‘This is not a game, Nicole.’ Rigo’s voice took on a dangerous tone. ‘I made it clear the last time we met that I am not a man to mess with.’

‘I would have been quite happy never to lay eyes on you again.’ She narrowed her eyes, the anger she felt finally rising to the surface.

Rigo took a step forward, a half-smile breaking across his harsh features. ‘Now, this is interesting. So far I’ve witnessed Nicole the innocent temptress, followed by Nicole the damsel in distress.’ He raised one brow. ‘But I think this passionately angry version is my personal favourite.’

Nicole was speechless. The idea that they had ever been anything so romantic as lovers was poetic nonsense. Once upon a time she might have thought they shared a connection. That for one night in his bed she had somehow been special.

She had been a fool.

‘My silence is the most you’re going to get. I don’t deal with the press any more.’

‘You will make a public statement that the child is not mine, Nicole.’

She fought the emotion welling up in her chest. It was ridiculous to feel hurt at his words after so long. After all, he had made his position on fatherhood quite clear. But still, a part of her had always hoped he would come in those weeks afterwards.

Indignation won out over the sadness, and she stood up a little taller, meeting his gaze head-on. ‘I will not publicly tell lies …’

Secret Heirs of Billionaires

There are some things money can’t buy …

Living life at lightning pace, these magnates are no strangers to stakes at their highest. It seems they’ve got it all … That is until they find out that there’s an unplanned item to add to their list of accomplishments!

Achieved:

1. Successful business empire

2. Beautiful women in their bed

3. An heir to bear their name …?

Though every billionaire needs to leave his legacy in safe hands, discovering a secret heir shakes up his carefully orchestrated plan in more ways than one!

Uncover their secrets in:

Unwrapping the Castelli Secret by Caitlin Crews

Brunetti’s Secret Son by Maya Blake

The Secret to Marrying Marchesi by Amanda Cinelli

Look out for more stories in Secret Heirs of Billionaires series in 2016!

millsandboon.co.uk

The Secret to Marrying Marchesi

Amanda Cinelli

www.millsandboon.co.uk

AMANDA CINELLI was raised in a large Irish/Italian family in the suburbs of Dublin, Ireland. Her love of romance was inspired after ‘borrowing’ one of her mother’s beloved Mills & Boon novels at the age of twelve. Writing soon became a necessary outlet for her wildly overactive imagination. Now married, with a daughter of her own, she splits her time between changing nappies, studying psychology and writing love stories.

For my grandmother Anne.

Who taught me to always have a pile of good books by my bedside.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Secret Heirs of Billionaires

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

SHE WAS DEFINITELY being followed.

Nicole tightened her grip on the stroller’s handlebar and picked up her pace. The same black Jeep had already made its way past her three times as she took her morning walk through the village. Two men sat inside, their dark sunglasses doing nothing to disguise the fact that their attention was focused entirely on her. As the vehicle slowed to a complete crawl a short distance behind her, she felt the familiar prick of ice-cold terror in her throat. It was officially time to panic.

The cobbled laneway that led up to her farmhouse was still slippery from the light April drizzle. Her ballet flats scraped against the stone as the breath whooshed from her lungs with effort. A gleeful squeal sounded from within the cocoon of pink blankets as the stroller bounced and swayed. Nicole forced herself to smile down at her daughter through tight lips, summoning an inner calm she wasn’t quite sure she possessed. They were nearly home. She would lock the door and everything would be fine.

As she rounded the last bend that led to La Petite, she slowed to a stop. The gateway was filled with vehicles, and a line of cars stretched further up the lane. A dozen figures stood in wait with cameras slung around their necks. Nicole felt a humming begin in her ears as her blood pressure instantly skyrocketed.

They had found her.

Thinking fast, she pulled off her light jacket and draped it over the stroller’s hood. They descended quickly, the crowd of men forming a circle around her as the cameras began to flash. She kept her head down, and the air seemed to stretch her lungs to breaking point as she tried to move forward. They seemed to gather more tightly around her. Apparently the addition of a child made absolutely no difference to the paparazzi’s definition of personal space.

A man stepped forward, blocking her way. ‘Come on—a quick photo of the young ’un, Miss Duvalle.’ He smile was shark-like, sharp-toothed and dangerous. ‘You’ve kept this hidden quite well, haven’t you?’

Nicole bit down hard on her bottom lip. Silence was the key here. Give them nothing and pray that they went away. The sudden jarring sound of a car horn was just what she needed as the black Jeep appeared in the lane behind her. The vehicle began pushing its way through the crowd, forcing the photographers to scatter. Taking advantage of the distraction, she moved as fast as she could, pushing hard through the throng.

It seemed like a lifetime before she crossed the gateway onto her own private property. They couldn’t enter without breaking the law, but she wasn’t so naive to think that she was somehow out of their reach.

She would never have privacy here again. The thought brought a choking sob to her throat.

She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder and focused on retrieving her keys from her handbag with trembling hands. Once she was finally inside, she slid the deadbolt into place and scooped Anna up into her arms. Her daughter’s warm cotton scent soothed her nerves, giving her a small moment of relief through the haze of blind panic. The sun shone through the windows, brightening the room and filling the space with light. Anna’s sparkling blue eyes smiled up at her, so peaceful and unknowing of the situation they were in.

She needed to find out what was going on. Now. She gently settled her daughter on a soft mat surrounded by toys, then quickly got to work. It wasn’t an easy task to fire up the ancient computer that had come with the farmhouse. One of her first resolutions upon moving to the French countryside from London had been to throw away her smartphone and stop checking the showbiz news. Still, she made sure to keep a phone charged for emergencies. One that only made and received calls—that was all she needed.

It seemed like hours before she could finally type a few keywords into the search engine on the dusty screen. She immediately wished she hadn’t bothered.

‘Billionaire Marchesi’s Secret Love Child Uncovered!’

Seeing the words in black and white filled her with ice-cold dread. She scanned through a few lines of the anonymous interview before turning away from the screen in disgust. Was her life always going to be sordid entertainment for the masses? She bit her lip hard as she dropped her head into her hands. She wouldn’t cry.

This wasn’t supposed to happen to her here. The tiny village of L’Annique had been her sanctuary for more than a year now. She had fallen in love with her kind neighbours and the quiet, almost humdrum atmosphere. Unlike in London, where her name was synonymous with scandal, here she had been free to raise her daughter in peace. And now this quiet village would be overtaken by the storm of her old life catching up with her.

Every penny from the sale of her London town house had been poured into her new beginning. Uprooting herself again would bankrupt her. And if she ran they would follow her—of that much she could be sure. She didn’t have the kind of power it took to protect her child from the media.

