The Boss's Fake Fiancée. SUSAN MEIER

or to tell him too much more about herself. That would be a heck of a lot like confiding, a heck of a lot like actually becoming friends, and that was risky to her heart. Not to mention the fact that he might not think highly of a little girl who’d gotten herself sent into foster care and cost her mom a chance to pull herself together and become a good parent.

      Worse, while he had told her the stories about himself and Riccardo, she’d pictured him as a devilish little boy and her heartstrings had tugged. So no more confiding. She had to stay strong.

      “Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black velvet ring box.

      Her gaze leaped to his.

      He smiled as he opened it. “Will you marry me?”

      He said it casually, but her breath froze in wonderment. She remembered her first day of working with him, how he’d knocked her for a loop with his good looks and charm, remembered how much she loved that he was strong and smart. She thought of all the things that she imagined she would think about if he were asking her to marry him for real. Her heart lodged in her throat and her chest got so tight she could barely breathe, but she reminded herself this wasn’t real. And that falling into this kind of emotional land mine was the very thing she had to avoid.

      So she laughed and said, “Sure,” as if her feelings weren’t going in a million directions, and she was able to see the humor in their charade.

      He slid the rock on her third finger, left hand, and instantly her hand sank along with her heart. Not only was it the biggest diamond she’d ever seen, but it was the most beautiful ring ever crafted, and it was all a sham.

      Determined not to fall into any more emotional traps, she glanced up at him with a smile. “Wow. I hope you didn’t pay for this by the ounce.”

      He laughed. “It’s on consignment.”

      The reminder that for him this was temporary, just a means to an end, a way to accomplish a goal for his family and himself, fortified her. Especially since she was being rewarded for her part. If she wanted a new job, money to hire a PI to find her mom and ultimately a new life, there could be no more slipups. She had to make this look real. And she could do it. It wasn’t like she hadn’t faked her way through things before. As a child she’d had to pretend to like potatoes or peas or ham so her new foster mom wouldn’t think her too picky, and plenty of times she’d had to pretend to love certain television shows just to fit in. When she left that life, she’d vowed she’d be herself for the rest of her days and never pretend again, but this was for a good cause. Two good causes. Mitch could keep the focus of this wedding on his brother and she would find her mom.

      Faking to make it work made perfect sense.

      They traveled through a country she couldn’t see for forty minutes, then the limo stopped. When the driver opened the door, she saw the magnificent stone mansion in front of her. Two stories and clearly built centuries ago, the house stood like a sentinel, taking care of its occupants, marking the passage of time with lines and wrinkles pressed into the stone by wind and rain.

      As she stepped out of the limo, she said, “It’s fantastic.”

      The air felt different. Or maybe the knowledge that she was on a different continent had her sensing that the warm air around them was sweeter, earthier.

      “The upstairs contains Nanna and my parents’ residences. Winery is in the basement beside a restaurant. First floor holds business offices, tour information and gift shop.”

      Well, there went all the romance out of that.

      “Oh.”

      “Don’t pout.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to the right. “We have an apartment in the second building down.”

      His voice had dipped low, as if he really was talking to a girlfriend. The place where his hands rested on her shoulders felt like it was on fire. A shower of tingles rained down her spine.

      More nervous than she’d ever imagined she could be, she turned, hoping to get out from under his warm fingers. “And the first building is?”

      “Alonzo and Julia’s home. He runs the winery. It’s only fitting he has a house.” He smiled casually. “I’m just a guest now.”

      Had she heard a little sadness in that? A dollop of emotion?

      She studied his dark, dark eyes. There was no hurt in the black orbs. No rancor. He did not begrudge his brother his success. But there also didn’t seem to be an attachment to this wonderful home—this legacy—that she would give half her heart and most of her soul to be a part of.

      She broke the connection and turned toward the two newer buildings. Her nerves eased a bit. The last thing she wanted was to find herself in the same house with his relatives. This way she had private space.

      Mitch put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the second building. In the muted glow of small lamps to light the path, she could see lush green grass that created comfortable lawns, but little else.

      Vaguely aware that the driver pulled their things from the back of the limo, she allowed Mitch to lead her up the cobblestone path to a front door and into a quiet foyer with a set of stairs to the second floor. He nodded for her to climb them.

      As they walked up the thin stairway, she realized his eyes were about level with her butt. That might have made her nervous, except she remembered the casual way he’d given her the ring and knew she had nothing to worry about. When they reached the second floor, he pulled keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door and gave it a nudge to open it. He granted her entry first, then flipped on a light.