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Pretending with the Greek Billionaire

Page 6

by Kira Archer


  He laughed and Constance relaxed into her chair. He might not be thrilled with the situation—hell, who was? But he wouldn’t make an issue out of it. For the moment.

  He glanced down at his watch. “I’m afraid I’ve got to be going.” He signaled the server and handed over his credit card to pay for their drinks. The young man returned quickly with his card and her father stood and held out his arms. She savored the hug. He wasn’t a demonstrative man, but she knew he loved her.

  “I’ll trust that you know what you’re doing,” he said, giving her one last squeeze before letting her go. “And that you’ll let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will,” she said, almost limp with relief that the meeting was over. Now, if she could get him out of there before Luca showed up. She had no desire for the two men to meet.

  “Good.” He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Because if he doesn’t treat you right, I know people. Keep that in mind.”

  Constance laughed at that and shook her head as he walked away, and not a moment too soon. Luca’s car pulled up to the door just as she stepped outside. Say what you will about him, but the man had impeccable timing.

  He jumped out and hurried around to get the door for her, pulling her in for a quick kiss before she could get inside.

  “Quit doing that,” she muttered.

  “Not a chance. It’s the best perk of this whole situation and I have every intention of taking advantage of it.”

  He stepped away from the door and she slipped inside as quickly as she could.

  Constance settled back against the leather seat of Luca’s car, her heart still pounding furiously, and not from the realization that there had been a photographer hidden in the bushes earlier, or that she’d just told her father, and everyone else important in her life, that she was getting married. She licked her lips, letting her teeth lightly scrape along the flesh that still tingled from where he’d kissed her. Her heart was trying to jump out of her chest because of him.

  She’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Just getting close the first time they’d met had swept her up so much she’d almost forgotten herself, which was exactly what had gotten her into this whole mess in the first place. She didn’t know what it was about him. Yeah, sure the man was chiseled like he’d been carved from solid marble and exuded sex like some kind of walking pheromone. But a simple kiss, even from a walking wet dream like Luca, shouldn’t totally eradicate twenty-seven years of strict upbringing. It was all well and good to be passionate in the bedroom, but somehow the man had reduced her to making out in the streets like some hormonal tart. What was truly terrifying was she didn’t even think he was trying. Heaven help her if he put any real effort into seducing her.

  Constance inwardly rolled her eyes at herself at the tart thought, wishing she could get rid of her grandmother’s voice scolding her in her own head. Still, the thought stood. Supreme example of a male specimen or not, she should have better control over herself. Maybe it was because he kept catching her unawares. Both the near and actual kisses had been ambush jobs, sprung on her when she wasn’t expecting it. Surely, if she knew they were coming she’d be able to keep a bit more composure about her.

  He hopped in his side and glanced at her over the rim of his sunglasses. “So? How did it go?”

  “As well as can be expected,” she said.

  “Excellent. Here.” He reached to the backseat and came back with what looked like a shoebox. “I got you something.”

  “What is this?”

  He pulled the car away from the restaurant and out onto the main road. “Open it and find out.”

  She wasn’t sure if she should be afraid or excited by that exuberant lilt in his voice. She opened the box. She still wasn’t sure how to feel. Inside lay the cutest pair of gold sandals with a little strap that went around the ankle. They looked like something she’d have worn before she had six kids and focused more on comfort than fashion.

  “Luca…I don’t know what to say…”

  “Do you like them?”

  He actually sounded like he was worried she might not.

  “I love them. But…”

  “Nope. No buts. The saleswoman assured me they are so comfortable you’ll think you’re walking on clouds. Or some nonsense like that.”

  “Thank you,” she said, not sure if she should say anything else. She’d never had a man buy her shoes before.

  He nodded. “There’s several more pairs in the trunk, along with some other clothes.”

  “What?” she said, her gratitude quickly evaporating.

  He shrugged. “If you’re going to be my fiancée you need to dress the part.”

  “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”

  He looked her up and down before turning his gaze back to the road. “You’re not completely hopeless.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Except for those shoes of yours. Try on the new ones.”

  She had a good mind to take one and smack him upside the head with it, but the leather was deliciously soft and her old sandals were about ready to fall apart. Wouldn’t hurt to try them. She slid them on her feet and had to bite her lip to keep from groaning. Walking on a cloud indeed. The whole charade might be worth it just for those shoes.

  “We’ll be at the shop soon. Ready?”

  She stared into those deep brown eyes of his, the faint hazelnut taste of him still on her lips, and took a shuddering breath. “Not really, but it’s not going to get any better with waiting. Let’s get this over with.”

  “Most women are a little more excited at the prospect of jewelry.”

  Constance crossed her arms, fully aware she was pouting and not caring at all. “It seems wrong. It’s not like a little pair of earrings or something.”

  “You’d prefer earrings?”

  She groaned. “That’s not what I meant.”

  His lips twitched and her eyes narrowed. He was having entirely too much fun at her expense.

  “Then what did you mean?” he asked.

  “A diamond ring is expensive, even a small one. It’s a waste of money and completely unnecessary.”

