To her immense frustration, the waitress came to their table to take their order. Having not eaten anything since the slice of toast she’d had for breakfast—after her awful meeting with Damián, food had been the last thing on her mind—Mia realised she was starving. And, for the first time since she’d left home for drama school almost six years ago, she didn’t have to worry about the cost. She could choose anything she liked.
If Damián could blackmail her she might as well take advantage of the perks. This might be her only chance to eat in a three Michelin star restaurant, and she quickly selected the lobster and langoustine ravioli starter and the roasted monkfish for her main course. Considering the only seafood she’d eaten these past six years had been tins of tuna, these felt like decadent choices and she was happy to take the waitress’s advice on the best wine to pair with them.
‘Well?’ she said when their wine had been poured for them and they’d been left alone.
He leaned forward and covered her hand. Unprepared for the gesture, unprepared for the sudden clatter of her heart at his touch, she only just stopped herself from tugging it away.
As if sensing her internal war, he murmured, ‘Remember to keep your features soft and loving. People can’t hear what we’re saying but have no doubt we’re being watched.’
She forced the dreamy smile back on her face. ‘Better?’
He flashed another mesmerising high-voltage smile and nodded.
‘Then please get on with it before the suspense kills me.’
Speaking as casually as if they were discussing the weather, he said, ‘There are documents hidden in Celeste’s villa—important documents—that I need to find as a matter of urgency. Your job is to help me find them.’
‘Celeste? As in your mother?’
He nodded.
She studied him closely. There was no way it was as simple as he’d just made out, not with all the subterfuge and money he was spending. ‘What kind of documents?’
‘You don’t need to know that.’
‘Why not?’
‘It isn’t relevant. All you need to know is that the documents are hidden somewhere in Celeste’s villa.’
‘She’s hidden them?’
‘No. And I am not going to tell you anything more about them. It is not relevant to your job. What is relevant is that the villa is like a fortress and designed for concealing secrets. It was designed to Celeste’s specifications when she married my father, and I have all the necessary blueprints and video tours of the interior for you to study. I will need you to become as familiar with the villa’s layout as you are with your own home before we go there.’
‘Why?’
‘The weekend we’re there, the villa will be packed with staff. It takes a team of hundreds to organise the party and this will work in my favour as it means I can search for the documents. With bodies everywhere, it will be hard to keep track of us but I don’t like leaving things to chance. I need you to be my eyes and ears while I’m searching.’
Their conversation stopped as their starters were brought to the table, giving Mia the excuse she needed to remove her hand from under his. She resisted the strong urge to shake it and rid herself of the warm impression his fingers left on her skin.
After a few bites and a sip of wine, she said, ‘If the documents are in your mother’s home and she’s not the person who’s hidden them, why don’t you just go over to the villa and look for them instead of all this deception?’
‘That is not possible.’
‘Why not? Just pop over one afternoon on your private jet. It’s not hard.’
Something that sounded remarkably similar to laughter escaped his mouth. Similar to laughter but too cutting to be real.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You’ll understand when you meet Celeste. Trust me, she’s not someone you drop in on.’
‘I drop in on my mum all the time.’
‘Celeste is not like a normal mother. Our appointments are made by her staff.’
It took a beat for her to understand what he meant. ‘You have to make an appointment to see your own mother?’
He inclined his head as if this were perfectly normal.
Trying very hard not to let her mouth drop open, she murmured, ‘This sounds like something out of a soap opera.’
Damián’s fingers tightened around his fork but he tilted his head in the manner of a man whispering sweet nothings to his lover. ‘I assure you, this is no soap opera. This is my life and unless I find those documents my life as it stands is over and everything I’ve spent my life working for will be taken from me.’
‘How?’
‘That isn’t relevant.’
‘Of course it is. You’re dragging me into it. How do I know the documents you’re searching for aren’t actually proof of something illegal you want to cover up?’
‘Criminal acts are your speciality, not mine.’
Her indignation at this was immediate, and it must have shown on her face for he covered her hand again and pressed his fingers into her skin. ‘Soft and loving, Mia. Do not forget we are being watched.’
Swallowing her feelings back, she rested her chin on the hand not being held by his and gazed adoringly at him. ‘You say criminal acts are not your speciality and yet the only reason I’m here is because you’ve blackmailed me.’
Damián stilled and narrowed his eyes at this heinous slur. ‘I haven’t blackmailed you.’
Anger flared from the bright blue eyes gazing into his but her voice kept its sweet modulation. ‘Yes, you have.’
‘No, mi vida, I have not.’
‘You said that if I walked away you didn’t want to ruin me through petty spite. That sounded like a threat.’
‘If you interpreted that as a threat then that’s on you.’
‘“I don’t want to ruin you.” That’s what you said. That implies you would ruin me but the fault would be mine for walking away.’
Damián found himself fighting his own swell of anger. As someone used to his word being taken as gospel, Mia’s cynicism was infuriating, her assertion that he was blackmailing her doubly so.
