by Malone, Nana
“You don't need to know why.”
"Fine. How much of a problem is he going to be?"
"A big one. He only has one vote out of ten to vote me on, but he has sway. And stay away from him unless I’m with you." There was something about the way the muscle in his jaw worked that told her he was deadly serious.
Way to add more pressure. “Understood.” She tapped the folder. “I know this folder backward and forward. How well do you know it?”
“I’ve been planning this for a long time. I know every detail of that folder.”
She raised a brow. "How long have we been dating?"
Xander answered smoothly "Nine months."
"I’m starting you off easy, hot shot. How did we meet?"
He gave her one of his patented half smiles. "I went to meet a friend, who was a no-show. You were there instead."
She flushed, but deliberately held his gaze. "Not bad. Do you see this relationship as long term?"
Xander's gaze never left her face, but she saw the shadow cross over his expression ever so briefly. "Yes."
She wrinkled her nose. “You’re going to have to do something to sell it, Xander. Otherwise you’re wasting your time taking me with you. You need to make me believe." She cleared her throat. This was what she did best. Sliding her hand into Xander’s, she focused on him and smiled. "We're in love. I can’t remember my life before you walked into it with your over-confident attitude. But underneath that is a vulnerable man I can love, talk to."
Xander's lips parted and he looked like he wanted to say something, but she paused him with fingertips against his lips. "I can’t imagine going a day without your touch." Against her fingertips, she could feel the slight suction as he inhaled sharply.
Xander coughed and removed her fingers from his lips. "Well, fuck. You are an actress. You’ll make this easy." His silvery gaze drifted to her lips. "You’re very good."
“Thank you. I think about it more like telling the truth of the character rather than I’m making it up as I go along. It helps.”
“You can almost make me believe, and that is a feat.” He rubbed the tip of his nose with his knuckle. “There is one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ll be photographed with me. It could show up in a tabloid or two.”
“Excuse me?” No one said anything about this being public fodder for tabloids.
"Easy now, love. I can’t control them. I’m in the public eye because of my family and let’s face it, I’ve cultivated something of a reputation. They’ll be curious about you, so you might be photographed. I’ll try to keep it to a minimum.”
“How long are they going to be photographing me?”
“Probably while we’re in Paris. Then when we get back, they might try to catch a glimpse of you. But if you just go about your day they’ll see there’s nothing interesting going on. Then a couple of weeks after I get the job, we’ll stage a public breakup. They’ll pretty much vanish after that. Unless of course you start dating your costar right after that.”
Her body went rigid, as if she’d been volunteered for the ice bucket challenge. He doesn’t know how you feel about Ryan or why. Let it go. “That won’t be happening.”
He was more astute than she gave him credit for, though, and he studied her closely. “You don’t like him? And given your posture, you have good cause not to like him.” He cocked his head. “Care to tell me what that is?”
She pinned him with resting bitch face number one. The one that said Back off. “Are we about to start sharing our deepest and darkest? You want to tell me why you hate Alistair McMahon?”
Those perfect lips of his flattened into a thin line. “Fair enough.”
Something tickled her memory banks. “Wait, last year I remember some big splash about some royal cousin or something in trouble for cheating on his girlfriend. Chase something. Was that you? I remember the papers last year. Is that what it's going to be like?"
Xander shook his head. "That was my brother, Alexi. The only reason that was even a problem was because of who he'd been engaged to at the time. It won't be like that, I promise."
"I'm having a hard time believing you. I don’t want my life disrupted over this."
"And it won't be—you have my word. This will all be over in a couple of weeks."
"Somehow you're not inspiring confidence."
“Remember, from the moment we arrive, unless you’re in your bedroom or the loo, assume that everyone is watching and cataloging your every move so we have to be on. Can you do this?”
"I can do anything for a few days. I'm ready for this if you are." She forced a smile she didn't entirely feel. It was only four days. She’d survive.
#
The rest of car ride through Paris, Xander did his best not to fidget. It didn’t help that he could smell Imani's perfume. He honestly couldn't believe she'd agreed to this madness.
After ten years, he was close to finally putting this shit to bed once and for all. Next to him, Imani stared out the window, eyes wide. She might as well have been oohing and ahhing for all her wonder. "I take it you’ve never been to Paris before."
She shook her head. "Fe, my best friend, and I were supposed to go once last term, but I got an audition so we had to cancel, then work and stuff. But it's top of my list. Do you think I’ll get a chance to sneak away for a couple of hours sometime this week? To explore a little."
Why hadn’t it even occurred to him that she would want to see Paris? "Sure. If you want, I can take you around. I'm very familiar with the city. I actually have an apartment I use in the 7th Arrondissement right across from the Eiffel Tower. I would have suggested we stay there, but I think LeClerc and Alistair want to keep an eye on me."
"You don’t have to do that. I know this is a job interview for you and I’m the required arm candy."
He placed his hand over hers and she stilled, her eyes pinning to their fingers. Very deliberately, he wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed lightly. "I'd like to. I never get to show anyone the city. I'm usually working with models who either are in and out, or know the city as well as I do. And let's face it, the cafés would be wasted on them."
