Sold to the Hottest Bidder
Page 41
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 between 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.”
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 their 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.
She knew that at the end of the day, there were only two choices: she could stay at home, miserable, blaming herself and hating the circumstance that had led someone to uncover Ari’s scheme; or she could do something about it. But what? What can you actually do?
Eva turned onto her back and stared up at her ceiling, exhausted but unable to fall asleep. Her stomach twisted and churned inside of her, in spite of the fact that there was nothing at all wrong with anything she’d eaten that night. Was it really her fault that her conversation with Ari had been overheard? Eva sighed, scrubbing at her face and wishing that she could go to sleep and forget the whole ugly mess.
It wasn’t exactly her fault that they’d been found; she had no idea when their eavesdropper had begun listening, but clearly he had gotten the message that she and Ari were not truly married. For a little while, as she tossed and turned, Eva thought that Ari was as much to blame for their discovery as she was; after all, he had been just as indiscreet. But Eva couldn’t help feeling as though there was something she could—should—do for him.
Eva twisted around between the sheets, unable to get comfortable. Her body was exhausted, but her brain worked in overdrive, turning over the moment when they’d been discovered. She thought about the dinner; she was certain that the Al Akanish family members had believed that she was Ari’s wife. She had felt the kind of rush that only came with successfully putting one over on a mark—and the family had seemed absolutely charmed by herself and Ari.
At some point, Eva fell asleep. She faded in and out of consciousness, occasionally waking up with something that wasn’t quite a thought, only to slip back into darkness with the idea unresolved. Images flitted through her mind: Ari during their intense sessions, watching her attentively, seeming genuinely interested in what her life had been like, the polite but probing questions from the guests at the table, the look on the representatives’ faces when they’d entered the room after everything had unraveled.
Hours later, Eva woke up for good, the half-formed ideas swirling around her head coalescing into something like a plan as she came out of yet another vivid, anxiety-spurring dream. She crawled out of bed and padded into the living room where her laptop sat. “This is either going to fix everything, or it’s not going to work at all,” Eva said to herself as she waited for her computer to boot up. She considered making coffee, but knew it wouldn’t do her much good; she was already jittery and nervous, even without the caffeine.
Eva opened a browser and started searching. There had to be some way to get to the Al Akanish family before they left. She looked up all of the information she could find on the royals, trying to piece together some method of getting to them.
There was surprisingly little; Eva nearly gave up on trying to figure out where they might be—there were no tabloid details, no news articles about the international shipping magnates coming to the city for any reason. Of course, they’re probably very private. But there were ways to find even the most private businessmen and women, Eva reminded herself.
She finally found what she was looking for: the Al Akanish royals owned a hotel a few blocks away from Grand Central station; surely that was where they would be.
“If I owned a hotel, I’
d stay there when I was in town,” she said to herself, rising from her desk and hurrying into her room. She had no idea if the representatives of the shipping company would still be there, or if they would listen to her. She only knew she had to at least attempt to find them, and that if they were there, she would find a way to convince them to listen to her—the same way that she had with Ari.
Eva quickly put on the most professional-looking outfit she had from her previous life, slipping her blazer over a nice blouse and the tailored pants she had invested in to give herself the best possible air of status. She had no idea if there would be any impact on the members of the royal family, but it would make her feel more confident—and Eva was certain that she would need all the confidence that she could get.
As soon as she was dressed, Eva threw her makeup bag and a brush into her purse and hurried downstairs, opening up the Lyft app on her phone and checking to make sure that there was someone close enough to pick her up as quickly as possible. Don’t think about it too much. Jump into it and make it happen. If you think too hard, you’ll psych yourself out.
Her driver arrived, and Eva confirmed that he knew where he was going. She hadn’t even stopped to consider whether she might be able to get to the hotel by subway; the Lyft would at least be cheaper than a cab, though it would be a near thing, and it would be the fastest possible way to get across town. Her heart beat faster and faster in her chest as the traffic ebbed and flowed, making her driver slow down or speed up.
Eva tried to rehearse what she would say to the royals if she could actually get to them—assuming they were in the hotel at all. Assuming that they hadn’t already left. She felt nauseated, uncertain of herself in a way that she hadn’t in years.
By the time she arrived outside of the hotel, shortly before noon, Eva’s whole body was tingling with anxiety, her mouth and throat dry. She darted out of the car and up the stairs, not even certain of how she would go about finding the royals or discovering their whereabouts inside the hotel.