‘Again, your interpretation of my words is on you,’ he said tightly. ‘If I’d wanted to blackmail you I wouldn’t have bothered with the financial inducement.’
Her gaze continued to hold his speculatively while she chewed her food. There was something about the fire that smouldered behind the speculation that made his blood thicken and stirred his nerve-endings, and he took a large drink of his wine to quell it.
She swallowed, dabbed her lips with her napkin and then bestowed him with a smile that could melt an iceberg as quickly as the fire in her eyes. ‘Then why choose an actress with a sealed criminal record? You must have gone to a heck of a lot of trouble and expense to unearth mine.’
Dios, the evening was not playing out at all as he’d imagined. Mia was playing ball with the role he’d given her but, instead of listening dutifully to the information he relayed, she was arguing the toss on everything.
Trying hard to speak through a jaw intent on clenching at her stubborn disbelief, he forced his mouth to curve into a smile to match hers. ‘Because, mi vida, as I explained earlier, I need an actress without scruples. There is a good chance our search for the documents will involve looking through personal, private spaces. A convicted self-confessed drug dealer does not have scruples...’ He enjoyed the flash of anger this reminder of her criminality clearly provoked. ‘But that was only one of my requirements. I need someone who can fit into my world without anyone looking twice. Look at you now—one new outfit and already you look the part. But you have intelligence too, although I think you need to keep a lid on the overactive part of your imagination. The job requires someone with a sharp brain. There are times, I’m sure, when you will need to think on your feet. On top of that, I neede
d an actress who was unknown but talented. You were one of only a handful who fit all the criteria.’
She laughed. Anyone listening would believe it genuine. Only Damián heard the bite behind it. ‘The unknown part is obviously accurate but what makes you think I’m talented?’
‘I watched your performance last night.’
Her mouth dropped open. After all their verbal jousting, it was hugely entertaining to see her suddenly lost for words.
It took a few attempts for her to croak, ‘You were there?’
‘I needed to see with my own eyes whether you were good enough to pull this off.’ He covered her hand again. Adopting a caressing tone, he said, ‘Seeing you on that stage was the moment I fell in love with you, mi vida.’
Mia shook her head in disbelief. ‘You should be on the stage.’
Damián smiled. ‘Believe me, the weekend at my mother’s is too important for either of us to give anything less than a convincing performance.’
CHAPTER THREE
AS SOON AS they were in the back of Damián’s car Mia pressed herself against the door to keep maximum physical distance from him. After three hours of locked eyes and hand-holding it was disconcerting to find her eyes wanted to stare some more and her fingers felt all tingly...everything felt tingly.
Resting her cheek against the window to cool her overheated skin, she rubbed her lips with her thumb and tried hard to tune him out. Her brain was too overloaded to cope with anything else that day.
Strangely enough, the thing playing on her mind the most out of everything was Damián’s indifference towards his family. It was an indifference she guessed was reciprocated. Who called their mother by their first name? How utterly alien was that? And what kind of mother only saw her children if they made an appointment through her staff? That wasn’t just alien. That was... She couldn’t think of the word to describe how mind-blowing she found it, but figured it explained a lot about his icy persona.
Mia spoke to her mum every day. They met up at least once a week. She didn’t see her sister as much but that was only because Amy worked shifts and Mia tended to work evenings, their days off rarely coinciding. They still spoke lots and messaged all the time and got together whenever they could.
It hadn’t always been like that. Their father’s sudden death almost a decade ago had had the effect of a grenade being thrown at them. That grenade had detonated and caused what Mia had once feared was irreparable damage. Slowly though, the damage had repaired. There would always be scars but Mia, Amy and their mum were now as whole and as tight a family unit as they could be. She had to pray there would be no fallout from this job she’d been given...
She straightened. In a flash, it came to her how she could get out of this.
‘Damián...’ Speaking his name aloud for the first time was as strange an experience as everything else she’d been through that day. It seemed to just roll off her tongue, which immediately longed to have it roll off again. She shook the strange notion away and focused. ‘You said you’d shortlisted other actresses for this job.’
‘And?’
‘Let one of them do it. I only agreed because I thought you were blackmailing me, but as you’re not then—’
‘It’s too late,’ he interrupted tonelessly.
‘I won’t say anything,’ she pleaded. She would beg if she had to. ‘Please? I’ll give you the money back and sign anything you want.’
‘I said it’s too late.’ His face turned to hers. The darkness in his eyes glittered. ‘We’ve been seen together.’
‘But we’ve only had one date.’
‘Believe me, mi vida, I would gladly swap you for another actress but it’s too late. The wheels of our love affair have been set in motion.’
‘After one date?’ she asked in disbelief.
‘I’m being watched and my communications monitored.’
‘By who?’
‘My brother.’
She stared at him in utter shock. Her head was ready to explode with all that had happened that day and this little nugget of information could have ignited it.
