The Fiancé Agreement

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The Fiancé Agreement Page 6

by McKenna Rogue


  But I had to remember, this was all for show. I wasn’t here to make Helena fall for me, or even make her come all over my tongue. I was here to make her sister believe I was in love with Helena and that she would have a suitable date for the wedding so hopefully they’d get off her back about it. Nothing more.

  As soon as the dessert plates were cleared away, Marcus stood, helping Daphne to her feet. I hadn’t seen a check, and I hated the thought that Marcus paid for everything without even consulting me.

  “Don’t we have to pay before we leave?”

  “Oh, don’t be silly. My Marcus took care of everything. You’re our guests, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Helena looked down at her feet, and I couldn’t help but wonder how often her sister and her obviously wealthy fiancé made Helena feel less than. “Then I insist we at least have a round of drinks before heading back. On me.”

  “I’m kind of tired. Can we just head back?” Helena tugged on my shirt sleeve, as if she was trying to give me some sort of signal. The kind that I’d have no trouble interpreting, if I was actually her beau.

  “Anything you want, babe.” I helped her to her feet and wrapped my arm around her waist. “I’ll tuck you in.”

  Her alabaster cheeks turned the most delectable rose color, and she buried her face into my chest. “Gio…”

  Daphne let out a giggle. “Why don’t the two of you take the car back? We’re not quite ready to be hotel bound again, and it’s pretty obvious the two of you are.” She raised her eyebrow suggestively, as if she believed I was going to fuck her sister as soon as we were alone.

  Good.

  Helena deserved people thinking she was getting good, hot sex. Almost as much as she deserved good, hot sex. All she’d have to give me was a word, and I would’ve happily taken Helena for a ride she wouldn’t forget.

  “We can’t take your car.” Helena shook her head. “Won’t you need it?”

  “We can call a cab, Hellie. Go. Have some fun with your friend.” She put emphasis on the last word, like there was no way she was believing we were just friends.

  Marcus tossed me the keys, a suggestive smirk on his face, and I steered Helena through the crowded restaurant to the exit.

  Once we were outside and I had hope of hearing her again, I moved in close and smiled. “I think that went well.”

  “Well? Are you kidding? Gio, you can’t be like that, if we’re going to try this. If we’re actually going to fool anyone into believing you’re my fiancé in a couple months, you have to play it a little cooler than that. No one’s going to believe a guy like you would be that affectionate with a girl like me.”

  I shook my head, at completely and utterly confused. “Helena, I’m not going to act out of character. The women I’m honored enough to give my attentions to deserve nothing but the best. And that includes affections of all sorts.” I ran my hands over her hips, pulling her in close. “Touching.” I kissed along her jaw, avoiding her mouth for now. “Kissing.” I nipped at her earlobe before whispering, “Sexy, sweet nothings that are just for you to hear.”

  Helena shivered, despite the warm California night air, and I smirked as I pulled away. “Now, then, do you really want to go back to the hotel, and just go to bed, or do I get the pleasure of spending more time with you?”

  “Honestly, I want out of these heels. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, wearing them.”

  I smirked. “Okay, then can I convince you to come back to my room? Let me draw you while we share a bottle of wine?”

  Helena bit her lip. “Why are you doing this, Gio? Really?”

  “Really? Because I want to draw you. I want to paint you. I want to learn your curves, capture them forever in art. And if hanging out with you, pretending to be your boyfriend, your fiancé, is what it takes, then I’m going to make sure your family believes it.” I reached out and took her hand. “I’m kind of a selfish artist. When I find a muse, something that makes my art sing, I want to hold onto it. Right now, you’re that muse.”

  Helena looked like she was going to protest again, but instead she just squeezed my hand. “Okay. Let’s go back to the hotel, get comfortable.”

  “I still need more information on the wedding too, if you really want me to come be your date.” I wrapped my arm around her lower back and led her to the car, following the gentlemanly protocol my father had instilled in us all to open the door for her and make sure she was comfortable before closing her in again.

