Their engagement is accidental.

Indulging their passion is deliberate...

Commanding tycoon Matias Silva is less long-term romance, more million-dollar business deals. Until his sweet childhood friend Georgie White anxiously confesses his family believes they’re engaged. Matias never does anything by halves—if they’re going to pretend, he’s all in. Whisking Georgie to his sprawling coastal mansion, he’ll ensure everyone believes their charade. But discovering Georgie’s true innocence suddenly makes their fake relationship feel unexpectedly—deliciously!—real...

Turn the page and begin this captivating fake engagement story!

CATHY WILLIAMS can remember reading Mills & Boon books as a teenager, and now that she’s writing them she remains an avid fan. For her, there is nothing like creating romantic stories and engaging plots, and each and every book is a new adventure. Cathy lives in London. Her three daughters—Charlotte, Olivia and Emma—have always been, and continue to be, the greatest inspirations in her life.

Also by Cathy Williams

The Secret Sanchez Heir

Bought to Wear the Billionaire’s Ring

Cipriani’s Innocent Captive

Legacy of His Revenge

A Deal for Her Innocence

A Diamond Deal with Her Boss

The Italian’s One Night-Consequence

The Tycoon’s Ultimate Conquest

Contracted for the Spaniard’s Heir

The Italian Titans miniseries

Wearing the De Angelis Ring

The Surprise De Angelis Baby

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Marriage Bargain with His Innocent

Cathy Williams

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08773-5

MARRIAGE BARGAIN WITH HIS INNOCENT

© 2019 Cathy Williams

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

GEORGINA LOOKED UP at the imposing Georgian mansion in front of which she was standing. Well, she would have expected nothing less.

She raised her hand to the doorbell. Her brain was saying Might as well get it over and done with while her feet were yelling Hang on just a minute...let’s think about this.

She went with the brain and pressed the buzzer before her feet could start winning the argument.

She was here now. She’d travelled hours to be here and she wasn’t going to slink away without telling the owner of this over-the-top mansion in Kensington—a man she had known since childhood, a man on whom she had had a very inconvenient crush when she’d been a kid of sixteen, that, Hey...guess what...? I bet you never thought that you and I would be in a relationship after all!

Matias had no idea who could be ringing his doorbell, but whoever it was deserved a Medal of Honour for the most timely interruption in history.

The icy blonde perched on his white leather sofa hadn’t stopped screaming for the past thirty-five minutes. She carried on screaming now, as she followed him out of the vast sitting room towards the front door.

‘I refuse to let you break up with me! I’ve told everyone that you’ll be coming to the anniversary party next weekend! I’ve bought a dress! There’s someone else, isn’t there? Who is she? Do I know her? How could you do this to me? I love you! I thought you loved me!’

Matias had stopped answering her questions ten minutes ago and he wasn’t going to start again now.

He pulled open the door and stopped short.

‘Matias.’ Georgina peered around him to the source of the high-pitched screaming. ‘I’m guessing I’ve come at a bad time?’

The feet were desperate to take to the hills, but she wasn’t quitting now that she was here. That said, she wanted to do nothing more than run away, because it didn’t matter how much she braced herself for Matias’s ridiculously stupendous good looks, every single time she saw him she was floored all over again.

Dry mouth, thudding heart, clogged brain...and a crashing reminder of what it had felt like to be an adolescent, with her hormones wildly out of control, in thrall to a guy who had never been short of his own personal fan club full of adoring hot babes from the age of thirteen. She’d kept her idiotic crush under wraps, but she could still burn with shame at the memory of it because she’d always been the last sort of girl he would ever have looked at.

‘Georgie, what the hell are you doing here?’

‘That’s not a very nice way to greet an old friend, is it? I’d rather not come back, Matias. I’ve spent hours on a train and I’m hot and tired and my feet need to rest.’ Or to take flight, she thought, willing her nerves to go away and thinking, yet again, how much she disliked the man. So stupidly sexy, and yet with a set of values that so got on her nerves.

‘Is my mother all right?’ Matias demanded.

‘Who are you?’

A blonde had materialised next to him and Georgina wondered whether Matias ever got bored of dating women who were clones of one another. Towering blondes with catwalk figures and a racy sense of fashion that was based on wearing as little as possible even in the depths of winter.

This particular blonde was wearing a tiny red mini-skirt and a tiny red top and some very high sandals because it was the height of summer.

