A Deal Before the Altar. Rachael Thomas
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at her he got out of the car, almost instantly appearing at her door. He held out his hand for her, but the look on his face suggested he was far from happy. For a moment she was worried. Had she pushed things just a little too far, taunting him like that? A man like him was used to people pandering to his ego.
She had the sudden urge to bolt past him and run away. Reason followed swiftly. She wouldn’t help her sister like that, and the shoes she was wearing certainly hadn’t been created for running.
‘If you want to drop this charade you can go home now.’ His voice was rough, edged with exasperation. ‘But just remember, querida, it was your idea.’
He was right. She had started this and she would finish it—but only when she knew her sister could marry the man she loved without any implications from this power-hungry man who now stood waiting for her, looking devastatingly sexy. Did he really mean to keep this up, even in private?
For a moment she wondered if she’d already done enough. They’d been seen leaving the party together. Then she remembered Emma’s smile, the hope that had shone from her eyes. Georgina realised that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought, whether they believed their whirlwind romance was real. It only mattered what Emma thought. There was no way she could let her sister think that yet again she was marrying to secure her future. Emma was all she cared about.
She could do this—even if it meant continuing with the charade of attraction.
Taking his hand, she stepped out of the car and looked up at the tall modern building. She’d never given any thought to where he might live, but the clean, precise lines of this apartment block didn’t surprise her.
‘I suppose you have the top floor, complete with river views?’
‘Very perceptive of you.’
His voice had lowered to a steely tone, interwoven with charm, and her stomach fluttered irrationally.
‘It seems you do know something about me after all.’
Yes, I do. I know too much. I know you have an abundance of charm and the ability to break a woman’s heart.
‘It was merely an observation.’ Georgina kept the words light as he gestured her towards the entrance of the building. She was beginning to feel disorientated by him, by his seductive tone and sexy smiles. She couldn’t allow that to happen. As far as she was concerned once his name was on their marriage certificate and her sister was married all contact would be severed. She had no intention of becoming a real wife. Whatever motivation was behind that absurd request she would find a way out of it. She had to.
The lift doors closed on them with expensive silence and as they were taken upwards she kept her eyes straight ahead, watching the doors, not daring to look at him or at their reflection, which seemed to mock her from all sides. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, but refused to meet it. She didn’t dare. He was still acting the part of an attracted and attentive man and it was beginning to stir emotions she’d long since locked away.
She almost let out a sigh of relief as the lift doors opened. The opulence of the corridor wasn’t lost on her. He wrapped his arm around her, so her elbow nestled in the palm of his hand, and she moved towards the door of his apartment, a sense of dread filling her.
‘Do we really need to take it this far?’ The words left her in a rush, before she’d had time to consider them.
He stopped outside the white double doors to his apartment, his arm still around her, keeping her close. She looked up at him, desperate to keep calm. He mustn’t know just how unnerved he made her feel.
‘Yes—if you want authenticity you need to be seen leaving here tomorrow morning.’ Amusement lightened his eyes before he turned to open the doors.
‘We could have just stayed at the hotel...’ She clutched at the idea, not daring to cross the threshold, not wanting to be alone with him—especially on his territory.
‘On the contrary.’ He smiled that heart-stopping smile that could very easily make her think she was the only woman he saw, the only woman he wanted. ‘To bring you here gives a clear message to everyone who knows me—including my brother.’
With his arm firmly around her, he walked into the apartment. She had no choice but to go too. Her heels clicked on a marble floor and the low lighting hinted at a very sparse and masculine living space.
‘I don’t understand...’ The words rushed out on an unsteady breath as he finally moved away from her. At least she could breathe properly, now he wasn’t so close.
Dropping his keys onto a table, he took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a large black leather sofa. Unable to keep her eyes off him, she watched as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Dark tanned skin drew her eyes and she had to force herself to look away.
‘I never bring a woman back to my apartment.’
The implication of his words sank in. He was giving a very clear message—not just to Carlo, but to her. He wanted the business so badly he was prepared not only to accept her proposal of marriage, but to do everything to make it look real. Even appear to cast aside his womanising reputation and ways and take her as his wife.
‘I should be honoured, then,’ she replied flippantly, in an attempt to hide her thoughts.
He might be able to discard the way he lived for the sake of his business, but she couldn’t quite let slip the distant demeanour she hid behind. After all, it wasn’t a business she was doing it for, but the love of her sister.
‘The first woman to spend a night here with you?’
* * *
Santos flicked on a light, wanting to see Georgina’s face better. In fact he wanted to see more than just her face. All evening her soft skin had teased his senses—so much so that he’d done the one thing he never did with any woman. He’d kissed her publicly. Not just a light brush of lips on lips either, but a desire-laden kiss that held a promise of passion and satisfaction.
‘More champagne?’
He should just be showing her to her room, as he’d intended when he’d formed this bizarre back-up plan yesterday. But even then, as she’d stood so proudly in his office, he’d found the cocktail of icy control laced with underlying passion tempting. Too tempting. And challenging. What man could refuse such a challenge?
‘No, thanks.’
Her frosty tone made it clear the ice maiden was back. He watched as she walked across the room to look down on the Thames, at the city’s lights reflected in the dark water.
Ordinarily, if he’d taken a woman back to a hotel suite, he wouldn’t be thinking of any kind of drink. He would be enjoying holding her, kissing her, and thinking only of satisfying their sexual needs. But this was different.
It unnerved him, but he quickly pushed the notion to the back of his mind. It was different simply because of the deal they’d struck. Never before had he spent time with a woman for any other reason than that he wanted to.
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thanks.’ She turned to face him. ‘We both know this isn’t for real, and there isn’t anyone here to witness anything more, so can we just say goodnight and go to bed—separately?’
He raised his brows at that last word and was rewarded with a light flush to her cheeks, giving her an air of innocence. Their eyes met and for a moment it was as if everything hung in the balance. Boldly she held his gaze. Did she have any idea how magnificent she looked? A glacial beauty with barely concealed simmering passion.
‘I’ll show you to your room.’
He turned and broke the contact, but could feel her gaze following him. A sizzle of desire zipped through him and he gripped his hands into fists. If she could be so coldly in control, then so could he.
Her heels tapped rhythmically as she walked behind him, out of the vast open