There was only one person she knew who did. But the man she was thinking of didn’t deal with idle tabloid gossip. Rigo Marchesi wouldn’t even think of trying to help her. She was surprised the media had even dared to cross him with the sheer power of his family name. Luckily for him he had a whole team of PR people to deal with this. Nicole would be left, alone once again, to pick up the pieces and deal with the aftermath.

She parted the curtains to peer out at the crowd, frowning at the sight of the men and their cameras being herded further down the street. Two police cars full of officers had arrived and they were quickly moving all the people and vehicles down the lane and out of view.

A second black Jeep had joined the first, this one with blacked-out windows. A handful of men in dark suits stepped out and began fanning across the premises and down each side of the laneway.

Nicole felt her breathing slow to a dangerous pace, and the air rushed in her ears as she watched the last man step out of the vehicle. He was tall, wearing a sleek suit and dark sunglasses. She bit her bottom lip hard as he finally turned to face her, removing the glasses from his face. A moment of utter stillness passed before she released her breath in one slow whoosh.

It wasn’t him.

For a moment there she had honestly thought... Well, it didn’t matter what she’d thought. Right now the tall, suited man was walking up to her front door.

Pushing her hair behind her ears and clearing her throat, she opened the door with the latch in place, so that she might survey the imposing stranger through a comfortable three-inch gap. Something about him was vaguely familiar.

‘Miss Duvalle?’ He had a hawklike gaze and spoke in her native English, albeit with a strong Italian accent. ‘My name is Alberto Santi. I work for Signor Marchesi.’

She felt cold humiliation prick at her memory. This was the man who did all the jobs that Rigo wouldn’t lower himself to do. He wore the same disapproving glare now as he had the night he’d guided her across a crowded room, away from his employer’s mocking laughter.

‘I am here to help you.’ He spoke calmly.

‘You have some nerve, showing up at my door.’ She shook her head, moving to close the gap, but found the door blocked by a polished leather shoe.

‘I have orders to bring you under the protection of the Marchesi Group.’

‘I don’t take orders from Rigo Marchesi.’ She crossed her arms in front of herself. She knew whom these orders were from. Knew the kind of ruthless power she was faced with here.

‘Perhaps I phrased that poorly.’ The man forced a smile to his thin lips. ‘I have been sent to offer you assistance. May I come in so that we can speak privately?’

Nicole thought on it for a moment. It wasn’t as if she had a whole lot of other options. Perhaps at least he could organise some sort of protection for them. She stood back, unclipping the latch and motioning for him to come inside.

He moved through the doorway and took in the surroundings of her simple home with quick, disapproving efficiency. He looked back down at her. ‘Miss Duvalle, my team has already contained the area, as you can see.’ He gestured to the men standing guard at the gateway to her property. ‘We would prefer it if you had no more contact with the media until we have a chance to resolve the matter privately.’

‘That’s kind of difficult, considering they are camped out on my doorstep.’

‘Which is why I am here. A meeting has been arranged in Paris to address this...situation. If you choose to cooperate you will be offered every assistance.’

The way he called it that—a ‘situation’—made it sound like such a nuisance. A minor fender-bender in the Marchesi fashion empire’s shipshape working schedule. These people had no appreciation of the fact that her entire life had been upended for the second time in less than two years.

‘I have no control over this situation, Mr Santi, as you can see. So I doubt that I can help anyone to resolve it. All I need is to keep my daughter out of this mess.’

‘The media will not relent—you know this,’ he said gravely. ‘Surely you expected the attention?’

‘Why on earth would I expect this?’

The man shrugged and looked away, making it clear what he meant. Nicole felt cold shame wash over her. Just as she had on the last occasion this man had passed on a message from his employer. She shook her head in disgust. Of course Rigo would think that she had willingly pawned her child off to the tabloids. She was Goldie Duvalle’s daughter after all, wasn’t she?

Shaking off the hurt and anger, she forced herself to speak. ‘Just to be clear—if I decline to come with you will the police stay to protect my privacy?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

Well, there it was. She felt the skin on her arms prickle. It was clear she was being given an ultimatum. Get in the car and go and make a deal with the devil or stay put and be trapped in her home while the vultures circled.

Sure, she could always leave and find some new place. But with this much attention on them she and Anna would never live a normal life again. They hadn’t managed to get a clear photograph of her daughter yet, but they would. And with the scandal of her parentage she would become infamous.

She knew what that life was like. She had lived it. And she would never put her child under that kind of microscope. But now...would she be able to ensure Anna’s privacy with this scandal surrounding them both? She didn’t have the kind of financial power it took to control the media, to keep her daughter’s innocent face off the front pages.

Her chest tightened. Anna was too young to be aware of the drama unfolding around her. But Nicole knew better than anyone that awareness would come with age. Memories of her own childhood threatened to surface. She could almost feel the familiar stifling pressure to perform for the public.

She shook her head and paced to the window once more. The thought of those men outside, wrestling with each other to take photographs of her daughter to sell to the highest bidder... It stirred something deep and primal inside her. This was exactly why she had walked away from her old life in the first place.

She didn’t want Rigo’s help, but she wasn’t stubborn enough not to recognise that she was in desperate need of it. She was certain he would want this whole episode erased as soon as possible. He had made his stance on fatherhood abundantly clear once already, hadn’t he?

She would go to Paris. She would sacrifice her pride and ask him for help. The story would be silenced and they could all return to normality.

* * *

The European headquarters of the Marchesi Group was a gargantuan chrome-and-glass tower in the heart of Paris. It was a relatively new building, and its acquisition had been one of the first changes to his family’s historic fashion brand that Rigo Marchesi had made upon taking his seat as CEO five years previously.

There had been outrage when he had moved the company’s flagship building from Milan to Paris. But Rigo had a vision for the future of his company, and that vision required change.

Keeping his finger on the pulse of the modern business world was what made him a great leader, along with his razor-sharp negotiating skills and a clean-cut, dependable reputation. His unconventional choices had already seen profits skyrocket, and his family name restored after the steady downward decline of the business during the decade preceding his rise to CEO.

Great leaders were never caught by surprise. Rigo glowered at his computer screen as he stirred a spoonful of organic sweetener into his double espresso. Great leaders were not waylaid by a scandal that had apparently already been live on the internet for several hours. Above all, great leaders did not get publicly vilified by the world’s media mere weeks before the biggest deal of their company’s history was about to be completed.

Downing the hot coffee in one go, he stood up and paced across to the window.

Nicole Duvalle had been a blip. A moment of madness that had somehow bypassed his usually crystal-clear judgement. Rigo did not do mindless pleasure. He made sure that the women he took into his bed had their own careers to take up most of their time, just as he did. He was selective in his affairs and had no time for the kind of woman who was simply attracted to his net worth.

