by Katie Reus
“Definitely just looking to rent right now,” she said, laughing.
“So…what does the ring look like?”
“Oh my God, you can’t be serious?”
“I’m totally serious. Also, did he actually ask you with fireworks?”
She glanced down at her ring finger—while telling herself to take the damn thing off—and admired it. It was hard not to stare. The single princess-cut diamond was flawless and had to be at least three carats. “It’s gorgeous.” Not that she would expect anything less from a man like Andre Makarov. “And yes, yes he did. Sneaky man.”
“It’s pretty romantic,” Nika said.
“It’s…” She wasn’t going to get into a whole thing with her sister about how it wasn’t romantic, it was just a calculated decision on his part. Or at least she was pretty sure it was. He was a powerful businessman used to getting what he wanted. “Did you enjoy the alone time with your man tonight?” she asked, deciding to change topics.
“I know you’re trying to distract me, and yes we did.”
“So what’s this meeting about that you have tomorrow? Or can you not tell me?”
“I don’t actually know at this point.”
Alena was starting to respond when she heard the faint sound of footsteps. “I think I hear Andre, so I’m going to get off the phone. But I’ll text you tomorrow with my plans. I’ll probably be at your place by tomorrow afternoon.”
“Sounds good. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She glanced at the entryway as Andre stepped inside, looking good enough to eat.
He’d shed his jacket but was still wearing the same Armani slacks and button-down shirt. The luxury clothing didn’t take away from his edge, from the toned, powerful body she knew was under all the clothing. “Is your sister worried I kidnapped you?”
She wasn’t surprised that he realized she’d been talking to her sister. “No.” She started to tell him that Nika wasn’t even surprised she was here but held back. “I should be mad at you.” Why wasn’t she mad at him, dammit?
As he strode toward her, he reminded her of a sleek tiger. He sat on the other end of the chesterfield, all strength and sexiness. She wanted to lean over and nibble on his bottom lip.
“I’m surprised you’re not,” he murmured.
“Like I said in your car, I think I’m just too pregnant and too tired to be angry at anything.”
“So, if I said we should get married in Vegas tomorrow—”
“Not that tired or pregnant. Seriously, Andre…” She looked down at the ring, shook her head. “It is gorgeous. And you know you’ve just given my agent a heart attack. I still need to call her.”
He shrugged, not looking the least bit apologetic. “How are you feeling? Any nausea?”
She knew he was just trying to change the subject and that was fine for now. “No. I’m pretty good. Supposedly more into the second trimester the nausea is supposed to abate, but we will see.” She stretched out slightly on the couch. “I could fall asleep on this thing.”
Laughing, he took one of her feet in his big hands—then froze. He’d seemed to do it without thinking, clearly. “I was…” He let her foot go.
That one little touch practically set her nerves on fire. Which was ridiculous. One touch shouldn’t have that effect on her. But it did. Because she remembered how talented he was with those hands.
He abruptly stood. “I have a guest room ready for you if you’re tired. And some of the clothes you left before… They’re still here. Though I don’t know if they’ll fit.”
“I’m sure whatever is here is fine.” Feeling awkward, she stood. As she did, a wave of nausea swept through her. Oh no. Without saying a word to him, she ran from the room, her bare feet slapping against the marble and then wood floor. So much for feeling fine. When she reached the nearest hallway she remembered the layout of his house just fine.
Throwing the guest bathroom door open, she plunged inside just in time to empty the contents of her stomach in the toilet. As she finished, a big hand landed in the middle of her back, making her jump and then cringe in embarrassment.
Of course he’d followed her. Shutting the lid, she flushed and started to stand, but he gently took one of her elbows and helped her. Without looking at him, she rinsed out her mouth and splashed water on her face, which helped her feel more normal.
Finally she met his gaze in the mirror. He was frowning at her. “If you feel embarrassed, stop right now.” Then he opened a drawer and pulled out a small travel toothbrush and toothpaste kit. Moving quickly, he opened the package and handed them to her. As she brushed her teeth, he continued. “I’m sorry you’re getting sick. I wish there was something I could do. Do you think I should call Dr. Freeman?”
The concern she saw on his expression in the mirror made her start crying. Because right now couldn’t get any more awkward, she thought wryly. She spit out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth before wiping away her tears.
“That’s it, I’m calling the doctor.”
Shaking her head, she let out a weak laugh as her tears dried up. “No. That’s not necessary. I wasn’t kidding about being emotional. You looked so concerned and I don’t know, I just started crying.”
Reaching out, he cupped her cheek gently, swiping at a stray tear. She wanted to close her eyes, to lean into his touch and the feel of his faintly callused fingers. But only madness lay down that path.
She was just being emotional tonight, that was all. At least that was what she told herself. Clearing her throat, she took a small step back and looked down at her clasped hands. “I think I’m ready to get some rest,” she murmured. Liar, liar.
