Royal Baby

by Layla Valentine

  She slid underneath the sheets, shifting away from the Greek. Having sex with him again was the very last thing I should have done. She glanced at Ari again, and wanted to scream at herself.

  At some point during the night, she had had a dream: in it, Ari had confessed to her that he had been absolutely infatuated with her from first sight, and that his scheme of pretending that she was his wife had been nothing more than an excuse to convince her to spend time with him.

  Eva covered her face with her hands and sighed. I like him. I more than like him. And it’s not just that he’s the best lay I’ve ever had, either.

  She shook her head and carefully slid out from between the sheets, needing to get away from the Greek and all of the complicated emotions that just the sight, the presence of him, evoked. Get a hold of yourself. You’re in this to keep from getting sued—once it’s over you and Ari Christodoulou will part ways and you’ll never hear from him again.

  As Eva gathered up her clothes and began to get dressed, she couldn’t help but feel sad at the advice she’d given herself. The dream lingered in her mind, even as she found her purse and quietly left the room.

  Chapter Ten

  The Hyde Park dining room at The London had been completely transformed; as Eva stepped into the room at Ari’s side, she took in the bunting and banners, the decorative touches that the staff had implemented in the name of one of their most appreciative and loyal clients.

  Eva still wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about the details of their pending dinner with the royal family; Ari had reserved the entire building—in spite of the fact that they were only using the one room. For the next three hours, The London would be empty of everyone but the staff, Ari, herself, and their guests.

  She glanced at Ari, taking a deep breath as they approached the table where the members of Al-Akanish Shipping had already settled. She was in a dress so expensive that even during the fattest days of her previous life as a con artist, she wouldn’t have been able to afford it. Ari had had his personal assistant buy her matching shoes and coordinating jewelry as well—including the engagement and wedding ring that she would need so as to pretend to be his wife.

  She felt the familiar frisson of nervousness that always came to her in the moment before she made a pitch, or got into the moment of a new scam; there was the lurch in her stomach, the certainty that when it came down to it, she would forget every single detail that she was supposed to remember. Her hand tightened on Ari’s and he glanced at her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Eva said, nodding ever so slightly. She knew that she looked as beautiful as anything short of surgery could make her; she had spent hours in a salon earlier in the day, being primped and primed, made up and styled. She looked flawless—as anyone would expect a wife of a billionaire to be.

  Eva looked at their assembled guests and carefully apprised them one by one: they were mostly men, with two women at the table as well, and Eva wondered if the women were siblings or wives.

  She had suggested to Ari that it might be a good idea for her to research their guests in more detail, to have some conversational gambits to turn to, but Ari had pointed out that it would be in keeping with her status as his wife to know only a few things about his clients—he had always kept his personal and professional lives separate.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” Ari said as they came to the table. He inclined his head towards each of the representatives, drawing Eva closer. “You know who I am already, but I would love to introduce you all to my wife, Eva.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Eva said, nodding at each of the members of the royal family. Ari pulled her seat out and Eva carefully sat herself down, mentally performing a last-minute skim through the information she had assembled over the course of the week.

  “How did the two of you meet?”

  Eva glanced at Ari, fighting back the urge to grin at him.

  Taking turns, they told the story they had concocted. They were still talking when the servers came to the table to take everyone’s orders, and Eva was glad for the interruption—it lessened the chance that anyone would think too hard about the story of their meeting.

  The dinner moved forward, and Eva’s initial nerves faded as she spoke more and more, exchanging small talk with different members of the party at their table even as Ari discussed weightier business matters. She found herself remembering details that she would never have imagined possible—things that she had learned in random, idle conversation at the bar they’d gone to, during their first tryst together, and in the relaxed moments between quizzing each other.

  “Your life seems like it would be very interesting,” one of the guests at the table remarked. “The wife of a billionaire.”

  Eva grinned at the man, reaching out and touching Ari’s hand in a show of affection that wasn’t difficult to perform. She had struggled with the conflict of her feelings towards the Greek ever since she had first recognized them. She had given herself permission to indulge at least her craving for contact with the man, if only in public.

  “Does your wife find it interesting?” Eva asked. “Whenever I can pry Ari away from his work, we have good times together.”

  “What do you like to do together?”

  Eva cast her mind back to the things Ari had said that he liked to do.

  “Well, of course, no two people have exactly the same interests,” Eva explained. “But we like to go to concerts together, and of course, Ari has his boat. Whenever the weather is nice enough, we love to go out on that.”

  She fielded questions at random, talking about Ari’s siblings, about his education. Next to her, she heard Ari answering a few queries about her life, about their life together. As the dinner progressed, Eva felt more and more comfortable in her pretend role, relaxing enough to eat the delicious food The London’s team of chefs had prepared for them. She kept away from business-related questions that were occasionally tossed in her direction, graciously pointing out that she was Ari’s wife—not his business partner.

  “I understand that the two of you are living in this hotel right now,” one of the guests remarked, and Eva nodded. “For a couple interested in starting a family a hotel seems perhaps…less than ideal.”