And yet when it had come to Nicole his logic had failed him. He’d got caught up in the blinding attraction between them and thought to hell with the consequences.

Well, the consequences were here now, and Miss Duvalle had no idea what she had just started.

Rigo turned as the glass door to his office opened and Alberto entered. His right-hand man looked rumpled and nothing like his usual pristine self.

‘I trust your day has gone to plan?’ Rigo raised a brow in question.

‘She walked out after less than five minutes.’ Alberto exhaled harshly. ‘They offered her the deal and she point-blank refused it.’

Rigo was silent for a moment, leaning back against the desk. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t expected this outcome. If Nicole was as money hungry as her mother she would hardly accept the first pay-off she was offered. He had only offered the money to get the story settled quickly, out of the courtroom.

The deal he was currently negotiating with French jewellery icon Fournier was time sensitive. The family-owned company had been initially reluctant to merge with such a large corporation, and it had already taken months to get to this point. Rigo gritted his teeth, feeling his jaw tighten with frustration. How could one interview cause this much mayhem?

Already he had been notified of shareholders jumping ship and rumbles amongst the board members. His late grandfather had left a black spot on the Marchesi name that had almost bankrupted their eighty-five-year-old brand. After his own father’s tireless work to put the business to rights, there was no way Rigo would let this shake them.

If his own shareholders were nervous, then he was damn sure Fournier were nervous, too. And he didn’t blame them. Eighty per cent of their market was female. A new CEO who had apparently left his conquest pregnant and out on the street was bad for business.

Even if was a blatant lie told by a ruthless gold-digger.

‘Where is she now?’ Rigo asked.

Alberto looked uneasy for a moment. ‘The child needed to sleep, so we put her in one of the company apartments on Avenue Montaigne.’

‘She rejects the deal and you immediately set her up in luxury accommodation?’ He raised a brow. ‘Alberto, you are a soft touch.’

‘We couldn’t risk the press getting wind of her location yet,’ Alberto said hurriedly.

‘Forget about it. I will just have to fix this myself,’ Rigo growled, grabbing his suit jacket.

It was time for him to reinforce what he apparently hadn’t made clear enough to her the last time.

He would not be made to look a fool.

* * *

Ignoring the uncomfortable burn in her stomach, Nicole scraped the rest of her half-eaten meal into the bin and poured a small glass of white wine. She needed to unwind and get rid of this nervous energy so that she could formulate a plan. A plan that did not involve being holed up at the top of a fancy apartment tower like a scared defenceless princess.

She walked over to the windows, looking at the lights of Paris twinkling in the dusk.

Her old life had been filled with nights like this, drinking wine and gazing out at the lights of countless beautiful cities. But no city had ever felt like home—not even London. ‘Home’ was what she had been trying to create in L’Annique. A stable, solid place where Anna could grow up, go to school, have her first kiss. All of those normal things that young girls were meant to go through. And instead they’d been forced to flee, to accept help from the one man she had promised herself she would never turn to, no matter how hard things got.

She sank down onto the suede sofa and closed her eyes. It had taken over an hour to get Anna to sleep in the absence of her usual routine. She needed to pull herself together. After all, children felt their mother’s anxiety, didn’t they? Their entire life had fallen to pieces and she only had herself to blame.

She took a long sip from her wine and gazed anxiously out the window at the dark street below. Alberto had assured her that they were guaranteed privacy here, that they would be safe from the press until they came to an agreement. And that was all that Nicole needed right now—until she figured out what the hell her options were.

The luxury apartment was on the third floor of an exclusive building not far from the Champs-Elysées. It was all high-gloss modern minimalist furniture and white walls—not very child friendly or lived-in.

Honestly, what on earth had she been thinking to come here? Of course they wanted to pay her off, she cursed silently, kicking off her shoes and tucking them underneath herself. She had expected to be met with a gag order of some form, but not an outright pay-off in return for her lies. She needed help, but the deal she had been offered came at a price much too high for her to pay.

She had barely thought about Rigo in the weeks before all of this. That had been no mean feat, considering she looked into her daughter’s cobalt-blue eyes every single day. It had been more than a year since she had looked into the identical blue eyes of her one-night lover.

Maybe on some level she had half hoped he would be there today. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to be quite so calm if he had been.

A knock sounded on the door to the apartment. Nicole stood slowly. Alberto had said no one would know her location here except for him...and his boss.

‘Who is it?’ She stood in front of the closed door, feeling her heartbeat pound against her ribcage.

‘You know who it is, Nicole.’

She felt the deep baritone of his voice vibrate right down to the soles of her feet. She fought the sudden need to turn tail and run. She stood frozen, amazed at her own ridiculous nerves. Her stomach seemed to be flipping over in circles as she reached out and laid her hand on the doorknob.

She swung the door open and there he was. Six foot two of pure Italian male, his short dark hair perfectly coiffed to match his immaculately tailored suit.

‘May I come in?’ he said, the subtle hardness of his tone belying the seemingly polite request.

Nicole stepped back, opening the door wide and gesturing for him to enter.

She was aware of his cobalt-blue gaze sweeping over her as he moved into the apartment. His eyes still had the ability to make her breath catch. No doubt he was taking note of how much she had changed since they’d last met. She became acutely aware of the fact that she was about ten pounds heavier, her plain brown hair hadn’t seen a stylist in over a year and she had stains from Anna’s supper all over her jeans.

She self-consciously tugged the hem of her plain white cotton shirt down lower on her hips.

Rigo leaned casually against the bar in the open-plan kitchen. His arms were crossed over his impressive chest and he continued to stare at her, waiting.

‘Nothing to say, Nicole?’ he asked.

‘I would say it’s nice to see you again, but we both know that would be a lie.’ She avoided his gaze, staring at a point to the left of his shoulder. ‘I suppose I should be honoured that you’ve even bothered to speak in person.’

His brows raised a centimetre. ‘Believe me, I have a thousand things I would much rather spend my time doing than this.’

‘At least we’re being honest.’ She shrugged, telling herself not to be hurt by that statement. She had no reason to be hurt. They were practically strangers. He might be her daughter’s biological father but they had only ever spent one night together. She felt heat reach her cheeks as she thought of what that night had involved.

Rigo didn’t seem to take any notice of her heightened colour. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say we are being honest at all, Nicole,’ he drawled. ‘If you’re angling for more money, then I am afraid you are wasting your time. You’re lucky I am offering you anything at all and not dragging you into court for slander.’

‘I don’t want a single cent from you.’ Nicole crossed her arms defensively. ‘All I want is for the press to back off and give me back my privacy.’

Rigo let out a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Oh, that’s your play, is it? We both know you threw away any right you have to privacy the moment you dragged my name through the mud.’

‘I had nothing to do with this.’ She met his eyes without hesitation.

