by A. C. Arthur
He was just a guy and there was no need for her to act any differently because she’d thought about this guy all night long.
“The others on my team will be here in a few moments. After I make the introductions, they’ll take you to an office we had set up for you and get you started on the integration.”
“But you’re going to stay here,” she said slowly. “You have other work to do. More important work.”
He ran a hand over his chin and sat back in his chair. For endless moments he didn’t speak, only stared at her as if he were memorizing everything about her. It made her wonder if he was possibly reconsidering this distance he’d decided to put between them, but then he cleared his throat and shook his head.
“I run an entire department as well as a few outside projects. I can’t be at every meeting.”
Nor did she need him at every meeting with her. She was being silly when she was supposed to be presenting a strong and unshakable front. That had to stop now.
“Great. I’m ready to get started. There’s nothing on our agenda for tonight, so I’ll make some plans to take in another play or possibly do some shopping to pick up something nice for my dad.” And he didn’t need to know all of that.
“Sounds good,” he told her and went back to staring at whatever papers were on his desk.
Well, that hadn’t been awkward at all. Except, yeah, it had.
Obviously, Major wasn’t as good as she was about being calm, cool and collected. When Ken and Jenner, who’d been in her first meeting, came into the room, she stood and shook their hands. Major made more formal introductions and they ushered her out of his office. He didn’t say another word to her and she didn’t bother to look back at him or say anything else to him, either. If this was how they were to conduct their working relationship, so be it. She hadn’t signed up for anything more, anyway.
* * *
Three days later, Nina sat in the backseat of the town car looking out the window while Claude drove through traffic. This afternoon her style was sexy bohemian. At least, that’s what Lila had told her three hours ago when she’d entered Nina’s hotel room as if she were a runway model.
“You’re going to look subtly sexy in this, honey!”
Nina had smiled at the woman’s exaggeration as she spoke. She was getting used to how the woman talked and worked. And since this was the first runway show she’d ever attended in person, Nina figured she’d trust the stylist’s directive. Riley had also told Nina she could decline to wear anything Lila suggested if she truly didn’t like it or felt uncomfortable, but Nina was finding it pretty easy to trust the woman’s judgment.
And true to form, Lila had been correct. The light material fell over her body like a soft breath, the muted-color stripes complementing her complexion. The plunging halter neckline was super sexy. She wondered how Major would react to seeing her in the dress.
Number three on his list of things they weren’t going to do anymore was “touch each other sexually.” And he hadn’t, not since the night they’d had the hard, fast and totally titillating sex in her hotel room.
Of course, not touching had been much easier since they’d only been together one other time following the meeting in his office the day after their sexcapade.
Yesterday’s lunch had been at Sarabeth’s Central Park South, a restaurant where Desta knew they would retain maximum visibility. And she’d been right; they’d been stared at the entire time they were eating by other guests at the restaurant and even some of the staff. Nina was certain that a few people snuck pictures on their cell phones. But there’d been no touching. In fact, Major seemed to have gone out of his way to be as reserved as he possibly could—a fact that was slowly starting to bug her.
Not for the obvious reasons. She wasn’t falling for him and didn’t need him to reciprocate feelings that weren’t there. But they did need to appear comfortable with each other for their charade to be believable.
Nina brushed those ideas from her mind as the car came to a stop in front of what looked like an industrial building. The itinerary stated she would be attending an intimate showing of RGF’s couture gowns with Major.
“I’ll walk you inside,” Claude said when he opened the door for her.
Nina stepped out onto a quiet sidewalk in the Financial District, which was in stark contrast to the streets around her hotel or the RGF building. Claude closed the car door and walked with her a few feet until he could open a huge steel door for her to enter.
Inside, the place looked very different. Golden lights hung in large circles from an exposed-beam ceiling, creating soft light that mingled with the natural light pouring in from a wall of paned windows. Bleached hardwood floors stretched throughout and up the wide staircase.
“I’ll call when I’m ready,” she told Claude after she’d looked around, but he was already shaking his head.
“No need. Mr. Gold informed me that he would take care of your transportation for the remainder of the evening.”
Oh he did, did he? Well she wondered what that meant.
But it was too late to think too hard on that because Maurice came up to her, devilishly handsome smile already in place.
“Hey, Nina. How are you?”
“I’m great. How’s everything going here? Is there anything I can do to help?”
His thick brows furrowed, an action she’d seen Major do on a few occasions. It was amazing how much alike the two of them were without being identical. There was, of course, a resemblance—but there were differences, as well. While Major seemed to always be in control of his thoughts and actions, Maurice gave off a more relaxed demeanor. His ready smile, and that twinkle in his eyes she knew women were most likely dying for, identified him as the more extroverted twin.
“Not at all. We’ve got a great event staff and they’re taking care of everything. How’ve your first few days been at the fashion house?”
“So far, so good,” she replied. “The integration went better than expected and we’ve already started to see sales.”
“Cool. That sounds like a good sign.”