After a moment he made a sort of grunting sound and indicated that she should follow him. Tomorrow would be a new day. She would be stronger, more rested, and be able to get some distance from him. Some distance from all these feelings that he evoked inside her. Then she had to figure out a way to get over him. Which seemed impossible, considering they were now tied together. But she didn’t want him to be with her for the reason he’d come up with. Obligation, whatever, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to settle for being his obligation.
Chapter 7
Alena woke up feeling more refreshed than she could remember being in months. Which made no sense. She was in Andre’s house, a place that held bad memories. Although it held good memories as well. Super sexy, delicious memories.
At that thought, a rush of heat pooled between her legs. Which wasn’t exactly a surprise. Ever since he’d walked back into her orbit, her libido had flared to life.
Shaking that thought off, she got out of bed and made her way to the luxury bathroom. No nausea, which was good. After a quick shower, she looked inside the walk-in closet and found a handful of clothes from the last time she’d been here. After the insanity of that last night, when she’d attempted to kill Andre’s father, she hadn’t been in her right state of mind. Later she’d realized that she left some of her things behind, but hadn’t even thought to ask Andre for them. They were just clothes. And she’d known he wouldn’t want to talk to or see her.
She was surprised that he’d kept her things. She wasn’t going to overanalyze why he might have either. More likely than not, he’d simply left his Miami estate and forgotten about them. The jeans were too tight but she found a pair of black leggings and a flowing top that had been loose before. Now it pulled across her baby bump snugly, but the ensemble looked cute.
With her hair left down in natural waves and no makeup, she was different than the sexy vixen who’d stayed here before. But this was the real her. Not the made-up woman on billboards and magazine ads. That was just her job. One she appreciated. And she did love fashion. But she didn’t like to be “on” all the time. She wondered what Andre would think of the real her, and simultaneously hated that she even cared. But it was hard not to. Because she did care what he thought. She cared about him. Which was why it had been so hard seeing him, why she felt insane for even being at
his house—and “engaged” to him. She wasn’t sure what the hell she was going to do about that either.
When she stepped out of the bedroom, there was no one waiting. No guards. So different than the last time she’d been there. He’d had extra threats then and his father had still been alive. She’d heard from her sister via Declan that Andre had decreased his security since Yasha’s death. The man had posed a threat to Andre simply by being alive. Because he’d had so many damn enemies. She being one of them. Something she didn’t want to think about right now. That dead man had no right to take up space in her brain.
The marble was cold beneath her feet as she stepped into the foyer. Through the glass panes in the front doors she could make out a couple guards standing out front. She thought of heading to Andre’s office to find him but decided to hit the kitchen first. She might not be allowed to drink regular coffee but she hoped he had decaf.
Glancing around the Mediterranean-style room, she saw that everything was just as she remembered. Braids of garlic and other spices hung from the iron pot rack over the marble-topped center island. And, more importantly than anything, there was a Keurig.
Next to it, little coffee pods were in a nickel-plated carousel—including decaf. She pulled one out as she turned on the coffee machine to heat the water, then found the biggest mug in the cabinet. When it started brewing, she inhaled the rich scent. Other than being nauseous all the time, not being able to have regular coffee was the only thing she hated about her pregnancy so far. Everything else was kind of wonderful, if a little terrifying.
Once it was done brewing, she picked up her mug and sat at the circular mosaic table in the small breakfast nook. The blinds were pulled up, giving her a perfect view of the glistening pool and lanai. When she saw Andre step outside onto the lanai with a tall brunette woman—wearing a tiny bikini—she frowned. They were standing very close to each other, but the woman’s back was to Alena. And the woman looked good, all sleek lines and muscle.
Only half of Andre’s face was visible, but he was smiling as he spoke to the woman, his hands shoved into his pockets, his expression easy and open. Alena squashed the irrational jealousy that bubbled up inside her. He could talk to whoever he wanted. He could do whatever he wanted. This was his house and they weren’t together. Not really. Okay, not at all.
Last night she’d been pretty sure that if she’d attempted to kiss him he wouldn’t have rejected her. But now…she wondered.
Feeling as if she was spying on him, she slid out of her seat, picking her mug up with her. As she did he leaned forward and kissed the woman on her forehead. It was an affectionate gesture, and that jealousy inside her went haywire. Who was this woman at his house—at nine o’clock in the morning? Wearing a skimpy bathing suit, no less. She clearly didn’t work for Andre, so why else could she be here other than for him? Had she stayed in his bed last night? The thought made Alena feel sick.
Turning away, Alena left, making her way upstairs. She so did not need to see any of that. Nope, she was going to get her stuff and leave. She never should have stayed last night anyway. It had been foolish and clearly she wasn’t thinking straight.
After folding all of her clothes neatly on the bed she froze at the sound of a knock on her door. “Come in,” she called out.
Andre stepped inside, a tentative smile on his face. Though he frowned at her folded clothes. “How did you sleep?”
She wanted to ask him about the woman downstairs and how he’d slept, but kept the question to herself. He hadn’t seen her in the kitchen and she wasn’t going to tell him. She didn’t want to come off as jealous. “Wonderful, thank you. I’m probably going to go ahead and get out of here soon. I have some errands to take care of today.”