  “We’re currently looking for a suitable home here in the city,” Eva replied. She gave Ari’s hand a squeeze, signaling him to jump into the conversation.

  “Yes,” Ari said, nodding slightly. “In fact, just last week we were looking at a few places—of course, it takes some time. We’re both people of exacting standards; Eva expects nothing less than exactly what she wants and needs, and I live to make her happy.”

  By the time dessert—sticky toffee pudding and burnt cinnamon ice cream—arrived at the table, Eva was certain that they had managed to play their “marriage” off convincingly. Ari was in his element, looking as strikingly handsome as always, speaking confidently about future plans that the partnership with Al Akanish would make possible. Eva smiled as much as she could, making small talk, finding out more about their guests in the capacity that she had been given.

  It actually wouldn’t be that bad to be Ari’s wife, when it comes down to it, she thought at one point, making sure that her ruminations didn’t show on her face. He’s a busy man, but he takes time for what’s important. That’s something I haven’t been able to find in anyone else—and none of them have been billionaires with international businesses under their control.

  The dinner proper came to an end, and Eva excused herself from the table, telling their guests that she wanted to check on a few details with the staff. She ducked into the corridor outside of the dining room and a moment later, Ari appeared.

  “We did it,” he murmured, smiling down at her.

  “I think we did,” Eva agreed, nodding. She felt utterly gorgeous in her dress, and the thrill of having pulled off the scam made her whole body tingle.

  Before Eva could say anything else, Ari closed the distance betwe
en them, claiming her lips with his own. Eva melted against his body, giving into the temptation that had been bubbling inside of her all night—for days, in fact. Ari had been right that there was more than a little physical chemistry between them, and the trysts they had shared had made it easier for Eva to fall into her pretend-husband’s rhythm and flow, to look easily, readily affectionate towards him at the dinner table.

  It had tormented her for days, but for the moment, Eva was more than happy to give herself free rein to enjoy the moment, to return Ari’s kiss, and to moan softly against his lips as she felt his hands caressing and touching her through the fabric of her obscenely expensive dress.

  “You were absolutely amazing,” he told her when he finally broke away from the kiss. “You couldn’t have done better if you had actually been my wife.”

  Eva giggled, covering her mouth with her hand so that the sound wouldn’t travel. She was sure that out in the corridor, they were well out of earshot of their guests, but she didn’t want to take a chance of alerting anyone who might be on the way to the bathroom that something else was happening.

  “I nearly believed you were my husband,” Eva said, gently pressing her forehead against Ari’s in an affectionate bunt. “Now—are you taking care of my part of the deal?”

  “I’ve got it all under control,” Ari told her confidently. He grinned, shaking his head. “I still can’t believe we pulled it off. They actually believe that we’re husband and wife.”

  “The apartment, though—you’ve got it taken care of?” Eva’s hot, sweet arousal was not quite strong enough to make sure that she got the part of the deal promised to her; the realtor’s lawyer hadn’t called in the days since she’d told Ari about the follow-up, but that didn’t necessarily mean that it was a done deal. Ari could still back out, having taken what he wanted from her.

  “The apartment is going to be taken care of,” Ari said with a nod. “I would have taken care of it anyway, because I wanted that apartment bad.” He grinned and Eva rolled her eyes, overjoyed with the success of their scheme. “But I want you to know that I appreciate what you’ve done. I wouldn’t leave you hanging on something like that. You’ve done such a good job, little wife.”

  Eva snorted. “That is a really terrible pet name for me,” she told him. “It’s a good thing we aren’t actually married—I’d have to waste so many hours schooling you on how to address me.”

  “Now that you mention that—I was wondering: would you be willing to do this again?”

  Eva raised an eyebrow.

  “Just how many businesses have you been trying to work with who don’t want to have anything to do with you unless you have a wife?”

  “It would be for events of a few different kinds,” he told her, ignoring her sarcastic question. “But there are lots of occasions I can think of where having a wife at my side would make a good impression. I’d be willing to pay you a retainer fee, since my hand is played out on the current thing.”

  Eva smiled at him, but her heart sank at his words. She hadn’t quite come to terms with the fact that she had feelings for the man—but she had recognized that it was true. The thought of pretending to be his lover when it was convenient for him to have a spouse at his side almost turned her stomach. Eva shook her head.

  “I can’t do that,” she said, sighing. “I can’t—I don’t want to pretend to be your wife at your convenience.”

  “I told you: I’ll pay you well. You won’t want for anything in the world.”

  Eva shook her head again.

  “I could win the lottery tomorrow and never want for anything in the world,” she pointed out. “I’m not exactly interested in becoming an escort.”

  Ari scowled down at her. “You wouldn’t be an escort—you’d be my companion. Paid discreetly, of course. And you’d be making connections, getting to know people, becoming someone who doesn’t have to choose between customer service jobs and a life of crime.”

  Eva stared at him in shock, wondering if she was even understanding him correctly.

  “Is it the fact that this went off without a hitch that’s made you so anxious to have a fake wife?” Eva crossed her arms over her chest, feeling vulnerable under Ari’s gaze. “Or am I that good a lay on top of it?”

