He found himself curious about her even though he should be focusing on the details of their brief, pretend engagement and not ruminating on her life. Her kiss.
“You move in a competitive world.” It was something he understood from the business he managed outside of McNeill Resorts since his bigger income stream came from his work as a hedge fund manager. His every financial move was watched and dissected by his rivals and second-guessed by nervous investors.
“The competition led me to hire a PR firm at my own expense, which is costly, considering a dancer’s salary. But they secured the feature for me in Dance magazine.”
He had no idea what a professional ballerina earned, but the idea that she’d hired a publicity firm suggested a strong investment in her career. Quinn found it intriguing that she would pay for that herself considering her father’s wealth.
That wasn’t all he found intriguing. The spike of attraction he felt for her—a heat that had intensified with that kiss—surprised him. He’d been adamantly opposed to his grandfather’s marriage ultimatum and yet he’d found himself jumping into the fray today to claim Sofia for his own.
Not just for McNeill Resorts. Also so Cameron couldn’t have her.
As soon as he’d seen her today, he’d felt an undeniable sexual interest. No, hunger.
“I realize that my brother created an awkward situation and you have every right to be frustrated.”
“And yet you helped me out of a tricky situation when I was tongue-tied and nervous, so thank you for that.” She settled her hands in her lap and stared out the window at the businesses lining either side of Interstate 17 heading south toward Manhattan. “I have a difficult audition ahead of me and I know I wouldn’t have been able to focus on it if the debacle in the airport was the topic on everyone’s lips.” She gave him a half smile. “If I didn’t have a fiancé, everyone would badger me about what happened. But since I actually do? I don’t think anyone will quiz me about it. Sadly, my competitors are more interested in my failures than my successes.”
He understood. He just hoped her father would support her wishes regarding their charade.
“Yet tonight’s events leave you a loophole, Sofia, if you want to give a statement that you refused me.” He hadn’t thought about it until now, but just because he’d implied he was asking for her hand didn’t mean she would necessarily accept. “If you change your mind about this, I can have someone work on a statement for the press that expresses my admiration for you, my disappointment in your refusal—”
“Expedient for you, but not for me.” She tipped her head to the window, her expression weary. He noticed the pale purple shadows beneath her eyes. “Just because I issue a statement that says it’s over doesn’t mean there won’t be questions about my love life given the backstabbing in my company this season. An abrupt breakup when everyone wants a story could make the press start digging into how we met. And until I know the truth about where Cameron got my contact information, I’m not comfortable letting the media look too closely at how we connected. I never wanted anything to do with a matchmaker, and I’m concerned that whoever my father hired posted my information in a misleading way. I don’t understand why your brother thought I was Ukrainian. Or why he didn’t know I was a dancer.”
“We could work on a cover story—”
“I am exhausted and my body thinks it’s midnight after the time I spent in Kiev. I have rehearsal tomorrow at ten and what I need is sleep, not a late-night study session to keep a cover story straight.” She folded her arms and squared her shoulders, as if readying herself for an argument.
Did she realize how many complications would arise if they continued this fictional engagement? He’d really thought she would jump at the chance to say she’d turned down his proposal. But then again, he couldn’t deny a surge of desire at the prospect of seeing her again.
“I’m willing to continue with the appearance of an engagement if that’s simpler for you.” He wanted to right the mess Cameron had made. And this time, it wasn’t for Cameron’s sake.
It was for Sofia’s.
“It would be easier for me.” She twisted some of her windblown blond hair behind her ear and he noticed a string of five tiny pearls outlining the curve. “Just for three more weeks. A month, at most, until the rumor mill in my company settles down. I need to get through that important audition.”
She glanced his way for the first time in miles and caught him staring.
“Of course,” he agreed, mentally recalibrating his schedule to accommodate a woman in his life. He would damn well hand off the trip to Kiev to Cameron or Ian since Quinn would need to remain in New York. “In that case, maybe we should draw up a contract outlining the terms of the arrangement.”
With Vitaly Koslov threatening to block his business in Eastern Europe, Quinn needed to handle this as carefully as he would any complicated foreign acquisition.
“Is that wise?” Frowning, she withdrew a tin of mints from her leather satchel and fished a couple out, offering him one. “A paper trail makes it easier for someone to discover our secret.”
He took a mint, his eye drawn to her mouth as her lips parted. He found himself thinking about that kiss again. The way she’d tasted like mint then, too. And how an engagement would lead to more opportunities to touch her. The idea of a fake fiancée didn’t feel like an imposition when he looked at it that way. Far from it.
“Quinn?” Her head tipped sideways as she studied him, making him realize he’d never responded. “If you really think we need the protection of a legally binding contract—”
“Not necessarily.” He should keep this light. Friendly. Functional. “But we’ll want to be sure both of our interests are protected and that we know what we’re getting into.”
“A prenup for a false engagement.” She shook her head. “Only in New York.”
“Your father will want to ensure your reputation emerges unscathed,” he reminded her.
The limo driver hit the brakes suddenly, making them both lurch forward. On instinct, Quinn’s arm went out, restraining her. It was purely protective, until that moment when he became aware of his forearm pinned against her breasts, his hand anchored to her shoulder under the fall of silky hair.
A soft flush stole over her cheeks as he released her and they each settled back against their respective seat cushions. The awkward moment and the unwelcome heat seemed to mock his need to put the terms of this relationship in writing.
“That’s fine,” she agreed quickly, as if she couldn’t end the conversation fast enough. “If you want to draw up something, I will sign it and you can be sure I will not cause a fuss when we end the engagement.”
She wrapped her mohair cape more tightly around her slight figure, the action only reminding him of her graceful curves and the way she’d felt against him.
Damn. His body acted as though it’d been months since he’d been with a woman when...
Now that he thought about it, maybe it had been that long since he’d ended a relationship with Portia, the real-estate developer who’d tried to sell him a Park Avenue penthouse. In the end, Quinn hadn’t been ready to leave the comfort of the Pierre, a hotel he’d called home for almost a decade. He hadn’t been ready for Portia, either, who’d been more interested in being a New York power couple than she had been in him.
Somehow he’d avoided dating since then and that had been...last year. Hell. No wonder the slightest brush of bodies was making him twitchy. Gritting his teeth against the surge of hunger, he told himself to stay on track. Focused. To clean up his brother’s mess and move on.
The sooner they got through the next month, the better.
* * *
Sofia breathed through the attraction the same