Page 32 of Fiancée for the Cameras

How could he not, for the woman who had saved his mother’s life? He and Romeo had nearly shattered at Papa’s loss, so he could not even imagine their state if Mama had been hurt.

So yes, he would always “care” a little about this particular woman. Maybe even after they burnt out this chemistry.

When he had gotten back to bed, he had dragged her to the middle of it, to find her toes and fingers icy cold. The momenthe turned her to face him, she came awake with a start and instantly stiffened, her arm coming up to block him. His heart had twisted in his chest, and his throat had felt thick with raw anger. Startled yellow eyes met his, fear slipping through the deep flush of sleep. “It’s me,bella. You’re safe,” he’d said, running his hands through her long hair, kissing her temple.

In the next blink, she whispered something he couldn’t catch, her body softened and with a tentativeness that tugged at his heart, she burrowed into him all the way. Her trust was a gift more precious than any he’d ever wanted or received.

With her face pushed up into his throat, her feet tucked between his legs and her curves tightly pressed against his hard muscles, all her stretching and wriggling had turned him rock hard. Hands stroking her back, Andrea had kissed her, urging her to wake up. It took all of five seconds for their kiss to turn voracious, their hands seeking and stroking, and when he touched her folds, she’d almost flinched. When he’d inquired, she’d admitted she was sore and two seconds later, drifted off into sleep again.

With that niggle narrowed down to a crystal-clear realization, Andrea shot out of the bed now. Pulling on sweatpants, he marched into the lounge to find her on the open terrace, her black agenda open in front of her on the table along with a cup of coffee and a bowl of fruit.

Dressed in a peach-colored sleeveless blouse with a V-neck and dark skinny jeans that looked like they’d been made to showcase her long legs, and her hair in a French braid, she looked like the prim and proper assistant she’d been for nearly three years. But he knew what lay underneath that simplicity and shyness, and he liked it way too much that he alone knew that.

“How long have you been awake?”

Monica startled so badly at that voice that she almost spilled the coffee on herself. At the last second, she let the cup slide onto the table and take the brunt of it. Only after she’d wiped the stickiness off her fingers and her heart resumed a relatively normal pace—she needed new normals around this man—did she turn her head.

Andrea was standing at the entrance to the terrace, dressed in loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was a mess, his mouth was still swollen and there were deep, crescent-shaped marks right below his shoulder, thanks to her nails.

She flushed at the sight of him—with mortification but also with a visceral kind of satisfaction. Who knew she could be so possessive? Had all her instincts been lying dormant just waiting for the right man? What else would he unearth and unleash within her?

“Good morning,” she finally managed, getting up from her seat. “You’re out of the coffee beans you like but I ordered a different brand. I know you don’t like change but you’ll love this blend. I’ll have a cup of coffee and your omelet ready, if you want to wash up and get dressed.” With each word she uttered, he straightened from his relaxed pose and something she couldn’t decipher dawned in his eyes. “I have also had the contracts sent over here from the legal department so that I can take a look at this new round of changes Mr. Brunetti’s company is insisting on. I moved your appointment with Mr. Makiko to Tuesday, since you’re visiting the manufacturing plant on Monday,” she said, reading out the bullet points she’d marked on the agenda. “All the funds from yesterday’s gala have been cleared and routed to the charity foundation’s accountant. I have also had all your calls rerouted to me since I’ll be taking over as your assistant again. Your temp is returning to the accounts department.”

“Is that all?”

She shrugged and went to move past him. His fingers locked around her wrist, arresting her.

Monica shivered at the scent of his sun-warmed skin and the warmth from his bare chest and God, did he have to look so delicious first thing in the morning? Selfish wanton she was, she wished he would tug her closer so that she could soak in all of that heat from his body and kiss her senseless.

But he didn’t do any of it. Instead, he released her once she stopped moving, his black-as-night gaze examining her face with an intensity she wasn’t sure she could withstand without betraying herself.

Already, just the sight of him, disheveled and rough, had her body remembering the achy soreness she’d felt when she’d woken up, tangled around him. For long moments she’d stayed like that, her breath crashing through her as if she were a thief, intent on stealing something that didn’t belong to her. He had been in such deep sleep that even when she’d untangled herself from him, he hadn’t shaken.

Pushing herself up on her elbow, Monica had stared at him to her heart’s content, tracing the scar on his face, the deep, jagged patchwork of scars she’d missed on his hip last night. In the end, her desperate need as she lay there for close to half an hour, watching him like some sort of lovesick fool, had made the decision for her. She wasn’t going to cling to him or make any demands or even act like they’d done all the intimate things they’d done together. She would give him no reason for complaint, nor behave with even a whiff of lover-like expectations.

That was the only way this could work, the only way she could have him. So she’d done what she’d always done, put her head down and gone back to work, creating minimum ripples from him. She’d have even left the penthouse and given him space, ifshe could be sure her face wouldn’t betray her night’s activities to Romeo and Flora as if it were a high-def plasma television.

“Where did you get the clothes?” Andrea asked, startling her out of her reverie.

“I called the villa hoping to get Shania, Romeo’s physio. Instead, I got Flora,” she said, flushing.

His mouth twitched. “And?”

Monica sighed. “She made me give her a list of things I needed, packed all the things she made me buy at that boutique when she learned of our plans and told me she’d order two sets of toiletries, for here—” she moved her hand to indicate the penthouse “—and the villa because you don’t know your own schedule and I want to be wherever you are, right?” By the time she had finished the retelling, his grin had deepened and Monica wanted to thump him for laughing at her embarrassment. “You know how Flora gets when she decides on something. I barely got in two words.”

“Mama knowing about us bothers you. Why?”

“I don’t want her to think I’m taking advantage of the situation, of you.”

He laughed then, throwing his head back, drawing her attention to the column of his throat and his bobbing Adam’s apple and his lean chest. Mortification swirling through her, Monica let out a filthy curse and instantly felt wrong for doing it.

Andrea’s laughter doubled, and he had to bend down with his hands on his knees to balance himself. This time, when she went to pass him, muttering to herself, he not only stopped her again, but also lifted her in his arms, ignoring her rabbit-like squeal, walked into the lounge and sat down with her in his lap.

One arm wound around his neck, Monica drew in sharp breaths. An intense ribbon of longing held her in a chokehold as she stared at the deep grooves around his mouth. His eyesdanced with mirth and she thought he had never looked more heartbreakingly gorgeous.

“I’m glad to provide entertainment for you. Maybe I should also addclownto all the roles I perform for you.”

“Don’t tempt me about performing for me,bella,” he said, nuzzling under her jaw and drawing a straight line to her earlobe with his teeth. She shivered anew. “I might throw a list of bullet points for your agenda. Especially since I’m feeling deprived after waking up alone. You should have stayed in bed.”

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