  “Both of those things,” Ari said with a shrug. “And then some. But mostly it really is that I need a woman to present as my partner. I need to know that the woman I choose is able to hold up to the ideas that I have.”

  “You took my ideas,” Eva countered.

  “We took each other’s,” Ari corrected.

  Eva had to concede that that was right about that. Her throat felt dry. She was still reeling from Ari’s matter-of-fact assessment of why he wanted her to continue to play the part of his wife.

  “What do you say?” Ari raised a dark, well-groomed eyebrow. “From a practical standpoint, it makes sense for you—you don’t have to worry about making ends meet, and you get all the nice dresses you could want.”

  Eva’s stomach turned over inside of her and she shook her head.

  “No,” she said finally. “I can’t do it.” Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt her eyes tingling, stinging with tears that she tried to swallow down. “I need to tell you something, Ari.”

  “What’s that? If it’s a legal issue, I can make sure it’s taken care of,” he told her, looking concerned.

  Eva shook her head. “It’s not a legal issue, it’s a personal one,” she said. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “I have feelings for you, Ari.”

  She shook her head, laughing bitterly. “I never in a million years expected to, but I have feelings for you, and I can’t—I won’t—pretend that we’re a happy married couple whenever people are looking at us, and like we’re just business partners whenever we’re not. I can’t…” She swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment. “I can’t have sex with you and pretend to be in love with you, and then just…act like there’s nothing between us but business.” Eva met Ari’s gaze for a moment. “I either want to be with you for real, or not at all,” she said.

  Ari opened his mouth to reply, but in the next instant, Eva heard the sound of footsteps moving away from the corridor where they stood. Her eyes widened and she turned to look in the direction that she’d heard the steps; Ari looked at the same time.

  “Oh—oh God. You don’t think they overheard us?”

  Ari’s lips pressed into a thin line.

  “Only one way to find out,” he said quietly.

  Eva followed in Ari’s wake as he hurried back into the dining room. In a matter of seconds, Eva knew that whomever it was who had eavesdropped on them, they’d definitely spread the word about what they’d heard. The members of the board were talking angrily among themselves, rising from the table with faces that proclaimed their disgust with what they had just been told.

  “Lies! Falsehoods!” The man Ari had spent the most time addressing throughout dinner—the leader of the delegation and the eldest son, Mahmood Al Akanish—shook his head and glared at Ari. “You want to form a business arrangement with us based on false premises,” he said. “We will not be taking part in any deal founded on lies.”

  Eva’s heart pounded in her chest; she felt the same way she had when the FBI had arrived on the scene during the con job that went bad, the one that had put Jared in prison for years to come.

  Ari maintained a stoic exterior, and Eva struggled to come up with something to say to the representatives.

  “I believe there has been a misunderstanding,” Ari said calmly.

  “There is no misunderstanding,” one of the other board members said. “We are leaving tomorrow, and we will not be part of this deal.”

  All at once, all of the royal family members turned their backs on the two of them and left the room.

  Ari watched them walk out of the dining room and Eva watched him, forgetting her own sadness at the businesslike way in which he had acted when proposing that they continue thei
r sham marriage. His face was impassive, but in Ari’s dark eyes, Eva could see that he was heartbroken; it was one of the few moments when she had been able to truly see the way that the billionaire felt, and it shook her.

  He turned to face her, and Eva took a deep breath, trying to think of something to say.

  “I should go,” Eva said. “I—the trains are going to be a mess so late at night, and I don’t have money for a cab.” She met Ari’s gaze, and once more saw the deep, haunting pain in his eyes. “I need to go,” she said again, feeling unreal and not quite capable of moving. Another quick, deep breath allowed her feet to move and Eva turned away from Ari, walking as quickly as she could before he could think to say anything.

  She knew that they had built something between them—something that she wasn’t willing to trade in for a sham marriage that would conveniently allow Ari Christodoulou to rehabilitate his reputation. But whatever it was that they had managed to do together, whatever feelings Ari might have actually begun to entertain for her, Eva knew that the moment of his crushing defeat had killed it all. She would never hear from him again; that much she was certain of.

  Eva nearly got lost in the path to the building’s exit, and in spite of telling Ari that she didn’t have the money for a cab, she let the doorman put her in one of the clean, yellow cars. What does it matter, anyway? It’s not like I’m going to be any broker than I would have been otherwise.

  She spent the entire ride home in a state of shock, too numb to cry, too appalled to laugh at the terrible twist that her scheme with Ari had taken. It had all fallen apart in a matter of moments, and after they had pulled it off. Eva shook her head, thinking to herself that she was never—ever—going to try conning anyone again. She had gotten her two warnings; the next time, it wouldn’t be someone else who tragically lost out—it would be her.

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time Eva walked through the front door of her apartment, some of her shock had worn off, even if she still had no clue about what to do. She closed and locked the door behind her and began stripping off the finery that Ari had bought her, gathering it up carefully as she walked to her bedroom. She stood under the shower for what felt like a long time, washing off the makeup, the hair products, everything that had formed her costume as Ari Christodoulou’s privileged wife, and crawled into bed.