Page 37 of Seduced by Her Billionaire Fake Fiancé

“I have Sophie.”

Carlisle’s eyes flickered with something, and Andie realized her mistake at the same time he spoke. “And Max?”

Andie’s throat hurt. She forced a smile. “I’m fine, Carlisle. Honestly, I am. All I want you to concentrate on right now is getting better and staying better. Can you do that, please?”

“I’m trying,” he agreed, putting an arm around his sister’s shoulders, and drawing her to his side.

When she returnedfrom the rehab centre, she realized almost as soon as she walked in the door that Max was back. His shoes sat neatly in the foyer, and his coat was hanging up beside hers.

Just the sight of that, and the ordinary domesticity of it, made her stomach roll and her body respond with a sort of tingling ache. She stopped walking, took in a deep breath, steadying her nerves, then made herself go through the motions of being normal. She wouldn’t go looking for him. Things had to return to how they’d been before. They’d slept together, but after that, they’d basically ignored each other, and she had no reason to presume anything would be different now.

Only Max was in the kitchen, and he was doing the last thing she could have expected: he was cooking.

He must have heard her walk in because he turned almost as soon as she stepped into the room.

“Ciao.”

She steadied her erratic heart, refusing to let the irregular, rushed pulse overtake her, but it did anyway, beat by frantic beat.

“You’re back,” she said, intentionally not using the word ‘home’ because this wasn’t his home and never would be. He was a guest here, as she was at his place. Even when thoughts of his villa made her heart yearn to return, to be caught in that magical afternoon light, looking out towards the citrus grove, surrounded by the ancient building.

“I was away longer than I initially thought. I’m sorry. We had a small emergency in our Florence office.”

“You don’t owe me an apology, Max, nor an explanation.” She grabbed a bottle of mineral water from the fridge. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a shower.”

But Max was right there, his hand catching her wrist, holding her steady, so she couldn’t leave the room and was wide open for him to look at and appraise and damn it, to see too much if she wasn’t careful, because he was so perceptive, and she wasn’t good enough at hiding her innermost thoughts.

“How are you?”

She jerked her hand away. Not because she didn’t like him to touch her, but because she liked ittoomuch and wanted more. More of him, more of this.

“I’m fine.” Her smile was brittle. “Excuse me.”

After showeringand changing into some yoga pants and a sweater, she headed towards the kitchen in search of something to eat, only to find that Max had set the table for two, put a playlist on through the speakers and was serving up food in the kitchen.

“What is this?” She asked, though it was self-evident.

“Dinner.” He flicked a glance at her. “Hungry?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to demur but then her stomach betrayed her, growling noisily. “I guess so,” she admitted, grudgingly.

His grin pulled at something in the centre of her chest.

“You don’t smile enough,” she said, without thinking it through.

He returned his focus to the food. “Don’t I?”

He’d poured two glasses of wine. Andie reached for one, took a sip. “No. You have a nice smile.”

“I’m not sure anyone’s ever said that to me before.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“Thank you.”

Her chest fizzed. She tamped down on whatever she was feeling. Pleasure, anticipation, most importantly, warmth. Stupid, weakening feelings that had no place here.

“What happened in Italy?” She asked, distracted by the fragrance of his cooking.

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