Page 13 of Seduced by Her Billionaire Fake Fiancé

Her pale hair shifted as she nodded. His fingers itched to reach out and smooth it.

“As for your father, you’re lying to him for his own sake. You explained your reasoning; it’s sound. So don’t worry about it.”

Her lips parted so he found it impossible not to drop his attention there, then wished he hadn’t when his cock tightened against the fabric of his pants. She was both beautiful and sexy—and that was a complication he could do without, given the tantalizing prospect of what they were doing.

“Okay,” she said on a low breath, as the car pulled to a stop. “It’s showtime. Are you ready?”

Four

FOR THE SECOND TIME in as many days, Andie was besieged by uncharacteristic nervousness as the doors to her father’s floor of the building whooshed open and she was confronted by the familiar sight of his long-time secretary, Mrs. Paulson. Even though Mr. Paulson had died many years ago, to call her anything else was unthinkable.

“Hi, Mrs. Paulson. Is he in?”

“He’s expecting you,” the red-headed woman said with an efficient nod, her eyes skating sideways curiously.

“Good,” Andie responded without answering any questions about Max. That would all become apparent soon enough. “Thanks.”

Her legs were shaky as they crossed the marble floor towards her father’s office. She stopped outside the doors, took one look at Max and a million electric bolts went off in her belly.

“You’re sure about this?” She said under her breath, scanning his face.

Determination strengthened his already chiseled features. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

His certainty was contagious. He pushed the door inwards and in the same motion, reached down and grabbed Andie’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Perhaps he innately understood that if he’d done so earlier, she would have jerked her hand away, but under the watchful scrutiny of her father, Andie was trapped, her hand held by Max’s, which was large and warm and wrapped around her fingers so completely there was something inherently safe in his grip, even when she knew she was also dancing with the devil. The blood in her veins ignited. She was hot and cold all at once, her pulse racing, and just the simple touch of their hands was making the whole world spin too fast.

“Daddy,” she said unevenly, standing right where she was, then, finally, pulling at her hand, glad when he relinquished his grip, though he stayed close enough she could feel his warmth even when they weren’t touching.

“Andie?” Her father had aged so much in the past few years. Her heart ached for him, and she knew then how right this decision was. Max Valentino was someone she’d have to watch like a hawk, but he was also a brilliant businessman, and she had no doubt he’d be an asset, when it came to restoring Acto to its former glory.

“Hi daddy,” she walked to him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “How are you?”

His eyes flitted to Max, frowning. He didn’t answer her question. “Massimo Valentino, right?”

In his early fifties, Conrad Scott was a handsome man. With silver hair slicked back from his brow, eyes the same pale blue as Andie’s, he had once been a dynamic force in any room he stood. But time and life had wearied him, so his face bore more lines now than it should at his age, and despite his height, he stood a little sloped, as if trying to close himself off from the world.

“Max,” the younger man strode towards Conrad, hand outstretched.

“Right.” Neither man acknowledged that it was nice to meet the other, a small point Andie noted with amusement she couldn’t yet indulge. Later, when this was over, and she could breathe again, she could analyse how similar her father and Max were, in some ways. Though her father was not capable of being underhanded, she thought with a quick self-correction, whereas she truly believed Max would do whatever it took to achieve his aims.

It was just as well that their aim, at the moment, mostly correlated.

Conrad turned to Andie. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got news,” she said, nervous now, impossibly so. But this was the right answer. It was a way forward. She had to get through this excruciating conversation and then she could move on with her life, and with the running of the business she loved so much.

“We?”

Max’s hand low on her back surprised her. She startled; she couldn’t help it. She wasn’t used to being touched by any man, let alone him.

But he was playing his part, and so must she. With a slow breath out, she forced a smile, looked up at him in what she hoped was an approximation of love—she’d never known the feeling but had seen enough movies to do a good enough impression, she hoped. Except looking up at Max, their eyes locked, and something shifted inside Andie. The air in her lungs began to crackle and fizz, the blood in her veins became thick and warm—she was conscious of it gushing through her body. “We’re getting married,” Andie murmured, finding it impossible to look away from Max, especially when the hand at her back began to move up and down, slowly, rhythmically, in a way that made her overly aware of her body’s responses to him, as a man.

“We wanted you to be the first to know.” Max looked away with apparent ease, towards Conrad, smiling naturally, like he was the happiest man on earth. It was a smile that tilted the earth off its axis for Andie. When he smiled, he went from being handsome to being breath-taking, and Andie found that was exactly what was happening. For a moment, there was no breath in her body, and her eyes filled with stars.

Andie turned away—she had to. It was like looking at a solar eclipse. She looked instead at her father, saw the shock on his face, the surprise, the attempt to cover it, and guilt quickly replaced anything else she was feeling. But this was necessary, and her father’s surprise would be replaced by relief when she and Max turned Acto around.

“I didn’t even know you were dating,” he responded, frowning.

“It was a long-distance thing,” Andie supplied, the words rushed and hard to hear over her racing heart.

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