‘This is not a game, Nicole.’ His voice took on a dangerous tone. ‘I made it clear the last time we met that I am not a man to mess with.’

‘I would have been quite happy never to lay eyes on you again. Your ego is so large it’s amazing you can even get out of bed in the morning.’ She narrowed her eyes, the anger she felt finally rising to the surface.

Rigo took a step forward, a half-smile breaking across his harsh features. ‘Now, this is interesting. So far I’ve witnessed Nicole, the innocent temptress, followed by Nicole, the damsel in distress.’ He raised one brow. ‘But I think this passionately angry version is my personal favourite.’

Nicole was speechless. The way he looked at her, his eyes filled with such disdain... It made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. How had she ever thought that this man had felt anything close to what she’d felt that night? He was a complete stranger right now. The idea that they had ever been anything so romantic as lovers was poetic nonsense. The harsh reality was that they were simply two people who had had sex.

Once upon a time she might have thought they shared a connection. That for one night in his bed she had somehow been special.

She had been so naive.

‘Rigo, you are threatening to sue me because of gossip that I have no control over.’

‘Then, why have you not tried to deny it?’ he countered.

‘My silence is the most you’re going to get. I don’t deal with the press anymore.’

‘You will make a public statement that the child is not mine, Nicole.’

His mere presence was so commanding that she would be a fool not to feel intimidated by the demand. She fought the emotion welling up in her chest. It was ridiculous to feel hurt at his words after so long. After all, he had made his position on fatherhood quite clear. But still, a part of her had always hoped he would come in those weeks afterwards.

Even as she’d lain in hospital, terrified to hold her tiny premature daughter, she’d held hope that his world had shifted as profoundly as hers had. That he would instinctively know he had become a father.

Indignation won out over the sadness, and she stood up a little taller, meeting his gaze head-on. ‘I told you that I was pregnant with your child. You chose not to be a part of it, and that is fine. But I will not publicly tell lies and go against my principles as a mother just to protect your damn family name.’

He shook his head with disbelief. ‘Do you honestly think I would have let you run off like you did unless I was completely sure that I was not the father of your child?’

Nicole walked to the kitchen counter and began digging down to the bottom of her handbag. Her fingers finally closed on the object she sought, and she turned back to meet his cold gaze once more.

‘I’m telling you that you were wrong, Rigo.’ She held out the photograph. ‘Anna is your daughter and here is the proof.’

CHAPTER TWO

RIGO LOOKED AT the woman standing before him. She was so different from what he remembered. Gone was the carefree, uninhibited temptress and in her place was this formidable tigress of a brunette, wearing torn jeans. He always went into negotiations prepared, with adequate knowledge of his opponent. But it seemed that his previous knowledge no longer applied.

He took the photograph from her, holding it between his hands as she watched him. The picture was of a baby with soft brown curls and fair skin. He looked back down at Nicole.

‘This is not proof of anything.’

Hurt flashed across Nicole’s pale features for a brief instant before she shook her head and snatched the photograph from his hands. ‘I don’t know what else to say. I have been completely honest with you from the start. I told you that I was pregnant, and I didn’t cause a scene when you chose not to be involved.’

Rigo bit his lip with frustration. She was determined to stay her course. That much was becoming brutally clear. He had known she was an actress as a child, but he had never expected her to be this stoic in her performance.

‘You make me out to be such a villain in this production of yours,’ he said, keeping his tone deliberately calm.

‘Rigo, right now all I’m asking of you is that you use your power and influence so that I can go back home with my daughter and never bother you again.’

‘And am I to presume you don’t want a single penny from my heartless hands?’

She sighed audibly. ‘Ask yourself this. Why would I wait almost six months of my child’s life before leaking a story if I was so desperate? It doesn’t make sense.’

She looked so maternal right now, so innocent. It was likely she meant to look that way—to play the victim. He shook off the feeling of unease after seeing the photograph of the child. He was here to finish this.

‘You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.’ He shrugged. ‘But I am not in the least bit inclined to make sense of what goes on in your brain. Whether or not you leaked the story is of no consequence to me right now.’

‘You just want me to clear your name.’ She bit her lip. ‘I can’t do that, Rigo. I won’t lie.’

Rigo fought the urge to growl. ‘Nicole, I might be able to gag the media and prevent further stories, but I can’t undo the damage that has already been done. The public cannot be gagged. And the only way to stop them talking is for the scandal to be disproved.’ He paused for effect, watching as her eyes narrowed. ‘I am willing to increase the offer that was made to you today by twenty per cent. I’m asking you to do the right thing for everyone involved.’

All trace of softness seemed to disappear as she took a deep breath, shoving both hands into the pockets of her jeans. ‘As much as I want my privacy back, I can’t compromise my integrity and tell a lie that will affect my daughter forever. I vowed that I would never come to you, Rigo, and I haven’t until now. But right now her privacy means a lot more to me than my pride.’ She looked at him, her caramel-coloured eyes wide and deathly serious. ‘Do a paternity test. If it proves negative I will make whatever statement you like.’

‘I fail to see the point in performing a test when I already know what the outcome will be.’ He fought the urge to raise his voice. Performing a test would mean more time, and every day this scandal was out there was another day of plummeting shares.

‘If you are completely sure that she is not your daughter, then you have nothing to lose.’ Her voice was quiet.

‘Fine—I will arrange for the damned test. But, Nicole, once the negative result is confirmed, you will make a statement to the press.’

‘If it’s negative, you have a deal.’ She nodded.

‘Good, then we’re done here.’ He made to move towards the door.

‘Wait!’ she called, stopping him midstride. ‘We haven’t discussed the details of what will be done if the test is positive.’

Rigo shook his head. ‘If the test is positive...’ he said, looking down again at the picture of the child briefly. Her eyes were a deep cobalt blue. If he wasn’t so sure that he was sterile he might almost call them Marchesi blue.

Nicole was looking at him intently. He tore his gaze away and walked over to open the door, very intent on leaving all of a sudden.

‘It would be nothing short of miraculous,’ he stated plainly. ‘I’m pretty sure a paternity test isn’t going to change what I already know.’

With that, he closed the door behind him.

* * *

The executive boardroom of the Marchesi Group headquarters was on the forty-fifth floor. Nicole sat alone at the end of the black marble conference table while various men and women in designer suits sat around her in complete silence. No one addressed her or looked her way. She suddenly wished she could trade places with Anna, who lay happily chewing on her toes in the stroller by her side.

An elderly white-haired gentleman sat at the top of the table, watching her. Nicole cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter in her seat. A slim leather folder was laid out in front of her. She hesitated for a moment before opening it, aware that all eyes in the room were suddenly trained upon her. The cheque inside had so many zeroes she felt her breath catch.