“It is. And this place is great, so I know the show will be terrific. I’m really excited to be here.” And that wasn’t a part of the charade.
“The production team has put a lot of planning into it, so I’m sure you’re right and it’ll be terrific. But we’re about to start and I was told to escort you to your seat.”
He extended his arm to her and she accepted it, telling herself there was no need to ask who’d sent him. It was Major, who was obviously still trying to keep his distance.
The room they entered was full of photographers standing with cameras in hand, and she was willing to bet there were several reporters, bloggers and fashion journalist seated in the chairs positioned in rows around a glossy white runway.
The show started seconds after she sat, and she crossed her legs, trying to ignore the empty seat beside her. Maurice had walked behind a black curtain and, when Nina looked around, she didn’t notice anyone else. But there were many eyes on her, so instead of looking the way she felt—confused and teetering on angry—she smiled and pushed one heavy curl of hair behind her ear. Anything was better than the obvious—that Major wasn’t with her.
The music was hip-hop, the models were amazing and the gowns exquisite. When the show was over, Nina stood, clapping just as loudly as anyone else in the room. Until Major stepped up beside her.
“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said when he leaned in to whisper in her ear.
“Glad you could finally join me,” she replied without turning to look at him.
Maurice and two other men stepped through the black curtain with smiles and partial bows as the crowd continued to applaud in appreciation of the twelve gowns they’d just been treated to. Cameras were busy clicking throughout the space.
“We’re going to go out
this side door before the crowd begins to disperse. The room is set up for a press conference, but Maurice and the designers from today’s collection are prepared to deal with it. We’re just here to be seen.”
He spoke to her like he would to any other employee and Nina tried her best to accept his cool demeanor as the new norm.
“Fine. Shall we go now?”
This time she did look at him, but she ignored the way the beige jacket hung enticingly on his broad shoulders. The white shirt that molded to his chest and the matching beige slacks completed what should have been a bland outfit choice but instead, on him, was just another symbol of how attractive this man really was. He nodded at her and she stepped in front of him, walking toward the only exit she saw and praying he was following closely behind her. Otherwise it might appear that she was angry and walking away from him, something that would most likely set tongues to wagging.
“It should only take twenty minutes, then we have reservations for dinner. After that we’ll be done for the night.”
“I read the itinerary, Major. I know what we have to do tonight.”
He snapped his lips shut tightly and when she thought he might give a different retort, the first of the reporters filed into the room. Maurice came up behind them and Major clapped one hand on his brother’s shoulder while shaking the other.
“Another slam dunk,” he said.
“You bet your ass!” Maurice replied. “Cordell and Expo are phenomenal designers. This limited Spring in the City line is going to do great, especially once it hits the overseas market.”
As if to magnify his words, Cordell Spriggs and Expo—one name only—the designers who had walked the runway and taken their bows with Maurice, came up to join them.
“Congratulations,” Nina said, looking at each of them. “The dresses were fabulous.”
“Thanks,” Cordell said. “You should wear one to something. Maybe as your second outfit at the reception. We can make some changes, cater it specifically to you and your theme. Have you selected a theme for the wedding yet?”
Her mouth opened then shut, and then she simply shrugged. “Not just yet. But your gowns have definitely given me some ideas.”
“It’s time to get the press conference started,” Major interjected. “We don’t want to mess up our timeline.”
“He’s right,” Maurice added after a questioning look between Major and Nina.
Maurice stepped up to the podium, an act that quieted the crowd already assembled in the room.
“Thank you for coming this afternoon. Now, as promised, for the next fifteen minutes, we’re going to take a few questions.”
A woman in the front row raised her hand and immediately stood.
“I have a question for the new addition to the Gold family, Nina Fuller,” she said pointedly. “What’s it like working with your fiancé? You’ve joined the Gold family on two levels—business and pleasure. How did you and Major manage to keep not only your engagement but also your new business partnership a secret for so long?”
Silence filled the room as all eyes rested on her. For a few seconds, Nina wondered if she should speak and, if so, what she would say. Maurice came to the rescue.
“Let me clarify, Cordell, Expo and myself will accept questions about today’s show.”
“Then why are they here?” the reporter persisted with a nod of her head at Nina and Major. “Are they just showpieces for the company?”
She was brash and persistent, wearing a black jumpsuit and red mules on her feet. The way she was staring at Nina said she knew something that nobody else knew. Or that she was making an assumption that maybe others were too afraid to make.
“If the Fashion House Playboy is actually getting married, why can’t we talk to him or his fiancée about it? Why wasn’t the business collaboration announced the other night at the Sip ’n’ Chat? Oh, and the most important question, where’s her engagement ring?”
It took every ounce of control Nina possessed to not look down at her left hand or the finger she knew was missing an engagement ring. Dammit! Why hadn’t she thought of that in her quest to make this fake plan seem as real as possible?