His jaw clenched, anger etched deep into his features. She had the feeling the anger was directed at himself. He hadn’t meant to reveal that. It had been a slip of the tongue, and for the first time she felt a pang of sympathy for him.
‘Emiliano is the one behind all this?’
His answer was silence, broken only when the car came to a stop outside her door.
‘Tomorrow we will eat in my apartment,’ Damián said curtly. ‘My driver will collect you at seven.’
Her sympathy vanished at his arrogant assumption. ‘I’m performing tomorrow night.’
‘I fly back to Buenos Aires on Wednesday. It has to be tomorrow.’
‘I’m working.’
‘Get your understudy to fill in for you.’
‘Why don’t you get your understudy to fill in for you in Buenos Aires?’ she retorted pointedly.
‘I do not have an understudy,’ he informed her through what sounded like gritted teeth.
‘Guess what? I don’t have an understudy either. I’ve got eight shows left and then on Sunday the tour’s over.’ And she still didn’t have another job lined up. ‘I’m not pulling out of any of them, so don’t even think of asking me to—or, in your case, ordering me to. I’ve agreed to be available for you next week so don’t push me any further.’
His eyes narrowed to tiny points. She could almost feel the lasers of affronted dislike shooting from them.
‘I will collect you after your performance,’ he said, his voice now clipped. ‘Pack an overnight bag.’
‘I’m not staying the night.’
‘Then cancel your performance and spend the evening with me.’
‘No.’
A sudden breeze kissed her cheeks as the driver opened the door for her. Before she could get out, long warm fingers closed around her wrist and Damián’s face was inches from hers, close enough that she could see the individual hairs of his trim black goatee and the beginnings of stubble breaking out across his jawline. Close enough too for the exotic cologne he wore to dive into her airwaves and send her pulses surging.
A smile played on his lips as his eyes swirled menacingly. ‘You will spend tomorrow night in my apartment, mi vida,’ he said in a low voice. ‘And you will spend next week in it too, as per the contract you signed. I’m paying you a fat fee to do a job and I expect you to fulfil it, and fulfil it to the best of your abilities. Is that understood?’
Swallowing back the moisture in her mouth, dimly aware of his driver waiting for her to get out and likely paying attention, Mia smiled back and brought her mouth to Damián’s ear to whisper, ‘Let go of me right now or I will scream.’
She didn’t mean to touch him but the tip of her nose brushed against his earlobe and, frightened of the jolt that crashed through her, she quickly reared back.
Eyes clashing, his nostrils flared. Barely a second passed in that look before he loosened his hold and dipped his head to place his mouth against her ear, and it was enough for her stomach to flip over and for a fuzziness to envelop her brain.
‘The only screams a man wants from a woman’s mouth are the screams of pleasure,’ he whispered cuttingly. ‘The only thing a man will want to do with your mouth, though, is zip it up.’
With the warmth of his breath lingering against her skin, it took another beat before she realised Damián had let go of her wrist and settled back on the seat. While she tried to open her contracted throat and get her lungs to function properly, he was staring at her with the look of a man who knew he’d dealt a zinger of a finale.
A thick black brow rose as he bestowed her with a sardonic smile. ‘Goodnight, mi vida. I will dream of you.’
Their eyes clashed again, fire and ice raging between them. And something else. A pulse. A charge sh
e’d never felt before but which she instinctively knew spelled danger.
‘Don’t have nightmares,’ she said in the sweetest voice she could muster before jumping out of the car, thanking the driver and doing her best not to run to the sanctuary of her flat.
* * *
Damián’s smile vanished as he watched Mia disappear into the rundown building she called home. He rapped on the partition to let his driver know they could go, then rested back on the seat and closed his eyes. The beats of his heart thudded with such strength he felt the echoes through his heated skin.
He could count on one hand the number of serious mistakes he’d made in his life. Convincing his father to give the untested Emiliano a senior role in the business had always been the top one, a mistake that had cost Damián and his father half a billion dollars of their private wealth. The weight in his stomach told him Mia Caldwell could easily topple that.
He’d not even known her a day but he’d never met anyone outside his immediate family who pushed his buttons as easily as she did. For the sum he was paying her he’d assumed she would be deferential to him. In Damián’s world, people moulded themselves to fit his expectations.
While Mia had played her part in the restaurant beautifully, she clearly had no intention of moulding herself to fit his expectations when they were alone. She wanted him to know the contempt she held him in. She’d gazed at him throughout their meal with the soft, dewy expression he’d demanded but her eyes had told their own story. She’d made no effort to hide her loathing. Like the character he’d watched her play the evening before, she had a wilfulness about her.
This alone would not be an issue, not so long as she played the role he was paying her for when he needed her to.
The biggest problem, he was forced to admit grimly, was his undeniable attraction to her. This was not something he had factored in when desperation had forced him to go down the route of paying an actress to help him. And what the hell had compelled his tongue to reveal that it was his brother he was up against? His answer to her question had come from nowhere.
The Billionaire's Cinderella Contract Page 3