The white-haired man sat forward, clearing his throat. ‘As the most senior member of the board present, I am presenting you with our final offer, Miss Duvalle.’

‘This can’t be right...’ she breathed, the figures swimming in her vision.

‘The Marchesi Group is offering you a generous deal in return for your public statement that Rigo Marchesi is not the father of your child.’

‘This wasn’t the deal.’ She began to pick at her nails under the table, a familiar sense of entrapment setting in. This wasn’t a meeting at all. It was an ambush.

‘Understand this, Miss Duvalle. We will not be negotiating the figure on that cheque, so if you want the pay-out I would advise you to take it now.’ The man sat back in his seat, openly surveying the neckline of her blouse.

Nicole crossed her arms over her chest, feeling very small and very alone in the room full of suits. It would be so easy just to do what they asked. To deny the truth and run away would be the easier option in some respects. The truth was inconvenient—just as she and her daughter were. A press release would take less than ten minutes and then she could escape. She could forget all about Rigo Marchesi and start over again somewhere new.

And what would happen when her daughter became old enough to understand? What about when she asked why her father had never played a part in her life? Her daughter would eventually find out that her mother had lied to the world and denied her the right to her true parentage.

She thought of her own mother, of her countless lies and manipulations. All for money. What kind of role model would she be if she lied to her own daughter about something so important?

She took a deep breath. These people wouldn’t cow her. ‘I won’t be signing a thing without speaking to Mr Marchesi first.’

A woman in a beige suit spoke, her hawklike eyes spitting fire across the room. ‘I’m aware that you probably grew up observing a certain level of...legal negotiations through your mother. But are you really prepared to go toe to toe with a multi-billion-euro corporation in a courtroom?’

Nicole felt her skin prickle. These people made her feel cheap and utterly worthless.

Suddenly every other person at the table avoided her eyes, seeming very focused on the door behind her.

Nicole turned to see Rigo’s hulking frame silhouetted in the doorway.

She stood, anger steeling her resolve. ‘This is unacceptable. I won’t be bullied.’

‘I did not agree to this meeting, Nicole.’ His voice was deeper than usual, and his gaze dropped momentarily to where Anna was growing rapidly more tired in her stroller. ‘Go and wait in my office, I’ll be there in a moment.’

* * *

Rigo stood dangerously still at the top of the table and waited for Nicole to leave before he spoke. ‘Somebody had better tell me right now why this meeting was arranged without my knowledge.’

The man at the top of the table sat forward. His uncle Mario was a white-haired oaf in his late fifties, with a penchant for contesting his nephew’s authority at every turn. ‘We have already got agreement from the rest of the board. You have been outvoted in your plan. Swift, heavy-handed action is in the best interests of the company.’

Rigo cleared his throat, eyeing the leather-bound folder on the table and closing it with a loud snap that resounded across the table. ‘This will not be buried with legal settlements.’

A brave PR executive spoke up. ‘You know that this company’s past makes it far more vulnerable to the media. Your father always made it clear that private indiscretions cannot be allowed to fester.’

Rigo felt his patience snap. ‘My father is no longer CEO of this corporation. I am. Everyone who is not a member of the board leave the room. Now.’

He turned to the window, taking three deep breaths as the men and women quickly scurried from the room. This afternoon had pumped his adrenaline into overdrive—and only half of it had to do with suddenly finding out about this clandestine meeting.

He turned to face his uncle, the only board member present. ‘You don’t have the power to make my decisions for me, Mario. If you wanted my job you could have fought for it.’

‘I value my free time far too much.’ Mario rolled his eyes. ‘This is a straightforward pay-off, Rigo.’ He stood up, stalking towards him. ‘This woman is slandering the Marchesi name out there and jeopardising the entire Fournier deal, for God’s sake.’

‘It’s not slander,’ Rigo stated gruffly, hearing the words echo in his mind as he said them. ‘I had the DNA analysis confirmed twenty minutes ago. The child is mine.’

Mario was silently stunned for a moment, his mouth agape. ‘You agreed to a paternity test without alerting the legal team?’ His eyes bulged. ‘Are you completely insane? Even your grandfather wasn’t that stupid.’

Mario didn’t seem in the least surprised at the news itself—which was more than could be said for Rigo. He was still absorbing the information. His brain was working overtime, examining the revelation that, against all the odds, Nicole had been telling the truth. He had never once wavered in his certainty that she was lying. He’d long ago taken very permanent measures to make sure he would never be put in this position again. And yet here he was.

His uncle cleared his throat, looking pointedly at the leather folder. ‘Marchesi men have all committed some indiscretions, Rigo. It seems it is a family weakness. My advice is to not let this get in the way of resolving the matter. Everyone has a price. Find hers.’

* * *

Nicole paced from one side of Rigo’s open-plan office to the other. Her fists clenched by her sides as she weighed up the options in her head.

Plan A was to walk out of there without another word to Rigo Marchesi or his goons. She could take her chances with the press and beg for privacy—or, more likely, just give up on her dreams of ever having a normal life again. But her daughter would grow up knowing that her mother had tried her best.

Plan B... Well, plan B was to take every moral she had and throw it out the window.

She sat down on the nearest armchair and tried to clear her thoughts.

Strangely, she wished her mother were here to guide her through this. No, she corrected herself, she wished that her mother cared enough to try to help. But Goldie Duvalle was a law unto herself, breezing in and out of her daughter’s life in between marriages and even then only when she wanted something.

The last time she had seen her mother had been the day she’d told her that she was pregnant. Cold anger made her fists clench tight by her sides, her insides tightening at the memory of having her last thread of hope pulled out from under her. Her mother was not an option—not unless she needed some contacts for a magazine spread.

With her own upbringing to go by, maybe she had been fooling herself to think she could offer her daughter a normal life. Her erratic childhood had been the furthest thing from normal you could get. It seemed that scandal was just destined to follow her around everywhere that she went.

She looked around, feeling small and alone in the iron-and-marble-dominated office space. Anna had fallen asleep in her stroller by the window.

Rigo entered the office with a dull thud of the heavy panelled door behind him. His usually perfectly groomed dark hair was ruffled, and that same formidable expression on his face made her confidence waver.

He stood still, looking around him. ‘The child?’

That one question caught her off guard. She frowned, gesturing to where the stroller sat by the window, her daughter now sleeping peacefully inside.

‘She won’t wake if we speak?’ he asked.

Nicole shook her head once, trying not to soften at his apparent concern. ‘She’s a deep sleeper, thankfully. She should be fine.’

Rigo nodded brusquely, his eyes lingering on the pale pink blankets for a moment before turning back to her. His eyes held the strangest combination of anger and some other unknown emotion.

They stood there for a moment, facing each other in complete silence, before Rigo finally spoke.

