Pretending with the Greek Billionaire

by Kira Archer

Constance wouldn’t mind hiding out for a while herself, but Luca was waiting. She went into the bathroom to gather her makeup and toiletries. She took a last look around, making sure she had everything. It wasn’t like she couldn’t come back if she forgot something. In fact, she was hoping to get away to her little refuge as often as she could. Surely she wouldn’t have to spend twenty-four hours a day with Luca. She didn’t think her sanity could stand it.

  Chapter Seven

  Luca stepped into Constance’s bedroom and looked around—bright, neat, and organized. Just like the rest of the house. Just like her. The bed with its colorful quilt was neatly made and while there were several soft pillows neatly arranged, it wasn’t stacked high with decorative nonsense that never got used.

  He pushed on the mattress a few times. A little soft for his tastes but definitely firm enough to support some vigorous recreation. He grinned, envisioning Constance’s lovely face flushing bright red if he were to bring the suggestion up to her. He might just have to do that. Few things were more fun, he was discovering, than pushing Miss McMurty’s numerous buttons.

  A cushy looking chair next to the window sat beside yet another bookcase, a dresser with a mirror, and small end tables on either side of the bed. Everything about her home was comfortable and served a purpose, the complete opposite of his own home. Hell, he had entire rooms in his house he’d never even gone in. Bedrooms that had never been slept in. Knick-knacks he hadn’t picked out. He’d always loved his house, but compared to Constance’s place his house was more like a hotel than an actual home.

  He flopped down on her bed and turned to the bathroom door. She came out and froze when she saw him lying there. Her eyes widened, her luscious mouth pursed with disapproval. He didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. God, she was fun to tease. He lazily rubbed a hand over the spot next to him.

  “Care to join me?”

  Her lips pinched more. “No, thank you,” she said, her voice cold and distant though her eyes roamed over his body and a blush stole across her cheeks.

  “Come on. Why not give it a try and see how you like it?”

  The pink in her face turned bright scarlet and she turned away from him, depositing a toiletry case and some bottles of shampoo and conditioner into a bag near the door. “You really are an ass, you know that?”

  Luca barked out a laugh, surprised once again. “I’ve been told so once or twice.”

  She snorted. “I’m sure it’s been more than once or twice.”

  He laughed again and swung his legs off the bed. She watched him come toward her, her eyes wary but unwavering. She didn’t lack a backbone, that was for sure. Luca found it refreshing. He seemed to be surrounded by people only too willing to say and do whatever it was they thought would please him. She’d give it to him straight every time. He had the irresistible urge to needle her as much as he could just to see how she’d react.

  She didn’t budge an inch, even when he stepped so close to her only a breath of air separated them. Instead, she looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked.

  “I can’t quite figure out why you continue to feel it necessary to invade my personal space. Do you have a hard time hearing or seeing me from a respectable distance? Maybe Joseph needs to make you an appointment for some glasses. Or a hearing aid.”

  He chuckled, the thrill of the chase running through him. He leaned closer until she was forced to take a step back. Right up against the wall. “I like being in your personal space.”

  She tried to frown but the expression didn’t quite make it all the way. “Well, I don’t like it.”

  “Now, that’s not true.” He placed one hand on the wall next to her head and lifted the other to draw a finger down her cheek. “Why do you blush every time I come near you then?”

  “It’s ninety degrees out and you keep insisting on forcing your body heat on me. It’s not desire; it’s heat stroke,” she said, raising her pert little chin in the air.

  His finger trailed down the column of her neck, skimming over the pulse beating furiously beneath her skin. He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering near her ear. “Why is your blood racing?”

  “Because you’re making me angry,” she retorted, with a voice not quite as steady as it had been.

  “Hmm.” His fingers stroked along her collarbone and she shivered. What he wouldn’t love to do to this woman. “I think you’re lying…to me and yourself.”

  “I don’t care what you think.”

  “That’s not true, either.”

  She glared at him. “You don’t know me, Mr. Vasilakis. So you’re really not qualified to make that assumption, are you?”

  He gazed into her eyes and could almost see her slapping her defenses in place. There was a sensual woman under the surface of all that control, begging to be released. He couldn’t wait to see the passion she was capable of when she truly gave in to her own desires.

  He closed his eyes briefly, trying to get a grip on himself. What the hell was he thinking? Yes, he wanted her, but she wasn’t the type he could have fun with and then walk away from. He didn’t know what it was about her, but he had a feeling she’d get under his skin, and that was the last thing he wanted. Too risky, too much to lose.

  He glanced down, his eyes raking over her from her stylishly clad feet in their shiny new sandals, to her shapely legs, the hem of her white cotton sundress just skimming her knees, the dress merely hinting at the delicious body that hid beneath it. But most of all it was the intelligence and compassion radiating from those intense eyes that stared into his own, the strength and beauty that shone from her that she couldn’t hide even if she wanted to. She was different, this woman, from any he’d known before. She was dangerous.

  And still he wanted her.

  He stepped away. He’d have to be content with the few tastes he got playing it up for the cameras. Anything else might lead down a road he had no desire to travel.

