She tilts her chin up. “No, I mean it. We’re under a microscope here. My uncle and the press. Your designer friends. If you think I carethat you have a secret girlfriend or someone you hook up with, I don’t. But I very much care if that becomes public and threatens to sink the illusion we’re going for here.”
Secret girlfriend. It’s almost funny, but it’s a logical assumption on her part, and I won’t abuse her of it. Better she thinks I’m sneaking around with a woman than at a fight club.
“You should sleep at night,” I say. “Not keep track of me.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Don’t even try.”
“Fine. Heard,” I say. “But that goes both ways. You’ll be celibate while you’re married to me, too, darling.”
“Stopcalling me that,” she says, “and yes, no sleeping around for either of us while we’re selling this marriage. It’s too risky. Are you ready to become best friends with your right hand?”
“I’m left-handed,” I say, “and remember that my bedroom is only a few doors down from yours. Don’t moan too loud,will you? You’re mouthy enough as it is. I bet you’re a screamer.”
Her eyes spark. “Don’t you just hate that you’ll never find out.”
“We’re done for tonight.” I get up from the couch and roll my shoulders back. “Just remember not to flinch when I touch you in public.”
“Don’t flinch if I touchyou,” she says. “Although I don’t think that’ll be a problem, given the way you’ve been staring at my legs all night.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not attracted to you.”
“You better not be.” She examines the blood red of her nails. “Because I’m sure as hell not interested in you.”
“Good,” I say. “That would make things awkward.”
“And God forbid they get awkward,”she says. “We’re newly married, complete strangers, and we despise each other. But at least the mood between us isn’tawkward.”
“Funny. You’re a comedian, you know that?”
“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you,” she says. “You give off more… deeply repressed, superficially charming, and secretly psychotic.”
“And burdened with terrible taste in fake wives,” I say.
There’s a headache brewing at my temples. A terrible night is coming. I won’t be able to outrun the nightmare tonight.
“I’m hosting a group of investors and a few members of the Maison Valmont board for dinner here tomorrow night,” I say. “Come down to dinner and test your acting chops.”
Her eyes flash. If there’s one thing I can count on, it’s that she’s ambitious. She doesn’t want this marriage dissolved and she wants her family company to succeed. And I’m learning that she’s not one to back down from a challenge.
I’ve seen hazy video recordings from her days as a college athlete. Her at the tennis baseline, racquet in hand, eyes on the opponent. She was incredible.
“I’ll be there.” Her eyes are locked on mine.
“Be on your best behavior. Do not,” I say, and reach to tap beneath the chin, “make thingsawkward.”
She tilts her head back, eyes glinting. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll leave the inconvenient attraction to you.”
CHAPTER 13
RAFE
The villa is blessedly silent the next day. Amazingly Paige-free. The only sounds are from Antonella and the staff setting up for the evening’s dinner.
I work in the study on the second floor and keep the double doors open to see the lake and the surrounding mountains as I work.
They’re not as high as the Alps on the Swiss side, in the village my father came from. Close to where we still have a chalet. In the village where so many of my family are buried, including Etienne, who was never meant to lie there at only fifteen.
I dreamed of him last night. I knew I would. When I don’t lock things down tight enough, the memories come roaring back.