  As I walked around the car, I couldn’t help but steal a look at her through the windshield. She’d immediately pulled out her phone, and wasn’t looking up at me, which gave me the perfect opportunity to watch her, to start to memorize the curves and planes of her face. I didn’t understand why she acted like she was so much less than her sister, like she wasn’t as pretty, or as interesting.

  Daphne was a beauty and more to societal standards, and clearly the sort Marcus was drawn to. More power to the both of them for finding their true love.

  But Helena was so much more interesting to me. I could’ve stared at her for hours just trying to figure out what she was thinking.

  As I climbed into the driver’s seat, I reached over and took her hand, testing the limits of this precarious relationship we were developing. I wanted to know what she was comfortable with, and how much she’d pull away when there weren’t eyes on us, when there was no one scrutinizing our every action other than her.

  When she didn’t immediately pull away, I counted it as a success.

  7

  Helena

  What the hell was I doing? I was in a hotel room with practically a stranger, sprawled across his bed, with a glass of wine in my hand. Not that I hadn’t already asked him to go to Italy with me and pretend to be in a serious relationship. Not that he hadn’t already met my sister and her soon-to-be husband. But somehow sitting in a hotel room alone with him, all of those lies weighed heavier on me when I realized I didn’t know him well at all.

  Not to mention all the sexy thoughts I’d been having about him since we met.

  I was already buzzing. Not from the alcohol, but by how the evening had gone.

  Who gave him the right to be able to kiss like that? It was like something had short-circuited in my brain. It was the only explanation I had for letting him feed me, for indulging on the rich, chocolatey dessert that was something I normally never would’ve eaten in front of my sister and her perfect fiancé. I had enough people in my life who gave me derisive looks whenever I dared to eat what I wanted—I’d learned to just avoid the temptation.

  But Gio seemed to be temptation personified.

  “Move your right hand down just a little. You’re hiding your beautiful smirk.” His hair hung over his eye, and the sketchpad propped on his knee made me feel like Rose and Jack from Titanic. If Rose had been fully clothed and big enough to need two spots on a lifeboat.

  I followed his direction, shifting just slightly to position better for the artist.

  “The wedding is the first Saturday in April, near Florence in Tuscany, but the festivities start the week before. I’ll happily pay for your way out there; I’ll just need to know where to buy the ticket from.” I had no idea how I was going to afford even one ticket, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Oh?” He looked up. “That could be a bit of a problem. I’m supposed to be in Aspen the weekend before. Family birthday party. But if you wanted to join me, we could fly out together. Really play up the couple thing.”

  “You want me to pretend to be your fake fiancée too?” I chuckled and took a sip of wine. I already felt like I was on shaky ground with this ploy, and we’d managed to lay a little bit of groundwork with my sister already. But two families?

  “Actually, I was thinking new girlfriend. Less pressure, but it still lets us practice being a couple.”

  I considered the proposal. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to get to know him better, see him interacting with other people, even see where he
came from. But that would mean another flight, another hotel room, more meals… it all added up way too fast.

  “I don’t know if I could afford that.” I practically whispered it, hoping he wouldn’t hear. That he wouldn’t know my embarrassment.

  “Helena, I’m not going to let you pay my way for anything. I wasn’t raised that way, and even if I was, it wouldn’t be fair to you. If we’re doing this, you’re going to have to get used to the way I do things.” He set the sketchpad aside and stood, moving across the room with the powerful grace of a jungle cat, and he sat on the edge of the bed. “I might not be as overt about it as someone like Marcus, but I’m not hurting for money. If we’re doing this, especially in Aspen, you’re going to have to let me pay for things. You’re going to have to deal with the fact that my parents raised me to be the type of man who picks up the check at meals, who buys tickets to events. Who spoils a woman because she deserves nice things.”

  It all sounded too good to be true. A man who really wanted to take care of me? Someone who didn’t expect me to go Dutch on a check, because my entrée was more expensive? Or because I dared to order the extra three-dollar side salad? “But you’re already giving up so much to do this with me.”