‘Let me make it clear that I had nothing to do with that meeting.’ His jaw was tight as he held her gaze in earnest. ‘The board members were growing impatient and decided to act against me. I’m sorry you were put through that.’

She hadn’t expected an apology. It kind of threw her. ‘I told you I wouldn’t sign anything without the test.’

‘You did.’ He breathed out heavily. He walked past her, moving across the large office to his desk. He gestured to a leather wingback chair, motioning to her to sit, and taking a seat behind the desk once she had.

With his hands clasped in front of him he looked instantly more powerful and infinitely less approachable. The formidable CEO, taking care of yet another item on his agenda. He was powerful and unyielding, and yet right now he looked off balance somehow.

‘I have received a phone call from the laboratory,’ he said calmly. He tapped his thumb absentmindedly on the desk. He looked at her. ‘The test results reveal a positive DNA match.’

Nicole stared back at him for a moment, unsure of what to say in response to this sterile, emotionless statement. ‘I see,’ she said quietly, watching as his thumb continued to move of its own volition, beating a steady rhythm.

‘That is all you have to say?’ he asked.

She shrugged, biting down on her lower lip. ‘I already knew what the result would be.’

He leaned back in his seat and watched her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. ‘I chose not believe your claim based on what I believed to be the facts, Nicole. Now that I know I was mistaken... Well, our current situation is regrettable.’

It was like speaking with a corporate drone. Was it simply ‘regrettable’ that he’d missed the first six months of his child’s life? Nicole thought of the countless milestones that had come and gone, the days and nights full of laughter and tears. It seemed as if an entire lifetime had passed between them since the day he had made his regrettable choice.

Anger flared in her chest as she took in his solemn expression.

Rigo continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil. ‘The media’s attention is an immediate concern for us both, but I feel that we can come to an agreement to work it to our advantage.’

She crossed her arms, amazed that he was still talking business when he had just found out he had a daughter. ‘I’ve told you already. I won’t lie to the press to save your public image.’

‘I am not asking you to lie,’ he countered. ‘Now that I know she is mine, I do not plan to deny the fact. Publicly or otherwise.’

There it was. The words she had hoped to hear a lifetime ago. Only instead of feeling relief that her daughter would have some sort of relationship with her father, all she felt was cold, icy fear.

She stood up, taking a few paces away from him. ‘First of all, she is not yours,’ she said breathlessly, turning back to face him. ‘You are biologically her father, but the rest you have to earn. I am not asking for anything right now other than your help in getting the press off my doorstep.’

He didn’t speak. He just watched her with that same intensity she had come to recognise was naturally him.

Nicole crossed her arms, looking down at him. ‘There is no obligation for you to play a part in Anna’s life if you don’t want to.’

‘We both know that my walking away isn’t an option here.’

She didn’t know if that meant he didn’t want to walk away or that he knew it wouldn’t look good. She had a hard time believing that it was completely the former.

‘I would be happy for you to play a part in her life. But if you go public as her father you know that I will be hounded by paparazzi for the rest of my days. Pictures of her will be used to pad out every tabloid on the planet. Is that what you want?’

‘You don’t want to lie, but you don’t want me to tell them the truth?’ He sat back, his eagle eyes surveying her with keen interest. ‘It seems we have run out of options, then.’

‘All I’m asking from you is media protection,’ she said calmly. ‘I know such things exist with your kind of power.’

‘Protective orders are flimsy and easily overturned. The photographers would still come for pictures of you. The story is out there and she will always be a child of scandal. It will stick to her like glue.’

‘There has to be a way...’ Nicole felt herself weaken with the weight of his words. He was right, of course. The damage had already been done. Scandals like this never truly disappeared.

Had she really been so naive as to think that he could somehow magically make it all go away? She had brought her daughter into this world and made a vow never to let the same things happen to her that she had suffered herself as a child. Being hounded by cameras at the school gates and constantly playing a part for the media. She had grown up far too quickly as a result. How could she let her daughter suffer the same?

Rigo cleared his throat, standing and coming around to perch against the side of his desk. ‘There is a way, Nicole. One I’m prepared to offer so that we might work the media to our mutual advantage.’

‘How on earth could we do that?’ She looked at his serious expression, feeling utterly defeated. She had only made things worse by running away and hiding. Anything she did now would just be damage control. A normal life wasn’t something the secret child of a billionaire could ever hope for, was it?

Rigo’s voice was cool and businesslike. ‘The fastest and most effective way to turn a story on its head is to give the media an even bigger story to salivate over.’

‘What could be bigger than this?’ She frowned.

‘A wedding. To be more precise, our wedding.’

Nicole was silent, hardly believing what he was saying. If she had heard him correctly that was absolutely ridiculous and not a real solution at all.

‘You want to pretend that we’re married?’ she said incredulously. ‘That wouldn’t do a thing—everyone would know it was a sham.’

‘I am not suggesting a sham.’ He looked down at her, some unknown emotion blazing in his eyes. ‘Nicole, the only way to end this scandal once and for all is for me to prove that I have not abandoned my child and her mother. To make a grand production of how wrong the media has got it. And the best way for me to do that...is for you to actually become my wife.’

* * *

Rigo watched as the colour drained from Nicole’s face. She wasn’t wearing a scrap of make-up, the dark waves of her hair were tied at the base of her neck, and yet she still looked effortlessly elegant. She was frowning at him, her brown eyes wide with shock.

Not the reaction he had expected.

‘You can’t be serious,’ Nicole whispered.

Rigo crossed his arms, looking down at her pale face. ‘That’s not what a man expects to hear when he has just proposed marriage.’

‘You haven’t proposed anything. You’ve just thrown another deal at me. One that I am not prepared to accept under any terms. I’d rather take the money and run.’

‘I assure you that I am completely serious. And this isn’t just about business—not now that I know I am a father.’ He almost stumbled over the simple word—a word he had never intended to label himself with. ‘Nicole, like it or not, you and I and Anna are now irrevocably linked together. I am simply suggesting that we make that link public and permanent so that we might solve all our problems at once.’

‘I can’t believe that you are actually prepared to marry me to save your precious business.’ She let out a single shocked burst of laughter.

‘This would be a legal union—a real wedding. What I’m proposing is a way to secure and protect both our interests. Now that I know I have a child, I will want to play a part in my daughter’s life.’

‘Would that still be the case if your precious shares weren’t decreasing?’

Rigo felt the barb hit him and instantly tensed. ‘I might not have planned this, Nicole, but I would never turn my back on my own flesh and blood.’

She lowered her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself in that defensive gesture she always seemed to use when she was around him.

Finally she cleared her throat and looked back up at him. ‘It is possible to co-parent without being married, you know.’