  She watched him, her brow creased in confusion. He almost laughed. She wasn’t the only one confused.

  “Do you have all you need?” he asked.

  She frowned, but nodded.

  “Good, let’s go. I’m sure Joe is anxiously waiting for us back home.”

  She nodded again and followed him to the door. Her bags were still sitting there but he gathered them up with a roll of his eyes.

  “Can you get the door?” he asked, laying on the sugar-sweet sarcasm as thickly as possible.

  “Of course.” She grinned at him and opened the door.

  The shouting began the second the door swung open. Constance gasped and jumped back, slamming the door shut again.

  Luca sighed. He’d hoped to be able to ease her into the whole three-ring circus. Or at least run her through orientation. How to be a Stalked Celebrity 101. Oh well. A crash course would have to do.

  “Walk straight to the car, don’t look at them, don’t hesitate, but don’t duck your head. As long as they can get some shots, they might not press in too much. Do you have any sunglasses?”

  She nodded, her face pale. “In my bag,” she said, licking her lips. She fumbled around until she found them.

  “Put them on. They’ll help with the flashes. You ready?”

  She nodded again, a little less sure this time, but ready to charge anyway. Impressive.

  He handed her one of the bags so he’d have an arm free and took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  He opened the door and ushered her out. The shouting came from all directions. People calling his name, asking questions. Who was she? Was it serious? Were those suitcases hers? Where were they going?

  Constance kept her head held high and marched straight to the car, only pausing now and then when one of the men would crowd too close. Luca kept an arm around her, pulling her closer. Once again, he thought how stupid he’d been to head out without Joe. By himself, it might not have been so bad, but with Constance in tow there was a fresh story to be had. A juicy one. And everyone wanted to be the first to get a piece of it.
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  He plastered a smile on his face, tried to look good-naturedly bored, as if all the attention meant nothing to him. It did mean something, but the photographers probably wouldn’t find it very flattering. So he did what he could to appease them. Besides, he and Constance needed to get in the papers; that was the whole point of their arrangement.

  When they got to the car, Luca pulled Constance around for a second so the photographers could get some shots of them standing together.

  “Smile,” he muttered to her.

  She glanced up at him, momentarily surprised, but she rallied quickly enough, letting a shy and overwhelmed smile show, though her face was still white as a sheet.

  “All right, that’s enough for now,” Luca said, opening the door so she could slip inside.

  The vultures moaned and kept shouting questions at him. Luca shoved the luggage in the trunk and headed to the driver’s side.

  “Sorry, guys. My fiancée is exhausted. I need to get her home. Thanks!” he said, sliding into the car amid a fresh wave of exclamations.

  “What was that?” she asked him.

  “What?” He eased out of her driveway, careful not to hit any of them. Not that it would bother him particularly if one of them got a teensy bit injured, but it would make his day more of a pain.

  “I thought you hated them,” she said.

  “I do hate them. They hound me night and day no matter where I go or what I’m doing. The novelty of that kind of attention wore off a long time ago.”

  “Then what were you doing making us stand there and pose for them, and telling them flat out that I was your fiancée?”

  “I thought you understood the whole point of this little charade.”

  “I do, but it seems strange that you’d court their attention when you say you hate it so much.”

  He shrugged. “They can be useful sometimes too. We need to get in the papers, on all the social media sites. Well, we just did. A couple good shots of us together here and from the store, that ring flashing on your hand, your luggage in the trunk of my car, and more shots of us pulling into my estate, and twenty minutes from now the whole world will know we’re engaged. I’m sure the shots from the jewelry store are already being spread around with speculation as to what’s going on. I confirmed it for them.”

  “I hardly think it’ll be that fast.”

  Luca snorted. “Trust me. Face it, Miss McMurty. In less than an hour the whole world is going to know your face.”

  Chapter Eight

  Constance stared at Luca over a romantic candlelit dinner, trying to keep her face from revealing all the emotions seething inside. Anger being up front and center.

  “I don’t know why you’re so upset. You agreed to all this.”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling around her clenched teeth. “I did. Under duress. But you didn’t tell me it would be like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “Seriously?” she hissed, waving a hand toward the window of the restaurant where several dozen photographers had been snapping photos since the moment they’d sat down.

  “You get used to it. Just ignore them.”

  “I don’t see how anyone can get used to this.”

  He shrugged and took a bite of his spanakopita. “It can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes, I’ll give you that, but I’ve found if you give them a good smile or two and then try to ignore them, they’ll go away. Eat.”

  His tongue darted out to lick a flake of pastry off his lip and she froze with her fork halfway to her mouth.

  Those moistened lips smiled and leaned closer to her. “If you want a taste, all you have to do is ask.”

  Before she could register what he’d said, those lips made contact and sent little electric shocks rippling through her. It lasted only a moment and then he sat back down and resumed eating.

  “We’ll continue that later,” he said, his eyes full of heat and promise. “Eat,” he commanded again.

