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That forced a reluctant grin from him. ‘A tag like that might be very difficult to live down.’
‘Is...is it true? Are you a bed-hopping guy?’ She held her breath for his reply.
‘No. Of course I’ve had girlfriends since my divorce. Serial monogamy, I think they call it. But nothing like what this scurrilous interview with my ex claims.’
Andie let out her breath on a sigh of relief. ‘But do you actually need to pursue this deal if it’s becoming so difficult? You’re already very wealthy.’
Dominic’s mouth set in a grim line. ‘I’m not going to bore you with my personal history. But home life with my aunt was less than ideal. I finished high school and got out. I’d tried to run away before and she’d dragged me back. This time she let me go. I ended up homeless, living in a squat. At seventeen I saw inexplicably awful things a boy that age should never see. I never again want to be without money and have nowhere to live. That’s all I intend to say about that.’ He nodded to her. ‘And I trust you not to repeat it.’
‘Of course,’ she said, rocked by his revelations, aching to know more. Dominic Hunt was a street kid? Not boring. There was so much more about his life than he was saying. She thought again about his scarred knuckles and broken nose. There had been nothing about his past in her online trawling. She hoped he might tell her more. It seemed he was far more complex than he appeared. Which only made him more attractive.
‘My best friend and first business partner, Jake Marlow, is also in with me on this,’ he said. ‘He wants it as much as I do, for his own reasons I’m not at liberty to share.’
‘Okay,’ she said slowly. ‘So we’re working on the party to negate the Scr...uh...the other reputation, to get Mr Burton on board. What do you intend to do about the bed-hopper one?’
‘When Burton contacted me I told him that it was all scuttlebutt and I was engaged to be married.’
She couldn’t help a gasp. ‘You’re engaged?’ She felt suddenly stricken. ‘Engaged to who?’
‘I’m not engaged. I’m not even dating anyone.’
‘Then why...?’ she said.
He groaned. ‘Panic. Fear. Survival. A gut reaction like I used to have back in that squat. When you woke up, terrified, in your cardboard box to find some older guy burrowing through your backpack and you told him you had nothing worth stealing even though there was five dollars folded tiny between your toes in your sock. If that money was stolen, you didn’t eat.’
‘So you lied to Mr Burton?’
‘As I said, a panic reaction. But it gets worse.’ Again he raked his fingers through his hair. ‘Burton said he was flying in to Sydney in two weeks’ time to meet with both me and the other guy. He wants to be introduced to my fiancée.’
Andie paused, stunned at what Dominic had done, appalled that he had lied. ‘What will you do?’
Again he leaned towards her over the table. ‘I want you to be my fiancée, Andie.’
CHAPTER EIGHT (#ulink_03d58885-0eb6-5200-a3d3-29310c5e0818)
DOMINIC WATCHED ANDIE’S reactions flit across her face—shock and indignation followed by disappointment. In him? He braced himself—certain she was going to say no.
‘Are you serious?’ she finally said, her hands flat down on the table in front of her.
‘Very,’ he said, gritting his teeth. He’d been an idiot to get himself into a mess like this. Panic. He shouldn’t have given in to panic in that phone call with Walter Burton. He hadn’t let panic or fear rule him for a long time.
Andie tilted her head to one side and frowned. ‘You want me to marry you? We hardly know each other.’
Marriage? Who was talking about marriage? ‘No. Just to pretend—’ Whatever he said wasn’t going to sound good. ‘Pretend to be my fiancée. Until after the Christmas party.’
Andie shook her head in disbelief. ‘To pretend to be engaged to you? To lie? No! I can’t believe you asked me to...to even think of such a thing. I’m a party planner, not a...a...the type of person who would agree to that.’
She looked at him as though she’d never seen him before. And that maybe she didn’t like what she saw. Dominic swallowed hard—he didn’t like the feeling her expression gave him. She pushed herself up from the chair and walked away from the table, her body rigid with disapproval. He was very aware she wanted to distance herself from him. He didn’t like that either. It had seemed so intimate, drinking coffee and eating breakfast at her table. And he had liked that.
He swivelled in his chair to face her. ‘It was a stupid thing to do, I know that,’ he said. He had spent the entire flight back from Perth regretting his impulsive action. ‘But it’s done.’
She turned around, glared at him. ‘Then I suggest you undo it.’
‘By admitting I lied?’
She shrugged. ‘Tell Mr Burton your fiancée dumped you.’
‘As if that would fly.’
‘You think it’s beyond belief that a woman would ever dump you?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Though it was true. Since it had ended with Melody, he had always been the one to end a relationship. ‘It would seem too...sudden.’
‘Just like the sudden engagement?’
‘It wouldn’t denote...stability.’
‘You’re right about that.’ She crossed her arms in front of her chest—totally unaware that the action pushed up her breasts into an enticing cleavage in the V-necked top she wore. ‘It’s a crazy idea.’
‘I’m not denying that,’ he growled. He didn’t need to have his mistake pointed out to him. ‘But I’m asking you to help me out.’
‘Why me? Find someone else. I’m sure there would be no shortage of candidates.’
‘But it makes sense for my fiancée to be you.’ He could be doggedly persistent when he wanted to be.
He unfolded himself from the too-small chair at the kitchen table. Most chairs were too small for him. He took a step towards her, only for her to take a step back from him. ‘Andie. Please.’
Her hair had fallen across her face and she tossed it back. ‘Why? We’re just client and contractor.’
‘Is that all it is between us?’
‘Of course it is.’ But she wouldn’t meet his gaze and he felt triumphant. So she felt it too. That attraction that had flashed between them from the get-go.
‘When I opened the door to the beautiful woman with the misbehaving skirt—’ that got a grudging smile from her ‘—I thought it could be more than just a business arrangement. But you know now why I don’t date anyone hired by the company.’
‘And Party Queens has a policy of not mixing business with...with pleasure.’ Her voice got huskier on the last words.
He looked her direct in the face, pinning her with his gaze. ‘If it ever happened, it would be pleasure all the way, Andie, I think we both know that.’ She hadn’t quite cleared her face of a wisp of flyaway hair. He reached down and gently smoothed it back behind her ear.
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 you—’
‘I met with Hannah the day after the dinner with your family to talk about her helping me recruit the families for the party. At that meeting—out of interest—I asked her to tell me more about Timothy. She told me about the American treatment. I offered then to pay all the treatment—airfares and accommodation included.’
The colour rushed back into Andie’s cheeks. ‘That...that was extraordinarily generous of you. What did Hannah say?’
‘She refused.’
‘Of course she would. She hardly knows you. A Newman wouldn’t accept charity. Although I might have tried to convince her.’
‘Maybe you could convince her now. If Hannah thought I was going to be part of the family—her brother-in-law, in fact—she could hardly refuse to accept, could she? And isn’t it the sooner the better for Timothy’s treatment?’