‘I was lucky enough to grow up with the love and support of both of my parents in one home. I had private schooling and medical care along with overall financial stability. Are you telling me that, given the choice, you wouldn’t want the same for Anna?’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘What is your alternative?’

Nicole looked down at the ground, biting on her lip. They both knew what her alternative was. Rigo knew after tracking her down that she didn’t own a home. She had already made a big move to a new country in the past year.

‘There is a lot more to parenting than money, Rigo. I may not know where my career is going right now, and I may have had to budget, but I am a good mother. I love my daughter more than anything on this earth.’

She swallowed hard and he caught a glimpse of moisture in her eyes before she blinked it away.

‘I wanted her from the moment I knew she was there. That’s more than I can say for you.’

Rigo had no argument for that. He was trying to convince her to do the best for their child when he had already done the worst thing a father could do by not being a part of her life. He had started this conversation as a means to an end—a way to solve a problem in the fastest and most efficient way possible. But suddenly he felt the weight of his proposal hit him.

He was proposing to acquire a whole family, not a company. The thought almost unnerved him, sending shivers down his spine.

Clearing his throat, he hastily continued, ‘If we marry she could have the best of both.’ He chose his words carefully. ‘Nicole, think of this logically. We have a child together and we both need this scandal gone as soon as possible. We need a long-term solution that puts Anna first.’

‘Stop with all the business jargon, for goodness’ sake.’

She walked away from him, and for a moment he feared she might walk out through the door. But he could tell by the way she glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she stared out the window that she was on the ropes. He was a skilled negotiator. He knew when to go in for the kill and when it was best to let his opponent have some breathing room.

He remained silent as she seemed to wage a battle within herself, her hands wringing together tightly. Eventually she turned back to him, her expression unconsciously giving away all her thoughts.

‘I’ve sacrificed everything to ensure my child has the best life I can give her. And now it will never be the same, no matter what choice I make.’

‘Then, you have everything to gain by marrying me.’ Rigo took two steps forward—just enough so that he could see her face clearly.

‘I can’t believe I am even considering this.’ She looked up at him, dropping her hands to her sides. ‘I don’t believe in these kinds of...nonmarriages. It’s absurd.’

‘Marriage is not a belief system, Nicole. It is a union between two people to protect mutual assets and interests. You told me to stop treating this like business, but that’s exactly what this would be.’

‘How can you be so cold and logical when you’re proposing to shackle yourself to a woman you have already made it clear you see as nothing but a gold-digger?’

‘Your past will be forgotten so long as you commit yourself to being a respectable partner for my public image.’ Rigo shrugged.

Nicole’s eyes widened. ‘How utterly romantic.’

‘If you imagined flowers and love letters, I’m afraid I won’t be that kind of husband.’

‘This is all very overwhelming, Rigo. Three days ago I was living a quiet, normal life. Now you are asking me to voluntarily put myself back into the media circus...’

‘You would have to deal with their judgement either way. Why not do it on your own terms for once? In this world our lives are just one big game to the public. Sometimes we are forced to choose whether to play or be played.’

CHAPTER THREE

NICOLE LOOKED UP at the man who was offering both to save her and ruin her all at the same time. What kind of woman would she be if she agreed to such a marriage? She knew exactly what kind she would be. One just like her mother.

Except her mother had never chosen her husbands based on the interests of her daughter. It had only ever been about money and magazine spreads. Nicole had simply been another instrument to use in her love affair with the media.

‘If I were to agree to this, I would want your word that Anna will never be a part of your public image. She will never be used for photo ops or anything of the sort.’

‘She will be protected. You have my word on that.’

Nicole nodded, swallowing the ever-growing lump forming in her throat. Her hands were trembling. The enormity of what she was agreeing to threatened to unravel what was left of her composure completely.

‘We can agree on the finer details in good time. For now, am I correct in assuming that you are accepting my proposal?’

Nicole took a deep breath. ‘Yes, I will marry you.’

Triumph gleamed in his eyes and he nodded his head once in approval. ‘Bene. I will call a meeting with my PR team and get the ball rolling.’

He held the door open for her before striding ahead out into the large bustling atrium of the top floor.

Nicole frowned. That was it? She had just agreed to marry him—surely they had more to discuss? Their living arrangements...the backstory for this ridiculous charade.

She followed quickly behind him, all the while feeling as though her head was no longer attached to her neck. She was doing the right thing, surely? This was the best course of action for her daughter. It didn’t matter that she was essentially selling her life to this man in return. It was a business arrangement. He would likely be gone most of the time and she would be free to carry on raising her daughter in peace.

‘Rigo—wait.’ She reached out, bringing them both to a stop. ‘I need to know what happens next. This is all very fast.’

‘I will take care of it. You just need to worry about playing your part.’

Nicole felt the coldness of his words right down to her toes. Unable to speak, she nodded her head, avoiding his eyes.

Rigo began tapping his phone. ‘I’ll have you both moved into my apartment immediately. You can give a list of the items you need from your old home to Alberto.’

‘We will be living together so soon?’ Nicole asked, dipping down to look in at Anna, where she still slept peacefully in her stroller.

‘We will need to get started on our united front right away. We will let the press know that we have nothing to hide.’ Rigo turned around, entering into a hushed conversation with his right-hand man and effectively cutting her off.

Nicole tried not to balk at his complete lack of interest in interacting with his daughter. She needed to curb her expectations here. There was no point in expecting anything close to normal from this arrangement. It was enough that Rigo had proposed marriage to protect their child. She wouldn’t dare to hope for anything more from him.

* * *

Rigo stayed as long as possible at the office before returning to his apartment. The ninth-floor penthouse in the sixteenth arrondissement had been his first purchase as CEO five years ago. It boasted a wide-open rooftop terrace and a sweeping view of the Bois du Boulogne. An ideal space for the little leisure time he took—the perfect blend of modern decor and 1930s vintage features to suit his taste. Although almost everything was made of hard edges and high gloss—not exactly the ideal place for a small child to roam about.

Listening for a moment, he was relieved to hear no noise coming from the bedrooms. Nicole and the child had been moved in early in the afternoon and he had purposely waited until well after dinner to return. He’d needed time to think, to process this monumental shift.

The living room held no signs of change at all. Everything lay just as he had left it that morning. It was a bachelor pad of the highest order, with a large black marble bar dominating one side of the dining area and a flat-screen television mounted in pride of place above the fireplace. Had it really only been fourteen hours since he had downed his coffee while watching the morning news? He had walked out through the door just as he had every other day, sure that he had everything in his life under control.

Nothing could have prepared him for those test results.

There had never been a single doubt in his mind that Nicole was chancing her arm at palming her pregnancy off on her richest conquest. Money-hungry admirers came with the territory when you were a Marchesi. He’d had enough experience of gold-diggers to last him a lifetime.