  “First of all, it’s very necessary. People will expect you to be flashing some serious bling. And secondly, don’t worry about the money. I’ve got plenty of it.”

  “You don’t say,” she said, drily.

  “Sell the damn thing when we’re done and give the money to some charity if it’ll make you feel better, but you’re getting a ring.”

  She mulled that over for a second. It wasn’t a bad idea and did actually ease her mind about the whole thing. If he was going to insist on spending the money, she might as well put it to good use.

  “All right then. I will.”

  He shook his head, but let the matter drop. And thankfully, he didn’t discuss the whole kissing episode either. She supposed she had a great deal more of that to look forward to. Although dread was probably a better word, and she’d keep telling herself that. Maybe she’d believe it. Either way, she needed to make sure she kept a handle on things. She had her girls to think about. They were all that mattered and she needed to make sure that nothing that was about to happen would negatively affect them in any way. They needed to come first, no matter what.

  Luca eased out onto the road. Once he’d navigated through the narrowest of the streets, he held out a hand. She glanced at it, then him, completely confused.

  He blew out an exasperated breath. “Take my hand, Stanzia.”

  “Stop calling me that. My name is Constance.”

  “Why do you dislike me calling you Stanzia so much?”

  She didn’t. That was the problem. She’d never had a nickname before. She’d always been Constance, even when she was little. Beyond the novelty of it, having the soft sounds of his pet name for her rolling off his tongue made things ache inside that she didn’t want to examine too closely. She could imagine him whispering that name to her in the dark all too well. It was melodic and exot
ic and unique, and she was none of those things. But when he used that name, she felt like she was, and with him maybe she could be. But then what? Then she’d go back to her real life and Stanzia would be gone. She’d be Constance again. Better to remain Constance. Keep that layer of distance between them that the pet name shattered.

  When she didn’t answer, he just shook his head and stuck his hand out again. “Take my hand.”

  She frowned. The thought of holding his hand sent a warm ball of fuzzies spreading through her. Her fingers itched to curl around his; all the more reason to resist.

  “What for?”

  He briefly glanced at her, then back out the windshield. “Because you jump ten feet every time I get anywhere near you. We need to get used to each other and practice makes perfect, as they say.”

  She still looked at his offered hand like it was a bomb ready to go off. It might not be in the literal sense, but voluntarily letting him touch her in any way was just another sexual accident waiting to happen.

  “Stanzia. Do you want this little charade to work or not? Take my hand.”

  She sighed, knowing full well she was being ridiculous. Holding hands. It was a small enough thing to do.

  “Fine,” she said, slipping her hand into his. She couldn’t stop the little shiver of pleasure that skated up her spine as his warm skin slid across hers.

  He laced their fingers together and turned his attention back to the road, although his thumb lazily caressed the back of her hand. It was such a sweet gesture, intimate even. She resisted the urge to squirm and focused her attention on the gorgeous island scenery flowing past her window. After a few minutes she began to relax, the rhythmic stroking of his thumb becoming almost soothing, or at least it would have been had the thumb doing the stroking belonged to anyone other than Luca.

  “So,” he said, startling her out of her momentary comfort zone. “How long have you lived on the island?”

  Her gut reaction was to tell him to mind his own business, but she supposed they did need to get to know each other a little. “About five years.”

  “What brought you out here?”

  “My father worked at the embassy in Athens. I came out with him from New York and fell in love with it. Mykonos was always my favorite. I always meant to go back home, but then I started helping out with the Family Aid groups and decided to make things permanent.”

  He shook his head. “You just made things permanent? Took on six children for the rest of your life on a whim?”

  “I didn’t say it was on a whim. I didn’t come to the decision lightly. But they needed me. I’d been helping in the house Sophia, Magdalena, Callie, and Elena were in, so they knew me. Trusted me. And I already loved them. Their House Mother fell ill and wasn’t going to be able to continue caring for them. There were no other homes available that could take so many. If I hadn’t stepped up, Sophia, Magdalena, and Callie might have been split up. I couldn’t let that happen. With Lexi and Irene, it was the same thing. And Elena…” Her smile grew a bit sad. “I already had more kids than I’d meant to take on, but she doesn’t trust many people. Won’t even speak to most people. We formed a bond, somehow. I figured she was meant to be with me.”

  He nodded, but a small crease in his forehead suggested he couldn’t quite understand her choices. She didn’t expect someone like him to understand so it was hardly surprising.

  “Aren’t you curious about where I live when I’m not here? What I do?” he asked.

  Constance shrugged. “I don’t read the tabloids, of course, but I’ve heard enough of the gossip to know most of it, I think.”

  Luca’s face hardened. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “Those so-called journalists don’t know anything about me.”

  She searched his face, hoping for a hint as to what he was really thinking. She couldn’t possibly have hurt his feelings. Could she? Shame tugged at her. Despite his playboy reputation—and nothing she’d seen so far had suggested the gossip about Luca was anything but true—even a man like him must have feelings. Whether the stories she’d heard were true or not, it must suck to have people assume they knew everything about you when they didn’t even know you.

  “You’re right. I apologize,” she said.

