Page 7 of The Fiancé (Close Quarters 4)

I motion for him to turn around, so I can change into a clean uniform. The boss keeps spares on hand in case of “incidents” because god forbid the rich people see someone looking messy. Their perfectly coiffed heads might spontaneously combust.

“So, you’re making a speech, huh? Are you introducing the big guy?” I cringe as I peel the soggy shirt from my skin. “Daniel Moretti. He must be having a hell of a night what with trending on Twitter.”

I don’t know anything about the family who’s hosting this event. Of course, I’ve heard of Moretti Enterprises and the Cielo tower... I haven’t been living under a rock. But between relief teaching and catering shifts, applying for every education job in the city of Melbourneandtrying not to let my relationship with my mother turn into a dumpster fire, I don’t have the mental energy for internet gossip. However, the other catering staffloveto gossip about our clients, and I overheard them chattering about Daniel Moretti’s alleged affair earlier.

The man doesn’t respond. I slip the new shirt over my shoulders before realising that some of the sauce has soaked through to my bra. I grab a tissue from my pocket and try to get as much off as possible.

“I mean, that’s pretty low if he slept with his brother’s wife,” I say. Getting cheated on is awful. Heinous. Seeing how it turned my mother from a bright and vibrant young woman into someone negatively obsessed with security, I have a lot of sympathy for the brother. “I can’t imagine what that conversation would have been like. Brutal.”

That’s when I realise the manstillhasn’t responded.

A funny thought settles in the pit of my stomach. No, this can’t be him. Isn’t Daniel Moretti an older dude? This man in the closet with me is no more than midthirties, max.

But the silence stretches on and my stomach knots. Shrugging the paranoia off, I button up the fresh shirt and when I turn, he’s still facing the door. But even from behind I sense the change in him. His shoulders are tensed, pushing up toward his ears...like he’s about to Hulk out of his expensive-looking suit.

Uh-oh.

“I uh... I’m decent now.” I let out a nervous laugh. Dammit, I always give myself away. “You’ve gone all quiet. I’m starting to worry I’ve put my foot in my mouth.”

“I was curious to see what else you were going to say.” He turns and cocks his head. Now his eyes are blisteringly dark. So intense I wonder if it’s possible for him to burn me to ash. “What’s your take? Do you think it’s true?”

He wouldn’t have a reaction like this unless it affected him somehow. So either he’s the guy accused of having the affair, or the brother who’s supposedly been cheated on. Either way, he could cause me a lot of trouble.

Shit.

My heart pounds. I can’t lose this job now, not aftereverythingthat’s happened today. If I suffer one more humiliation I might sink into the ground and cease to exist. Besides, I need every penny to make sure I don’t end up back at home with my mother.

I’m not sure our relationship would survive it.

“I don’t think I should comment,” I say, trying to tuck my shirt into my pants. But my hands are clumsy and I can’t seem to drag my eyes away from his beautiful, angry, glittering gaze.

“Please.” He motions for me to go on. “Indulge my curiosities.”

Think, brain, think. How can you get out of this diplomatically?

“Well... I think the media will write whatever sells the most advertising, regardless of truth. And I think the two brothers need to have a serious, honest chat and leave everyone else’s opinions to one side.”

Very good. Well done, brain.

“So, which brother are you?” The question slips out before I have time to consider the consequences. Story of my life.

“Daniel Moretti.” He sticks his hand out. “Falsely accused.”

When his palm slides against mine, sparks skitter pleasantly along my skin. I’m jolted with flashing images of silken sheets and naked bodies and those big, strong hands sliding all over me. The fantasy is sharp and real, and for a brief second it steals my breath.

“Ava Matthews,” I reply, trying to keep my voice from wobbling. “Barely employed teacher by day.”

He raises an eyebrow. “And by night?”

“Catering waitress who can’t keep her mouth shut.”

“At least you said it to my face.” He rakes a hand through his hair and a crease forms above his nose. “Unlike most people here.”

“I’m subtle as a ton of bricks, as my mum used to say.” I drag my gaze away from Daniel’s exquisite features and continue to tuck my fresh shirt into my pants. Unfortunately, I still look rumpled in spite of my efforts. “But I’ll take the compliment.”

“You should.” His expression is smooth and clear, but his eyes are locked on to mine with an intensity that makes me feel like I’m half-naked. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who simply looks. No. His gaze bores into me. Strips me back. Holds me totally and utterly captive.

I honestly don’t remember the last time a man looked at me like that, but it feels phenomenal. Yeah, yeah, I know I shouldn’t really want that, especially while stuck in a supply closet with a guy I don’t know.

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