And now he was a father.

The thought hit him on the chest with heavy finality. He could sit there all night and brood, while getting painfully intoxicated, but that wouldn’t solve anything. It would only serve to leave him with a raging headache, and the issue of fatherhood would still be there in the morning.

He had long ago made a difficult choice, knowing that one day he would be able to reverse it if he so wished. But he had never once expected it to reverse itself. His doctor had assured him this afternoon that it was extremely rare. ‘Natural reversal’—that was what he’d called it. Rigo called it mutiny. He had become quietly accustomed to the idea of never having a child of his own. The decision to have a vasectomy had been both necessary and final.

What were the chances? The one night he had forgotten to use a condom... A night that he had never been able to forget...

Nicole Duvalle was the exact kind of woman he had spent the past ten years avoiding like the plague, and yet he had taken her to his bed without a second thought. That night he had thrown caution to the wind and taken what he wanted for once. For a brief moment in time he had believed that maybe he could be someone other than who he was. Being with her had unleashed a thirst inside him for something more than the rigid confines of his world. And then he had found out who she was and that thirst had disappeared with crushing finality.

She had been like a drug to his numbed senses. In a world of falseness she had seemed so real and pure. He had drowned in the intoxicating attraction that had burned between them, losing track of time. If his right-hand man hadn’t intervened and told him who she was...

He walked to the window, looking down at the inky darkness of the Bois du Boulogne. It didn’t matter what might have happened. It didn’t get much more complicated than this. He was engaged to marry a woman with a reputation murkier than most politicians. She had raised hell through the tabloids for most of her adult life and she was only twenty-five. Nicole swore that she was a changed woman and that she wanted nothing from him or the media. But he knew all too well how a woman could lie.

Feeling tiredness seep into his bones, he made the decision to choose his usual eight hours’ sleep over a night of wallowing in the past. He walked down the hall to his bedroom, pausing when he noticed the decidedly feminine articles of clothing draped across his bed sheets. The bathroom door opened and Nicole emerged, her hair wet from showering, covered by only a short bathrobe.

She jumped when she saw him, standing completely still in the doorway.

Rigo’s breath hitched. The scent of warm vanilla and honey was reaching across the room to tease his senses.

Nicole pulled the belt of her robe tighter around her small waist, the movement only serving to push her breasts out further against the thin fabric. Rigo clenched his fist by his side.

‘They put all my things in here with yours.’ She spoke quickly, avoiding his eyes. ‘Your housekeeper was very...excited.’

‘I see.’

Rigo briefly took in the two perfectly toned creamy thighs below the bathrobe and felt the tension in his muscles increase. His gaze must have given away some of his thoughts, because Nicole cleared her throat and quickly grabbed her clothing from the bed. Without another word, she slipped back into the bathroom to dress, closing the door behind her.

Rigo leaned back against the dresser, feeling his breath hiss out between his teeth. This was an unforeseen complication in an otherwise perfect plan. His staff was from the best agency in Paris, but nothing was truly confidential in his world. They were presenting the media with a whirlwind love story. It was expected that he should share a bed with his new fiancée. As any red-blooded man would.

He had thought that seeing her for who she was would effectively erase whatever it was that had drawn them together that night. Clearly his body had other ideas.

He undid the buckle of his belt, sliding it out from its loops and coiling it up into a tight spiral as he walked across the room. His walk-in dressing room was of the highest specifications, with personalised nooks and cabinets for every little detail. Organisation was his secret pleasure. Seeing everything perfectly lined up gave him a sense of calm.

He opened his belt drawer to find it only half filled with his own items. The second half contained an array of colourful scarves. Frowning, he opened the next cabinet, to find that completely rearranged, too. His housekeeper had clearly taken a shine to Nicole, he thought with an uncomfortable prickle of foreboding. If they were expected to share a bed, of course they would be expected to share closet space. He felt as if he had jumped head first into a rabbit hole and there was no going back.

He abandoned his dressing room with a scowl, returning into the main bedroom to find Nicole dressed in simple pale pink linen pyjama trousers and a white tank top. She was gathering her things into a small case, a frown marring her brow.

‘All your things have been put away in my dressing room.’

His voice came out harsher that he’d intended. Nicole looked at him incredulously.

‘Is that somehow my fault?’

Rigo raked his hand over the growth of hair on his jaw, his mind wrestling with the myriad implications he hadn’t foreseen. ‘We will need to share a bed until this wedding is over with,’ he gritted, removing his tie and folding it up on the antique dresser. ‘We can’t risk the staff spreading rumours.’

Nicole’s brow rose. ‘That’s not happening.’

‘What’s wrong? Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself?’

He watched as she bit hard on her lower lip, looking away from him. When she looked back he was surprised to find anger in her expression rather than embarrassment.

‘This isn’t what I agreed to, Rigo.’ She stared at him. ‘It’s not...appropriate for this arrangement.’

‘Believe me, I am not a threat to you. I’m counting down the days until this wedding is over just as much as you are.’

‘Well, then, why on earth would we need to sleep together? Surely you trust your own employees?’

‘I make it a rule not to trust anyone.’ He began to open the buttons at his neck, noticing how her eyes followed the movement. ‘We are supposed to be in a whirlwind love affair here. We will share a bed. End of discussion.’

‘It’s nice to see that I have some say in this arrangement.’

‘About as much of a say as I do, cara,’ he drawled. ‘Sleeping alongside each other is the least of our worries right now.’ He removed his shirt, folding it up before moving to unhook his trousers. He looked up to find Nicole watching him.

She cleared her throat as if to speak, but no sound came out. He almost smiled when she averted her eyes, sliding quickly under the covers and pulling them up to her chin. He might have won this round, but who was the real winner when the prize was a night of physical torture?

Rigo finished undressing, opting to leave his boxers on. He usually slept completely nude, but he decided that might be a step too far in this cosy little arrangement. He lay down, crossing his arms behind his head. Her breathing was slow and contained, but he could sense the tension coming off her in waves. They both felt it—the madness they were capable of unleashing if they let their guards down.

He was in for a long night.

* * *

It took a moment for Nicole’s mind to adjust when she awoke in Rigo’s bed the next morning. Holding her breath, she turned to find the other side of the bed empty. The sheets were still warm, so he hadn’t been gone long. Sleeping next to a wall of half-naked muscle had seemed an impossible task last night, but in the end she had slept soundly, having been so exhausted from the day’s events.

The apartment was quiet. Anna had woken once briefly for comfort in the night but had fallen back to sleep in the crib that Rigo had arranged to be transported from her home along with the rest of her things. While she still slept Nicole took her time to shower and apply light make-up, silently thanking the staff’s efficiency in having all of her belongings transferred from La Petite so quickly.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.