Page 42 of Seduced by Her Billionaire Fake Fiancé

“I like that,” she said.

“In Italy, food is more than sustenance.”

“I saw that with your family,” she murmured. “So many courses.”

“It’s flavour and it’s ritual and it’s connection. You’ll learn.”

Except she wouldn’t learn, because she wouldn’t change. Not because of Max, and their fake engagement.

“I’m okay with cereal for dinner,” she said, deliberately closing down the romance of his description, the sentimentality of his words.

“That’s a shame. Life is too short to eat cardboard.”

She burst out laughing. “Cereal isnotcardboard.”

“It might as well be.” And he was so incensed, she couldn’t even tell if he was joking. “Now try this.”

He moved to the stove and dipped a spoon in the sauce from a pot behind the chicken, carrying it to her lips. “Open.”

She wasn’t sure she was motivated by food,butshe did like being fed by Max—a thought she intended to keep to herself.

He pressed the spoon to her lips, tilted it, so the sauce—hot and creamy and so flavourful—filled her mouth. A small groan escaped her. “That’s really good. Did you actually make that?”

His smile was teasing. “It is not hard.”

“It’s delicious.”

“See? Food. It’s good.”

Their second night eating dinner together was much easier than the first. It was less awkward, and Andie was more prepared somehow.

But the singlet top had been a mistake because Max’s eyes kept slipping from her face to her cleavage and it was impossible not to remember the way it had felt for his hands to capture her breasts and hold them, the way he’d delighted in feeling them in his palms.

By the time they’d finished eating, her pulse was running frantically, and she needed to escape.

“I’ll do the dishes,” she said. “Why don’t you go,” she waved her hand in the direction of the hallway.

“Somewhere else?” He prompted, voice droll.

She swallowed. Was she that obvious? She didn’t bother to deny it. “Thanks for dinner. I could get used to this.”

“Well, we have five more months,” he said, eyes sparking with hers. “Let’s see if we can turn you into a food-appreciator, if not a food lover.”

She hastened from the room—hearing the word ‘lover’ from Max’s lips was almost too much to handle.

“Can you fly to Italy Friday?”

Andie, staring into space in the middle of her office, turned at the intrusion, to find Max dressed in suit pants and a button up shirt, looking sexy, handsome, delicious and sinful, all at once.

“Huh?”

“Italy. Friday.”

She frowned. “Oh. I guess. Why?”

“I’ve made an appointment with my head of HR. You wanted to talk about employment opportunities?” He shut the door behind himself, coming closer to her. “For any redundancies?”

“Right.” She nodded once. “Sure.”

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