‘Time for you to go, Ava.’

‘We could still make this work, Matias!’

Matias cast a sideways look at Georgina and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘No chance,’ he said grimly, rescuing her tiny tan designer bag from the table in the hall and handing it to her while channelling her towards the doorway. ‘You deserve better than me.’

Georgina rolled her eyes. She stood aside while the blonde walked past her, at least eight inches taller in her heels and as skinny as a runner bean.

‘That was considerate of you, Matias—softening the blow by telling her that she could do better than you,’ Georgina remarked, stepping inside the mansion and getting a glimpse of his departing back as he headed towards some other part of the house—probably the kitchen, because he looked as if he could use a stiff drink.

Charming, she thought, walking briskly behind him. What on earth did all those women see in him? Yes, he was rich. Yes, he was good-looking. But beyond that... There was nothing that appealed on any level. Which made it quite ironic, considering she was here to tell him that they had secretly been seeing one another, falling in love and getting embroiled in a hot and heavy relationship that was destined to lead...who knew where?

She felt queasy at the revelations about to be put on the table.

‘Well?’

Matias didn’t bother looking at her. He went straight to a cupboard, pulled out a bottle of whisky and poured himself a glass, offering her one as an afterthought, but obviously not really expecting her to take him up on the offer.

‘Your mother is fine. In a manner of speaking.’

‘I’ve had a hellish day, Georgie, so spare me the riddles. Not that it’s like you to beat about the bush. Bludgeon it into the ground is far more your style.’ He raised his eyebrows and didn’t look away when their eyes tangled. ‘I spoke to my mother two days ago and she sounded well, so what’s the matter with her?’

‘Nothing. Her health hasn’t deteriorated. I mean, she’s still weak after the stroke, and her speech isn’t quite back to normal, but she’s doing all the exercises the doctor recommended.’

‘Good.’

‘You have a wonderful house, Matias.’ She didn’t feel that the subject waiting to be broached could be broached quite yet. She needed to feel a bit more comfortable. Right now, her nerves were at breaking point. ‘And I will have that drink you offered, actually.’

‘Whisky?’

‘Wine, if you have any. Thank you.’

‘I’m warning you it’s not organic. It’s incredibly expensive, though, so please think twice about pouring it down the sink because it fails to meet your high standards.’

Matias strolled towards the fridge and withdrew a bottle of Chablis. He looked at her over his shoulder. She was dressed as she was always dressed, in some sort of flowery concoction that was designed to do absolutely nothing whatsoever for the female form. Long skirt, loose top... A veritable riot of colours, none of which flattered a woman who was small, round and had bright red hair.

Was it so hard to make an effort? he wondered.

‘Very funny, Matias.’

‘We both know how much you like to bang the drum for organic farming. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your social conscience.’

‘You can be really horrible, do you know that?’ she asked. But her voice was neutral, because she was busy looking round the spectacular kitchen with its shiny gadgets and space-age feel.

‘You’d miss it if I wasn’t,’ Matias murmured without batting an eye, and he held her gaze for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary before lowering his eyes, letting his lush dark lashes shield his expression. ‘What would you do with a nice, polite Matias?’

Georgina blushed—much to her annoyance—and glared. ‘I’ve spent hours travelling here to see you. The least you could do is to be nice to me.’

‘Yes, you have,’ Matias said thoughtfully, ‘and I’m wondering why. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m burning up with curiosity. I don’t think you’ve ever come to this house, have you?’

‘You know I haven’t.’

‘In fact, I didn’t think you ever got out of deepest, darkest Cornwall.’

‘You’ve always been so scathing about Cornwall! Don’t you have any loyalty to the place where you were brought up?’

‘No. So, moving on, Georgie...’ He circled her the way a shark might circle a minnow, slowly, thoroughly, and with keen, watchful interest. ‘If you’re not here to talk about my mother, then what exactly are you doing here? Not that your arrival wasn’t opportune.’

He sat on the chair facing her and tugged another chair towards him so that he could stretch out his long legs.

Georgina opened her voice to give him a piece of her mind. His mother despaired of him. His women came and went with barely a pause for breath in between, because Matias Silva had the attention span of a toddler in a candy shop when it came to women.

She caught the veiled amused expression in his dark eyes and abruptly shut her mouth. He wanted to get a rise out of her and that was the last thing she needed.

