She trembled under his touch. A blush travelled up her throat to stain her cheeks. ‘I’ve never even thought about it, the...the pleasure, I mean,’ she said.
She wouldn’t blush like that if she hadn’t. Or flutter her hands to the leather laces of her neckline. Now who was lying?
She took a deep breath and he tried to keep his gaze from the resulting further exposure of her cleavage. ‘I don’t want to be involved in this mad scheme in any way,’ she said. ‘Except to add your pretend fiancée—when you find one—to the Christmas party guest list.’
‘I’m afraid you’re already involved.’
She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Dominic took the few steps necessary back to his chair and took out his smartphone from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He scrolled through, then handed it to Andie.
She stared at the screen. ‘But this is me. Us.’
The photo she was staring at was of him and her at a restaurant table. They were leaning towards each other, looking into each other’s faces, Andie’s hand on his arm.
‘At the restaurant in Circular Quay, the day of the Friday meeting,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ he said. The business lunch that had felt like a date. In this photo, it looked like a date.
She shook her head, bewildered. ‘Who took it?’
‘Some opportunistic person with a smartphone, I expect. Maybe a trouble-making friend of Tara’s. Who knows?’
She looked back down at the screen, did some scrolling of her own. He waited for her to notice the words that accompanied the image on the gossip site.
Her eyes widened in horror. ‘Did you see this?’ She read out the heading. ‘“Is This the Bed-Hopping Billionaire’s New Conquest?”’ She swore under her breath—the first time he had heard her do so.
‘I’m sorry. Of course I had no idea this was happening. But, in light of it, you can see why it makes sense that my fake fiancée should be you.’
She shook her head. ‘No. It doesn’t make any sense. That was a business lunch. Not the...the romantic rendezvous it appears to be in the picture.’
‘You know that. I know that. But the way they’ve cropped the photo, that’s exactly what it seems. Announce an engagement and suddenly the picture would make a whole lot of sense. Good sense.’
Her green eyes narrowed. ‘This photo doesn’t bother me. It will blow over. We’re both single. Who even cares?’ He’d been stunned to see the expression in his eyes as he’d looked into her face in the photo. It had looked as if he wanted to have her for dessert. Had she noticed? No wonder the gossip site had drawn a conclusion of romantic intrigue.
‘If you’re so indifferent, why not help me out?’ he said. ‘Be my fake fiancée, just until after Christmas.’
‘Christmas is nearly a month away. Twenty-five days, to be precise. For twenty-five days I’d have to pretend to be your fiancée?’
‘So you’re considering it? Because we’ve already been “outed”, so to speak, it wouldn’t come out of the blue. It would be believable.’
‘Huh! We’ve only known each other for two weeks. Who would believe it?’
‘People get married on less acquaintance,’ he said.
‘Not people like me,’ she said.
‘You don’t think anyone would believe you could be smitten by me in that time? I think I’m offended.’
‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘I... I believe many women would be smitten by you. You’re handsome, intelligent—’
‘And personable, yes, you said. Though I bet you don’t think I’m so personable right now.’
She glared at him, though there was a lilt to the corners of her mouth that made it seem like she might want to smile. ‘You could be right about that.’
‘Now to you—gorgeous, sexy, smart Andie Newman.’ Her blush deepened as he sounded each adjective. ‘People would certainly believe I could be instantly smitten with such a woman,’ he said. ‘In fact they’d think I was clever getting a ring on your finger so quickly.’
That flustered her. ‘Th...thank you. I... I’m flattered. But it wouldn’t seem authentic. We’d have to pretend so much. It would be such deception.’
With any other woman, he’d be waiting for her to ask: What’s in it for me? Not Andie. He doubted the thought of a reward for her participation had even entered her head. He would have to entice her with an offer she couldn’t refuse. And save the big gun to sway her from her final refusal.
‘So you’re going to say “yes”?’
She shook her head vehemently. ‘No. I’m not. It wouldn’t be right.’
‘What’s the harm? You’d be helping me out.’
She spun on her heel away from him and he faced her back view, her tensely hunched shoulders, for a long moment before she turned back to confront him. ‘Can’t you see it makes a mockery of...of a man and a woman committing to each other? To spending their lives together in a loving union? That’s what getting engaged is all about. Not sealing a business deal.’
He closed his eyes at the emotion in her voice, the blurring of her words with choking pain. Under his breath he cursed fluently. Because, from any moral point of view, she was absolutely right.
‘Were you engaged to...to Anthony?’ he asked.
Her eyes when she lifted them to him glistened with the sheen of unshed tears. ‘Not officially. But we had our future planned, even the names of our kids chosen. That’s why I know promising to marry someone isn’t something you do lightly. And not...not for a scam. Do you understand?’
Of course he did. He’d once been idealistic about love and marriage and sharing his life with that one special woman. But he couldn’t admit it. Or that he’d become cynical that that kind of love would ever exist for him. Too much rode on this deal. Including his integrity.
‘But this isn’t really getting engaged,’ he said. ‘It’s just...a limited agreement.’
Slowly she shook her head. ‘I can’t help you,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
Dominic braced himself. He’d had to be ruthless at times to get where he’d got. To overcome the disadvantages of his youth. To win.
‘What if by agreeing to be my fake fiancée you were helping someone else?’ he said.
She frowned. ‘Like who? Helping Walter Burton to make even more billions? I honestly can’t say I like the sound of that guy, linking business to people’s private lives. He sounds like a hypocrite, for one thing—you know, rich men and eyes of needles and all that. I’m not lying for him.’
‘Not Walter Burton. I mean your nephew Timothy.’ The little boy was his big gun.
‘What do you mean, Timothy?’
Dominic fired his shot. ‘Agree to be my fake fiancée and I will pay for all of Timothy’s medical treatment—both immediate and ongoing. No limits. Hannah tells me there’s a clinic in the United States that’s at the forefront of research into treatment for his condition.’
Andie stared at him. ‘You’ve spoken to Hannah? You’ve told Hannah about this? That you’ll pay for Timothy if I agree to—’
He put up his hand. ‘Not true.’
‘But