger mixing with frustration because I knew there was logic in his proposal. He was absolutely correct. And I hated it. “I don’t know you from Adam.”

The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Like you know my brother from Adam? Or is the difference that he has a degree and I’m an uneducated meathead who runs a gym?”

Why did he deliberately try to see the worst in me? “You are very prejudiced.”

Rhys’s expression darkened. “Tinker Bell, like you said, you don’t fucking know me.”

“Don’t curse at me.” I crossed my arms over my chest, refusing to be intimidated by him even though my legs were shaking a little at the idea of agreeing to his proposal. “I’m hardly going to hire a guy who hates me because I grew up with money.”

He exhaled heavily, his earlier tension seeming to dissolve. “Tinker Bell,” he said, his tone softer, “I don’t fucking know you either. How can I hate you?”

Tinker Bell. Is that how he saw me? Tiny, spoiled, and ill-tempered? Ouch. Wrinkling my nose, I began walking again. “Don’t call me Tinker Bell.”

“Do we have a deal?” Rhys persisted as he fell into step beside me again.

I cut him a look. “Why do you want to do this?”

There went that muscle in his jaw again. Tick, tick, ticking. “I need the money,” he bit out.

As if that was something to be ashamed of?

Still, Dean needed the money because he was unemployed. Why did an ex-professional boxer who owned a gym need money? I wouldn’t be involved in anything nefarious. I said as much to him.

He grimaced. “It’s nothing criminal. Jesus Christ. All the money I earned boxing went to my family, to Dean’s education, and other shit they needed. Now the gym isn’t doing great and the extra cash could help inject some new life into it.”

“You paid for your brother’s college education?”

He grunted; I took that as confirmation.

The anger inside me simmered a little. A guy who spent his earnings on his little brother’s education couldn’t be all bad, right? It was actually kind of sweet.

I considered him. “If we do this, I’ll need you to be flexible with your schedule. You must be able to attend events and dinners at the drop of a hat. That was the deal with Dean.”

Rhys looked down at me with those too-beautiful eyes and nodded. “Deal.”

I bit my lip, hesitating over making it official. Dean was so easy-going and charming, I’d been instantly relaxed in his company. The thought of playacting a romantic relationship with him hadn’t bothered me in the least.

I surreptitiously looked over his big brother as he strolled down the street at my side, hands in his jeans’ pockets, impatiently waiting for my answer. Butterflies fluttered to life in my belly and the slight tremble in my legs returned as I imagined pretending to be Rhys’s girlfriend over the next few months.

The man was rough, obnoxious, cursed way too much, and he had the ability to piss me off, which was hard to do. That Fairchild liked him wasn’t much of an endorsement either.

And yet it was the latter that would persuade me to say yes.

“Fine, but I want you to sign a contract.”

“Did Dean have to sign a contract?”

“No. But then Dean never ambushed me for the job either.”

“You tried to prostitute my kid brother. I’m not going to apologize for my behavior.”

The flame of outrage smoldered to life once more. “For the hundredth time, I did not try to prostitute your brother!”

A bark of laughter from across the street made me tense, and I watched the couple who’d overheard me stare at us as they chuckled their way out of earshot.

I colored and glowered up at Rhys as if it were his fault.

The big jerk grinned. “Maybe you should learn to control that temper, Tinker Bell. It’s going to get you in trouble one of these days.”

There was a possibility I’d kill him before we ever signed a contract.

“I did not try to prostitute Dean,” I said quietly. “And while we’re on the subject, that’s not what this is about. You realize there will be no actual sex happening between us?”

“Don’t worry, small fry, you’re not my type.”

Indignation and hurt pride made me sneer. “As if you’re mine.”

Rhys flicked me a dirty look. “Yeah, I think we both know I’m not your type. Now that that’s sorted, do we have a deal or what?”