Imani chortled. "Good point, because I'm pretty sure I can eat my weight in pain chocolat right about now."
She was hungry. Damn. Only three hours with a girlfriend and he was already failing. "Why didn’t you say you were hungry?"
She shrugged. "I know you’re on a schedule. I figured I could eat once we got settled. Don’t worry, I’m not at hangry levels yet."
Xander frowned. "Hangry?"
Her answering dimpled smile was completely arresting. "So hungry that you’re pretty pissed off about it and might eat someone's arm to slake the hunger."
"That's bloody fantastic. Note to self, keep you well fed."
"We’ll have you slanging like a Yank in no time."
The car pulled into a loose gravel driveway surrounded by seven to eight-foot hedges. They drove for another full minute before the chateau came into view.
Imani's gasp was audible. "This looks like something out of a Dumas novel."
They were met by a butler wearing a tuxedo at the front stairs. "Good afternoon, Monsieur Chase. Mademoiselle. Bienvenue à Chateau Millieux. Gerard will show you to your room and your bags will be brought up shortly." His French was perfectly accented, but when he spoke English, it was apparent he was British.
Xander knew he should be focused on the job at hand, but he kept paying attention to Imani's reactions. Something as simple as the floor fascinated her. Polished white marble lay at their feet. Priceless art hung on the walls leading to the grand staircase.
"I think I should have brought my roller skates," she muttered in a hushed tone.
"You have your own set of skates?"
"I'd better, since I'm a derby girl."
He wasn’t sure what that was, but his mind, ever helpful, conjured up every dirty connotation it could dream up. "Dare I ask w
hat a derby girl is?"
"If I'm to stay your girlfriend, we're going to have to do a crash course in all things American and fun."
Their room was on the top floor of the four-floor chateau on the south side, so the lighting was beautiful. The furnishings opulent. A beautiful four-poster bed dominated the space despite the grand size of the room.
Imani's gaze flickered to his. One bed.
Another reason why he would have preferred his own place in the city and commuted out. "Don’t worry. I'll take the couch."
Imani narrowed her gaze on the settee. "No dice. You’re a lot bigger than I am. Take the bed."
There was no way. He might be a prat, but he was gentleman enough to give it to her. "Not going to happen. But if you like, we can share."
Her gaze flickered to the bed, then back at him. "Not gonna happen."
"Then it's settled, you will take the bed."
His gaze focused in on her full lips as her tongue peeked out to moisturize them. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Could I stop you from asking?" The last thing he needed was her attempting to probe into his personal life…again.
"Probably not, but I suppose you could not answer."
He dragged off his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "Then go ahead."
"Why didn’t you bring a real girl to this interview?"
Because he would have wanted to keep someone he cared about as far away from this shit as possible. Alistair was toxic. And he had to be just as ugly to do what he needed to do. But he couldn’t say that. "It's simpler, easier, more detached. Bring a woman to Paris and all of a sudden she starts to get ideas."
She scoffed and fingered the gossamer window hangings. "You’re a real romantic, aren’t you?"
He grinned.
She rolled her eyes. "I think we're due downstairs."
Eleven
Of all the ideas she’d ever had in her life, this was probably not one of Imani's best ones. She was playing a part. She just had to remember that. None of this was real. Smoke and mirrors. Then why was she letting him touch her? Because you're pretending to be his girlfriend, idiot. Touching is part of the deal.
She really had to start thinking through her plans better. It had seemed like such a good idea to slip her hand into his before coming down for cocktails. A fantastic idea, really. It was innocuous enough but was something real couples did. Or so she remembered from her old life when she had relationships. But then as soon as the doors had opened, there had been people in the hallway.
Xander had probably taken his cue from her, but the kiss he'd planted on her shoulder didn't feel like an act. It felt…real. At least the shivers it gave her were real. The stubble on his cheek had tickled her skin as his lips had slowly glided over her. Xander Chase was walking sin. And he very well knew it. It was in the confidence of the way he walked. The tilt in his head as he talked to women. He was aware of how good-looking he was and used it to full advantage.
As he introduced her around, he was mildly flirtatious, but never overboard, always deferring to her like a boyfriend would. Always keeping her within two feet of touching distance. As they traversed the white marble from the foyer he gently guided her with a hand on her lower back. But every single touch, caress, and glide brought the lick of heat with it. It was making her half mad with lust. When she slanted him a glance, he blinked at her innocently.
Damn him, he knew he was driving her crazy. And this was why she hadn't wanted to do this. Because of this feeling. Every time he touched her, she was transported right back to that flat in Notting Hill. Where a total stranger had touched her and for once made her feel something.
It didn’t help things that he was smart. He floated easily from conversations about politics, to art, to current events. And of course he spoke flawless French, along with Italian and what sounded like some German. He was officially a Venus Flytrap. Everything about him was meant to entice, to entwine, to ensnare.
After an hour or so of mingling, Imani started chatting with a girl who worked in the marketing department. It took Xander less than twenty seconds to come looking for her. He stalked toward her like a man who knew what he wanted. Like she was his target. His prey. “Sorry to interrupt, beautiful.” This time, he kissed her on the neck, lingering long enough to nuzzle. Imani’s head spun and she flushed.