  She rolled her eyes and tried to get a few bites down but it was disconcerting knowing people were watching them, and not just the ones with the cameras outside the windows. People in the restaurant stared as well. A few even snapped some pictures with their phones, not even bothering to try and hide what they were doing. Thank God the girls were home with Mrs. Ballas for the night. People taking pictures of them eating would have freaked them out, and he had to deal with it every time he left his house.

  She sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not making this any easier.”

  Luca put his fork down and sat back, his eyes blinking in utter surprise.

  “What?” she asked. “Am I not being a pain?”

  “Oh no, you’re being a pain all right.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she tried to glare at him without everyone knowing she was glaring at him. Trying to convey what she was thinking and feeling without alerting the rest of the world to it all was exhausting.

  “Yeah, I get it. I signed on to do this and now all I’m doing is complaining, but I really don’t get it. Why are they so interested in me? I’m nobody.” She glanced at Luca, confused but not sure how insulting it would be to ask for enlightenment.

  “What?” he asked.

  She waved him off but he frowned at her. “What? Just ask.”

  “I was wondering why you are so famous. Actors and professional athletes I can kind of understand. But you…well you sort of seem famous just for being famous. Like a Hilton or a Kardashian.”

  “All beautiful ladies who are surprisingly intelligent and genuinely nice people if anyone bothered to get to know them.”

  “Okaaay…but my point stands.” She shrugged. “Never mind. I guess it doesn’t matter. Seems odd to me, is all.”

  “It always seemed odd to me as well.”

  “Really?”

  He took a drink of his wine. “Sure. I know people who have more money, who are better looking…”

  She couldn’t hide her incredulity fast enough at that remark and Luca rewarded her with a smile, the kind that had women throwing themselves at his feet. Great. That’s all she needed to do, feed that already over-inflated ego of his.

  “Anyhow, I know people a lot more worthy of all the attention than me. So how did I get so lucky?”

  “Really?” she asked, not believing a word he was saying. There was no way he was really that clueless.

  “What?” he asked. He seemed genuinely confused.

  “You don’t think all your…escapades have had anything to do with keeping you in the papers? The cars, the houses, a different model on your arm every other week, the crazy parties even I’ve heard of? No offense, but your whole life seems to revolve around getting your name in the papers.”

  He wiped his mouth and set his napkin down on his plate. A little qualm of unease turned her already-rioting stomach. She hadn’t meant to make him angry. He gestured to the waiter who hurried over with their check.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

  He shook his head. “No. You’re right.” He cleared his throat and shoved his fingers through his slightly unruly hair. He was impeccably dressed, as always. Tailored suit fitted to his perfect form so well she couldn’t keep her eyes from roaming over him every few seconds. She’d taken care with her appearance as well, donning a dark blue dress she knew was particularly becoming, and a small blue butterfly necklace that matched her new ring, knowing that the cameras would be there, that people would be watching.

  The sick realization that he had to do that every time he walked out of his house hit her. Who would choose that? To always be under that kind of scrutiny? She worried again for the children. It was bad enough she and Luca were hounded as they were, but they were at least adults who’d chosen the situation. The girls hadn’t. She’d have to make double sure they weren’t ambushed. No wonder Luca never wanted kids. Who’d want to subject their children to such treatment?

  “You’re right,” he said again. “I do make it pretty easy for them. Habit, I guess. But then, they are
there whether I make it easy for them or not. At least when I’m up to my antics, as you call them, I’m in control of the game. They see what I want them to see, most of the time.”

  Constance opened her mouth to respond. She hadn’t thought it was possible but she was afraid she might have hurt his feelings. He didn’t give her a chance to say anything else. He stood and held out his hand. She took it, let him help her rise. A server handed Luca a bag. He’d cleared their plates and boxed up the leftover food and she hadn’t even noticed.

  “Efharistó,” he said, thanking the man and handing him a large tip.

  She stole a glance at Luca, one eyebrow raised.

  “You didn’t eat much. I thought you might be hungry later.”

  “Oh. Thank you,” she said, surprised. It was unexpectedly thoughtful.

  He winked at her and raised her hand to his lips, keeping his gaze locked on hers as he kissed her knuckle above her engagement ring. “It’s my job to take care of you.”

  He sounded like he meant it. Again, she mentally chastised herself. She didn’t know why she kept judging him so harshly. He really had been pretty decent to her, all things considered.

  She gave him the sweetest smile she could muster and didn’t object when he laced his fingers through hers. She’d deny it if ever asked, but she actually quite liked his big, warm hand enveloping hers. To her delight, he ushered her through the back door of the restaurant into a waiting car driven by Joseph. She settled back against the seat in the rear with Luca.

  “Not that I’m complaining, but why didn’t we have to wade through the sea of cameras out there again?”

  Luca sighed. “Even I get tired of the circus occasionally, Stanzia. They’ve gotten enough pictures of us for the night. All I want to do is go home and get in bed.”

  Constance’s stomach dropped to her toes. They were on their way back to his house, to his room, where she was expected to sleep in his bedroom.

  They pulled through the gates of the estate. Only a few lights were on in the house. There was no party going on. No guests. No paparazzi (that she could see). No kids. It was the two them for the whole night, alone.