  “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been creating art most of the time we’ve been here. Taking pictures, drawing, immortalizing the trip. I can do that anywhere. And I’m the lucky asshole who gets to do this for a living. Tuscany has some of the best late afternoon light for portraits, and gorgeous scenery to serve as a backdrop. All I’d be doing is shifting my perspective for a week or two. And my curator would probably eat up a tour of Tuscan beauty for an upcoming show.” He grinned. “Really, you’re doing me a favor.”

  I doubted that. But if he was really content to do this, to let me take him halfway across the world for a wedding, I needed to stop questioning. “Okay.”

  “Good. Before we part ways on this trip, I’ll make arrangements to get us to Aspen together, and from there we’ll fly to Tuscany together.” He patted my thigh, a little higher than I normally would’ve let anyone touch without being in an actual relationship, and never with the lights on, and then he stood again. “Now, I have a drawing to finish.”

  I bit my lip as he settled into his spot again. Part of me wanted to admit that I’d lost the drawing he made on the beach, but I couldn’t stomach the disappointment he’d undoubtedly have. And I couldn’t ask for another one.

  When he finally set the sketchpad aside for the night, I’d finished off most of the bottle of wine. Only one pour had made it into his glass, and he’d barely touched it, as if his focus really had been entirely on me, on drawing my body.

  He didn’t let me see what he’d been working on, and as he walked me down the hall to the elevator, I wanted him to lean in, to press a soft kiss to my cheek, or a harder, hungrier one to my lips. I wanted to feel like this was a real date, that he wanted more than just inspiration from me.

  But he was chaste, gentlemanly, and as the elevator doors slid shut, separating us, sadness washed over me at the thought that this was all we’d ever be. Lovers in public, and all business in private.

  My phone rang entirely too early for my liking.

  The chime was incessant, obnoxious, and echoing around my skull so much that I answered just to shut it up. “Hello?”

  “Hellie? Oh, God, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Daphne’s voice sounded extra shrill. Or maybe that was just the red wine hangover I seemed to be in the throes of. “I’m sorry. I’ll call back later.”

  “No, I’m up.” I was here for her, and the last thing I needed her to think was that her sister had gone out and gotten shit-faced with a stranger. “What’s up?”

  “Marcus had some work to take care of this morning, so I was hoping we could have a girls’ day. Get breakfast, maybe find somewhere for mani-pedis.” She paused for barely a breath before adding, “And you can tell me all about your night with Gio.”

  I pulled the phone away before I let out a sigh, not wanting her to hear. Of course, she wanted all the gossip, even though I didn’t actually have much to tell. “Can we meet in the lobby in about a half hour? Oh, does Marcus need his car keys?” I was pretty sure I still had those somewhere. My purse, maybe?

  “Oh, he’s working from the room. But we should probably get those back at some point.” Daphne giggled. “Unless you and Gio want to take a drive out into the hills and find somewhere to park.”

  Good God, was that what she thought of me? Was that what she thought I did? While the thoughts of Gio taking advantage of a quiet moment on a hill overlooking the city by sliding his hands under my dress while he kissed the dickens out of me did make my girl parts clench with need, I did not need my sister thinking I was some sort of hussy on top of everything else. “I’ll bring them down when we meet for breakfast.” And maybe a bloody Mary. I probably needed hair-of-the-dog for this hangover.

  “Okay. Thirty minutes. You can invite Gio to breakfast if he’s next to you in bed right now. But he’s going to have to go when we head to the spa.”

  I chuckled. “We didn’t have sex, Daph, so you can get that thought right out of your head.” Not that I didn’t think about it. His deep, commanding tone, the way his eyes seemed to burn through to my soul, and the simple way he kept touching me, like it was all he could do to stay close… I really did feel like I’d fallen into the pages of one of my romance novels.