“I can take you.” He leaned against the doorframe, watching her with an intensity that made her feel vulnerable, completely bare in front of him. Damn him.
“That’s not necessary.” Being around him was wreaking havoc on her already frayed nerves. “But I appreciate the offer,” she added.
He pushed up from the doorframe. “What kind of errands do you have to do?” There was a tone in his voice she wasn’t sure she liked.
“None of your business,” she said, frowning at him. He obviously didn’t tell her everything he did, and she wasn’t going to start telling him. Because they didn’t have a relationship, no matter what he was trying to create between them.
“You’re upset about something.” He took a step into the bedroom.
“No, I’m not.”
“Are you really going to stand there and lie to me?”
“I’m pregnant. I’m allowed to be emotional and irrational anytime I want,” she tossed out. Especially since he’d proposed. But she knew that was just a business thing for him. Even as she said the words she felt crazy. It was impossible to describe the emotions running rampant inside her and deep down she knew she couldn’t blame them all on her pregnancy. She hated seeing him with another woman, yes, but it wasn’t as if he’d been making out with the woman. No, Alena was upset with herself and how she felt being around Andre.
Out of control, vulnerable, guilty, and yes, turned on. That was the most ridiculous thing of all. Maybe not so ridiculous but right now she simply couldn’t deal with being around him.
He paused for a long moment then nodded. “Have you rented a car yet?”
“No, I haven’t gotten that far. Declan offered to let me use one of his company vehicles anyway.”
“Take one of mine. I have half a dozen in Miami. I’ll feel better knowing you’re in a sturdy, safe vehicle.” That protective note was back in his voice.
And she could admit that she liked his protectiveness. Even if it wasn’t actually for her, but their unborn baby instead. There was no reason to argue with him. “Are you sure?”
He made a dismissive sound then nodded at the clothes. “You can just leave them here if you’d like.”
“Most of these don’t fit anyway.” And she didn’t plan on leaving her things here. That would indicate she would be coming back. And she wasn’t sure that she would. She wasn’t sure about anything right now.
He paused again, still watching her with that painful intensity, making her want to squirm. “Are you sure there isn’t something you want to talk about?”
She was seriously tempted to ask him about the woman she’d seen downstairs but held back in case she hated his answer. “No.”
He nodded and picked up her clothes for her. Downstairs, he had one of his men bring around a Land Rover. “Would you have dinner with me again tonight?” he asked as he walked her to the open driver’s side door. He was all politeness and civility. Something she should like. But for some reason, it grated on her nerves.
“I’m not sure what Nika has planned tonight, but I’ll let you know.”
“That sounds a lot like a no.”
“It’s not like we have to prove a point anyway. We made a big splash last night.”
“I’m asking you to have dinner here,” he said quietly.
Oh. She bit her bottom lip, contemplating. “I’ll let you know.”
He nodded once, and to her utmost surprise, leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. When he pulled back there was a predatory gleam in his eyes, the heat there unmistakable.
She had no idea what to say, but in that moment she knew she needed to leave. She mumbled a half-assed thanks for the vehicle and slid behind the wheel. Once she was on the road, she knew she wasn’t going back to Nika’s. Her sister had said she wouldn’t be there today and Alena didn’t want to be alone right now. She had a few friends in Miami, but there was one friend she needed to talk to anyway. Especially after her “engagement” story had already hit the media. It wasn’t as if it was front-page news, nor second or third, but some of her friends would have seen it by now.
Especially Nathaniel. She wasn’t going to tell him the engagement was fake, but she did want to talk to him in person. Especially after the way she’d left the par
ty the other night.
Then…she needed to sit down and talk to Andre. But first she needed to get her emotions in check. She couldn’t have a breakdown in front of him and start crying. No, she needed to figure out what she wanted to say—like asking him about that woman—and then just get it all out there.
Chapter 8
“You’re really engaged now?” Nathaniel asked as he brought her a bottle of water.
On the balcony of his beachfront condo, Alena glanced out at the Atlantic before turning back to him. The salty tinge of the ocean in the air was refreshing and she hadn’t felt nauseous all morning. “It would seem so.” And she was still wearing the ring Andre had given her. It was simply to maintain cover, she told herself. She could almost buy her own lie.
“He’s a very successful man. Also dangerous. Do you know who his father was?”
Alena held back a snort. She might be friends with Nathaniel, but there were some things none of her friends would ever know about her. Not the name she’d been given when she was born, and not what had truly happened to her parents. The little girl she’d been then was dead. She didn’t even think of herself by that name. She was Alena. “Yes. I know who he was. He shouldn’t be judged by that.”
Nathaniel lifted a big shoulder. “Does he treat you well?”
“Yes. Things between us are complicated though.” And that was all she planned to say about that. “How was the rest of the gala Saturday?”
He cleared his throat, giving her a wicked smile. “My night ended well.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh really?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t leave me hanging like that. Who did you hook up with?” Because a smile like that meant only one thing.
“It’s more than a hookup… I’m dating Summer Freeman now. I really like her.”