Instead, she met his gaze steadily and coolly. It took willpower, because he was, without doubt, the most drop-dead gorgeous man she had ever seen. Blessed with the exotic genes of his Argentinian father and the spectacular beauty of his English mother, Matias had emerged into the world with the sort of physical advantages that made people stare and then turn around for a second look, because surely no one could be quite so spectacular.

She had long ago forgiven herself for her girlish crush. She just wished that her disobedient eyes could stop drinking him in the way they were doing right now.

His features were chiselled to perfection, but his bronzed colouring and raven-dark hair, which he always kept slightly too long, rescued him from being just another good-looking guy.

‘I am here to talk to you about your mother,’ Georgina said into the lengthening silence. ‘But could I just unwind for a bit? I’m exhausted.’

‘It’s seven o’clock. Have you eaten?’

‘I had some sandwiches on the train.’

‘I’ll take you out to dinner.’

‘I doubt I’m dressed for the sort of restaurants you’re likely to patronise,’ Georgina said wryly.

‘How would you know what sort of restaurants I’d be likely to patronise?’ he asked.

But he was smiling crookedly at her, reminding her that beneath their obvious, glaring and insurmountable differences, there were times when they were eerily tuned in to one another. Longevity and history, she presumed.

‘Because I’m smart like that.’ She was beginning to feel overheated. ‘Thank you. It’s very nice of you. But...er...no, thank you. Why don’t you show me round your lovely house? I’d far rather that.’

The plan Georgina had sketched out had been a hurried one—a response to circumstances, formulated on impulse and put on the table before she’d had time to think through the details and, more to the point, the glaring, inescapable downsides. By the time she’d sat back and thought about it, it had been too late to take it all back.

Rose Silva believed that her son was finally on the verge of settling down, if not with the girl of his dreams, then certainly the girl of hers. She adored Georgina.

She finally had something to live for. She would have a daughter-in-law she loved. Her son would be settled, as he should be, with no more of his silly cavorting with women who weren’t suited to him at all. There would be grandchildren. All would be right in the world.

In the space of five minutes, Georgie’s suggestion of a relationship with Matias had turned into a full-blown when-shall-I-start-looking-for-a-hat? response. Georgie had squashed that enormous leap as firmly as she could, but here she was, supposedly having a serious relationship with the guy looking at her now with those fabulous dark, dark eyes.

What had begun as an ill-thought-out but well-intentioned little white lie had taken on a life of its own faster than a rocket soaring into space. An entire future had been planned before Georgina had had time to draw breath—and now here she was.

‘Please don’t say a word to Matias,’ she had begged Rose, horrified at the thought of a congratulatory phone call to a guy who would have no idea what his mother was going on about. ‘We...er...planned on breaking it to you together... Just that we’re going out, Rose... Who knows where that will lead...?’

The feeble utterances had actually brought her out in a cold sweat and prompted her immediate departure to London. As his newly acquired girlfriend, didn’t she need to know the layout of his house? She still felt queasy.

‘You want to see my house? Why?’

‘You’re so scornful whenever you come down to Cornwall... I want to see what you have here that’s so superior.’

Matias tilted his head to one side and looked at her carefully. ‘Why am I getting the feeling that something’s going on here that I don’t know about?’

‘You don’t have to show me around if you don’t want to.’

‘Bring your drink. Maybe after a bit of alcohol you’ll tell me exactly what’s going on, Georgie.’

‘Why are you so suspicious?’

‘Because I wasn’t born yesterday. I also know you. Some might say better than I’ve ever known any woman. You’re here for a reason, and if it’s not because my mother needs me to come down to Cornwall for health reasons, then you’re here for something else and you’re too scared to come right out and tell me. Is it money?’

On his way to the sitting room to begin the grand tour, Matias stopped abruptly and looked at Georgina through narrowed eyes. He positioned himself so close to her that she could pick up the faint whiff of whatever expensive aftershave he wore. She automatically edged back.

‘You think I’m here to...to ask you for money? And you claim to know me?’

‘It’s not that far-fetched.’ Matias shrugged. ‘You’d be surprised how many people come crawling out of the woodwork to ask for money when they find out that I’m in a position to bestow it upon them.’