  “You have to have done something good. I want the dirt, Hellie. You know I’ll keep asking until you give it up.”

  Shaking my head, I got up and headed for the bathroom. I needed the hot water to wash some of the sleep and hangover before I had to face my chipper little sister. “Okay, if I’m getting downstairs in half an hour, I’m hanging up on you.”

  It took thirty-seven minutes to feel enough like a functioning adult to make it downstairs, but clearly Daphne wasn’t concerned. Once again, she was wrapped around Marcus, close enough they were practically having sex in the lobby.

  “Ahem.” I didn’t even try to make it sound like a cough, opting to enunciate every sound.

  Daphne had no remorse as she pulled away, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Hey, Hellie.”

  “You ready for breakfast?” I handed Marcus his car keys, which had thankfully been in my purse. “Are we eating here, or did you want to go out?”

  “I was thinking we’d make use of the cabana. That way I can get all the dirt, and no one will overhear all your sordid details.” She waggled her eyebrows at me suggestively, as if she didn’t believe for one second that I hadn’t had sex with Gio.

  Marcus kissed Daphne’s cheek before he headed back upstairs again, and my sister grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the beach.

  “Okay, spill. How the hell did you meet Gio, and why is this the first I’m hearing about him? He looks at you like you hung the moon, Hellie.”

  I opted for the truth, or as close to it as I could manage. “I caught him drawing me.” I smiled softly. “I was just sitting there, reading, and he wasn’t being subtle at all about staring at me while he drew me. At first, I thought he might’ve been a creep. A hot creep, but nonetheless.”

  “And we’re sure he’s not? I mean, you know what they say about artists.”

  I had no idea what stereotype she was about to spin, but I really didn’t want to hear it. I’d run through all the scenarios in my head already; I didn’t need her paranoia to feed my own. If Gio wasn’t on the up and up, then I would find out the hard way like I had with most of the men I’d let into my life, but I just didn’t feel it with him. He spent all the time making me happy rather than ensuring that I was making him happy. “Gio’s a good guy. Believe me, I wouldn’t let him meet my family if I was worried about it.”

  “Is he coming to the wedding? You know Mom’s just going to eat him up. She loves those tortured artist types. Especially ones who look like they could pose for a recreation of the David. But I bet Gio’s bigger. He’s bigger, right?”

/>   God, did I not want to discuss penis size with my little sister. “My lips are sealed.”

  “Around his cock, no doubt.” She laughed as one of the cabana staff walked up.

  We ordered, and as they left, I tried to steer the conversation away from Gio, away from the non-existent sex life that Daphne would no doubt keep asking about until I gave her something.

  But none of the usual topics could steer her away. She was like a dog with a juicy, meat-slathered bone that she wasn’t about to give up until she’d gnawed it to nothingness.

  Not even her wedding could derail her.

  After breakfast was served, she went right back to talking about Gio.

  “Seriously though, you invited him to the wedding, right? He’s going to look so good in the photos. Better than some of Marcus’s groomsmen.”

  “We’re going to his parents’ house before the wedding, but yes, we’ll be there all week. We wouldn’t miss a minute of all the fun you have planned.” I scanned the beach, half-hoping Gio would be out again, sketching some other woman, giving some indication that he wasn’t as perfect as I wanted to believe he was. “We should probably be in two rooms in the rental house though, if there’s room. Wouldn’t want mom to get any ideas.”

  “Please. Like anyone’s going to believe that the two of you aren’t doing it. I saw how he was looking at you at dinner.”

  “How was he looking at me?” I knew it sounded like I was playing dumb, but I really didn’t know what she was talking about. Gio had been a good actor, sure, but there was no way he’d actually been looking at me like anything more than… not like Marcus looked at Daphne.

  “Uh, like he wanted to have you for dessert? Come on, Hellie. Don’t act like the two of you aren’t getting all hot and sweaty together.”

  “All we did last night was talk and share a bottle of wine. I swear.” No matter how much I would’ve been tempted to do more than that.

 

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