The poor girl she’d been talking to shifted on her feet and tried to look anywhere but at them. “I thought this weekend wasn't about sex,” Imani muttered, keeping her voice low.
“I’m pretty sure I told you I’d still have a go, right?”
“Not going to happen.”
“If you say so.” His voice was low when he spoke. "Sorry to interrupt, darling. But there's someone I want you to meet. He’s the man who made all of this possible."
Ah, code words. She needed to go play nice with the douchebag who was blocking him from his job. Excusing herself from the conversation with her new friend, she let Xander lead her away.
All it took was one look and Imani hated Alistair McMahon on sight. It could have been his pale, gaunt looks, or what little she already knew about him. Or maybe it was the mask of disdain he wore when he saw Xander. He looked every bit the picture of refinement, but his eyes were cold and his thin lips looked as if he never smiled. All in all, a miserable-looking man, despite his fancy suit and overall polish.
"You must be the young lady that's captured Xander's attention. I can see why he's taken with you."
Imani plastered her smile on. "Thank you for having me. It's a treat to come to Paris."
Alistair’s shrewd gaze narrowed. "Why Xander, I would have thought you'd taken her to your pied a terre by now."
Imani squeezed Xander's hand to stop him from answering. She wasn’t a fan of this Alistair douchebag. "Well, we were just talking about how we might have stayed at his flat instead, but we thought the chateau suited better. As least for a few days, then we'll switch venues, explore the city."
Alistair narrowed his gaze imperceptibly at her. "So, almost little brother, where have you been storing this American…gem?" Somehow the man made the word “gem” sound remarkably like “rodent.”
Little brother? Wait, what the fuck? She frowned and Alistair tsked. "Xander didn't you tell her that we were practically family? If I were you, my darling, I'd wonder about what else he wasn’t telling you."
Xander tugged her in close to his side and kissed her on the temple. "It was unimportant, so why bring it up?" Turning to her, he said, "Alistair’s father almost married my mother when I was a child."
Maybe that was the reason for the too-thick tension. "What a small world. And now you two are going to be working together."
Alistair’s gaze turned frostier. "Time will tell."
Xander clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax, Alistair. This is all supposed to be a fun weekend, remember? I'm having fun. Aren’t you?"
When Alistair slunk away, Imani turned her gaze to him. "Is that all part of the stuff I'm not supposed to worry about?"
"Don’t worry about him. He’s inconsequential. But this guy is not." He inclined his head toward the approaching behemoth of a man. "Jean. It's a pleasure to see you again. May I introduce to you to my girlfriend, Imani Brooks."
The larger man took Imani’s proffered hand and completely engulfed it in his. She could only pray she’d get it back one day. "Enchanté. I heard we were finally going to meet the beautiful woman we've been hearing so much about."
She'd add that one to the pile of questions she needed Xander to answer. "Enchanté de te rencontrer. This is a great party and the grounds are beautiful. Thank you for including me in the fun."
"Of course my dear. My mother is British, but my father was French. This chateau has been in our family for centuries.” His smile broadened. “You know, until last week, I was unaware that Xander had such a serious relationship." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "I’m sure you’re aware of his former reputation."
Imani locked
her smile into place. "I’ve always believed love can change a person."
Xander trailed a hand down the small of her back, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. "Everything changed for me after I met Imani."
She met his silvery gaze and there was a hint of sincerity in them she couldn’t deny. No. He's acting. Don’t believe the hype.
LeClerc smiled down at them from his towering height. "Sometimes love happens like that. It's enough to change you as a man."
"Tell me about it,” Xander said. "My whole outlook on life has changed since meeting this creature."
"You know, my Charlotte did that for me twenty years ago. How did the two of you meet?"
Imani gave the story that they'd discussed. She embellished with sweeping emotions, but it worked great. LeClerc's wife, Charlotte, sidled up to them with a broad grin. "You two are a beautiful couple. I'm so glad Xander has learned how to keep his personal life out of the papers for once. There was a time that you couldn’t open an OK Magazine without seeing his face and some emaciated model."
Xander took a sip of his champagne. "I'm a changed man."
Charlotte nodded. "I can see that." The older woman slid a sly glance up at her husband. Then back at the pair of them. "Now that I've met Imani, I can see what Alistair means."
Xander cocked his head. "Oh? What is it Alistair had to say?"
Charlotte smiled sheepishly. "Sorry for the gossip. He was just wondering why you haven’t snapped up this gorgeous creature and made her officially yours yet.”
Imani flushed. She had to school her expression and bite back the wince when Xander's grip tightened on her hand. She wasn’t sure if it was out of fear or if he was trying to keep her from running. Great, just what she needed—a pair of matchmakers. Xander had mentioned improv, but this was a little ridiculous. “I guess it’s a matter of timing. Nine months really isn’t that long. And we want to take our time, not rush into anything.” She clasped Xander’s hand and beamed him a smile. “All that will come one day. There’s no rush. When you know, you know.”