A better question: Why should they have to talk about anything they didn’t want to, or that wasn’t directly related to this show? But then, that’s how this marketing plan was supposed to work—to spark interest and keep the buzz going around the Golds and their new bridal collection. It was her debut in the industry and its very public lifestyle, so if she didn’t like invasive questions about an engagement ring she probably should’ve been wearing, well then, she’d just have to get over it.
“I’m not in the habit of answering questions about my personal life,” Nina said to the shock of everyone in the room, except maybe the reporter.
Nina moved until she was behind the podium, multiple microphones banked on the edge to point directly at her.
“But I recognize your need to intrude, especially since we made such a bold and exciting announcement just a few days ago.”
“Exactly,” the reporter replied with a look of measured satisfaction. “Shall I repeat my question?”
Nina held her gaze and smiled. “That’s not necessary. Major and I believe in keeping our personal relationship to ourselves. So while we’ve announced our engagement, and you’ll probably be hearing a lot more about the upcoming wedding plans, everything else between us, including the ring, will stay that way. Regardless of how many surprise questions are tossed at us. And on the business front, the At Your Service app is designed to work alongside fashion houses to offer customers a complete experience. There was an announcement on the home pages of RGF’s domestic and international websites a few days ago, which is how I presume you found out, so that hardly qualifies as a secret.”
The woman’s smirk faltered a bit at Nina’s words and, out of the corner of her eye, Nina could see Maurice grinning. She didn’t bother to try to see Major’s reaction. He probably wasn’t having any.
“So you’ve been dating for four months and now you’re getting married. How nice. When’s the big day? Have you picked out a dress? Will Riley be one of your bridesmaids? I must admit I thought if there were going to be a wedding in the Gold family, it would be Riley. But then again, she is dating the company’s biggest competitor, so making that union legal would probably be a stretch.”
This woman is a piece of work. Correction, she’s an ass.
“So glad you mentioned Riley. She’s been such a great sister-in-law-to-be these past few days. You’re correct in assuming she’ll be in the wedding, along with my sisters, and we’ll all be wearing dresses from the Golden Bride Collection. I’m very excited about selecting the perfect gowns. Are there any more questions about the wedding plans, or should I turn this over to the talented men who made today’s show possible?”
Another reporter thankfully spoke up, directing a question to Expo and the phenomenal—his word, not hers—turquoise gown they’d just seen in the show’s finale.
As Nina stepped away from the podium, Major reached for her hand. She hesitated just a second, looking up at him in question. His facial expression was still grim and he didn’t offer any explanation, but she placed her hand in his and stood beside him for the remainder of the press conference. If he’d thought them not touching for the past few days was in any way going to dull their attraction to each other, he was wrong.
Warmth instantly spread through her body at his touch and her fingers clung to his as they walked. He didn’t say a word until they were in the backseat of the car, and that was when he pulled her so close her lips parted on instinct in preparation for his kiss.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I’M NOT GOING to kiss you, not again.” The words hurt his throat as they came out in a scratchy growl.
His chest was heaving as anger poured through him. How dare that annoying Morgana McCloud question
Nina the way she did? Major should have known this would happen. There were some reporters and bloggers who hated that he never gave them the comments or interviews they requested. Morgana hated that he’d never accommodated her and that he’d never accepted any of the advances she’d made toward him. If he were the loneliest man on earth, he wouldn’t have sought the company of such a woman. He’d known a woman like her before and had sworn to never again get sucked into their clutches.
Now the news about At Your Service was out and that had him wondering once again about the division of Brand Integrated that involved accessorizing for fashion house designs that was very similar to Nina’s. When Brand Integrated made its appearance in the fashion world, there was no doubt that very fact would be mentioned. But their charade would be over by then.
“I...um, I didn’t ask you to kiss me,” she said and then licked her lips.
But she didn’t pull away from him. They were in the backseat of the limo he’d reserved for tonight. He released the grasp on her arm and extended one hand to press the button that would close the privacy barrier between them and the front seat.
“It’s what got me in trouble the first time. The kiss.” He shook his head because he knew he sounded irrational, but that was exactly how he was feeling. It was how he’d been feeling for the past few days, the longer he’d stayed away from her. “Kissing is too intimate. I’m not going to do it again,” he stated, trying to calm his tone because her eyes had grown a little wider.
“I’m not going to ask you to kiss me, or to do anything with me, Major.” She looked down to where his other hand still gripped her arm and then back up to him in question.
He pulled back as if he’d been burned, cursing at the mere sight of his fingers pressing into her arm. “I’m sorry,” he said and sat back against the seat. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
And that was the truth. He didn’t know what was happening to him because whatever it was had never happened before. So he’d slept with her, big deal. He’d slept with other women before, and he and Nina were pretending to be a couple, so it should’ve been fair game. Everything that had happened between them up to this point had been consensual, so why had he needed to write that list creating rules to separate them? And if he’d thought that list was the best plan for them to move forward without any threat of entanglements later, then why had he spent these past few days feeling like crap and needing desperately to be alone with her, to see her, to touch her?