  He glanced at her, a bit surprised, but waved it off. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “So, spill it then. I know you don’t live here full time, and I can’t imagine that even half the stories I’ve heard can be true. So what do you do when you’re not in Greece?”

  Luca’s body relaxed and the tension level in the car decreased.

  “I’m in New York frequently, so we have that in common. And if all this works and I start running the New York offices I suppose I’ll spend most of my time there.”

  She’d known that much. She’d seen the pictures to prove how much he enjoyed the nightlife the city offered. But she kept her mouth shut and let him talk.

  “I try to come here a few times a year. It’s quieter but still offers more than enough entertainment, and even with paparazzi roaming around, it’s still not as bad as back in the States. Usually. I’m afraid our little escapade yesterday might have stirred up the hornets a bit.”

  “To put it mildly,” Constance said, letting the sarcasm liberally soak her words.

  “Anyway,” he said, the eye roll evident in his tone, “my family is in real estate. I guess I don’t spend as much time at the office as my father would like.”

  “Do you spend any time there?”

  Luca scowled at her and Constance braced herself against the natural inclination to cringe.

  “I keep abreast of what’s going on. My father has always had everything under control. He doesn’t need me there.”

  Before Constance could dig at that particular can of worms, Luca turned down a narrow lane and weaved the car through several more streets before finally pulling to a stop in front of a jewelry store set in among the other shops on a typical brightly colored street. This shop was definitely more upscale than the rest. The façade looked carved from marble with double glass doors instead of the whitewashed stone and bright blue or red painted wood doors of the surrounding shops. Her stomach bottomed out. She couldn’t go in there. What had they been thinking? She couldn’t be engaged…especially to someone like him. She was so ordinary and he was the playboy prince of the Mediterranean.

  Luca got out and walked to her side, opening her door. When she didn’t get out he poked his head inside, getting way too up close and personal. She tried to sit back farther but was already up against the seat. His gaze dropped to her bare legs and lingered for several moments before looking back at her face. His smile nearly stole her breath away.

  “Coming?”

  That sent all sorts of inappropriate thoughts flying through her head. She’d never survive six weeks of him. “You know this is crazy, right?” she said to try and excuse her suddenly heated cheeks and short breath. “No one is going to believe it.”

  Luca took her hand and tugged her from the car. “Of course they will. Your boss didn’t seem to suspect anything. I don’t see why anyone else would.”

  “Everyone will believe you because you tell them to?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “You really are arrogant, you know that?”

  He shrugged. “Is it arrogance if it’s true?” Then he frowned. “Why are you so convinced no one will buy this?”

  Was he really going to make her say it? He stared at her, waiting for an answer. Apparently he was.

  “I’m not the type of woman you usually date.”

  That amused grin was back. “What type of woman do I usually date?”

  Constance did roll her eyes at that one. “Supermodels. Actresses. Tall, thin, gorgeous women with legs up to their necks and paparazzi of their own. I’m attractive enough, I guess, but I’m hardly who people will expect you to be marrying.”

  Luca helped her from the car but instead of step
ping back, he pulled her into his arms. She pulled against him a little, noticing the people beginning to stare. His car was impossible to miss. And so was Luca. People were starting to point and whip out their cell phones.

  “Everyone is watching.”

  He held on tighter. “Good. That’s the point. You need to learn to ignore them. Pretend they aren’t there. Unless they are right in your face, it’s not too hard. The tourists will keep back.”

  “I thought you were against PDA.”

  “I am, when it’s for real. But we want to put on a show, remember?”

  Her eyes still darted back and forth until he captured her face in his hands and forced her to look at him.

  “Ignore them.” He leaned in and kissed her until her mind fogged and she couldn’t remember what she was nervous about. When he pulled away, she remained passive in his arms. Was sedation by seduction possible?

  “Now that I have your attention,” he said, smiling down at her like he was perfectly aware of his effect. “You are more than just ‘attractive enough’ and I would be happy to demonstrate how beautiful I think you are any time you want. I’ve never given a fuck what other people think and I have no intention of starting now. However, it would help matters if you’d stop acting like this was a sham and start acting the part.”

  He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and instead of jerking away she let herself enjoy the sensation of his lips moving over hers. It was over all too soon. He pulled away and took her hand again.

  “For the next six weeks, Stanzia, you are mine. Don’t forget it.”

  Oh she wouldn’t. It was all she could think about. But what happened once their time was up? He’d already stirred desires she had no time or energy to deal with, and she had no room for that kind of male-induced drama in her life. No price was too high to pay to keep her girls with her.

  But spending six weeks with Luca might be dangerously close.

  Chapter Six

  Luca watched Constance’s eyes widen until her eyebrows nearly hit her hairline as the selection of rings was presented. The jeweler kept placing massive ring upon massive ring in front of her, clearly aware of Luca’s ability to pony up the cash and determined to make the biggest sale possible. Constance, however, wasn’t making the job easy. She waved off every gaudy monstrosity the jeweler tried to put on her finger. A fine sheen of sweat formed on the man’s brow, probably at the prospect that she wouldn’t find anything to her liking and he’d lose an enormous sale.

 

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