‘Why would I have to ask you for money, Matias? I have a job! I’m a food photographer! By your lofty standards it may not pay much, but it’s more than enough for me to live on! So why on earth would I have to come to you for a loan?’

‘No idea. Who knows what sort of financial trouble you might have got yourself into?’

He spun round and Georgina stared at him with outrage. No one had ever been able to rile her as much as Matias Silva. Or challenge her. Or generally send her nervous system into frantic overdrive. He was right. They knew one another—whether she cared to admit it or not.

From the side-lines she had watched the way he had turned into a forbidding and coolly remote adolescent after he had won a scholarship to a boarding school in Winchester. All pretence of having any interest in his parents’ organic farm had been dumped. Ambition had become his constant companion.

It was little wonder that he was now wondering whether she had shown up on his doorstep out of the blue because she needed a hand-out. For Matias, money was the only thing that made any sense. He’d never had much growing up, and he’d made it his life’s work to compensate for the lack.

Was it any wonder that they rubbed one another up the wrong way when they were as different as chalk and cheese? She was argumentative. He was intransigent. She was uninterested in money. Money was all he cared about. She loved where she lived. He hadn’t been able to wait to escape from it. She admired his parents. He privately scorned them.

‘Well? Spit it out, Georgie. Do you need a loan?’

He looked her up and down, head inclined to one side, his dark eyes coolly speculative. She didn’t think there was a man alive who got on her nerves more.

‘Have you been living beyond your means?’ he murmured with exaggerated interest. ‘Nothing to be ashamed of. Oh, wait... I can see why you might be ashamed, bearing in mind your holier-than-thou outlook on life which you’ve spent the past ten years droning on about.’

Georgina gritted her teeth and balled her hands into fists. ‘I’m not here to ask you for money, Matias.’

‘Didn’t think you were.’ He moved off to begin their tour, pushing open doors without bothering to explain which room was used for what.

‘Why’s that?’ she asked.

All white. Minimalist. Big, expensive abstract art on the walls. A lot of chrome. The best money could buy. Again, no surprise there. Matias had gone to university a year early, studied Maths and Economics, and left with a job at an investment bank in his hand. Within five years he had made his first million and then he had started flying solo, buying up sick companies and turning them around. He’d invested in property on the side. By thirty he’d had an empire under his belt and more money than anyone could use in a lifetime. Every room she glimpsed bore witness to how rich he was.

No wonder Rose was intimidated by her billionaire only child.

‘He’s always been something of a genius,’ she’d once confided wistfully. ‘That’s why he’s never liked the simple life. It isn’t enough for him.’

‘Georgie,’ Matias was saying now, ‘it doesn’t take a genius, looking at you, to realise that you have no interest in anything that could possibly get someone into debt.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘You’re not the typical picture of someone leading a raunchy life beyond her means. If you have a predilection for designer clothes, fast cars and jewellery then you’re doing a damn good job of keeping it under wraps. Besides...I remember you showing me your piggy bank when you a kid. You were very proud of the eight pounds sixty you’d managed to stockpile over six weeks. It would beggar belief that you’d go from parsimonious and proud saver to wildly extravagant spender. Now, do you want the tour to carry on upstairs?’

He looked at her and she wondered whether he realised just how offensive he could be.

‘Or have you relaxed sufficiently to tell me why you’re here? You may have had sandwiches on the train, but I’m hungry. I’ll get some food delivered. Let me know if you want to see the rest of the house and I’ll order when the tour is done.’

‘No—no need to go upstairs.’

She thought bedrooms and backed away from the thought fast. Despite loathing the man, it had always been way too easy to associate him with bedrooms—partly because he was so sexy, and partly because, even though time had moved on from that girlish infatuation, age had failed to completely extinguish the remnants of her crush. She still occasionally caught herself daydreaming about him. Fortunately she’d learnt how to avoid getting too embroiled in that kind of pointless fantasy.

‘Good.’ He headed back towards the kitchen, phoning for food on the way. ‘Where were you planning on spending the night?’

He looked at the battered khaki backpack which she had dumped on the ground in the kitchen.

‘B&B.’

Matias frowned. ‘That’s ridiculous,’ he said shortly. ‘Didn’t you consider staying here? Don’t you think I’m not appreciative for everything you do for my mother and have done over the years? A night in my house is the least I could offer in return.’

Georgina flushed. ‘I shouldn’t be the one doing stuff for your mother, though, should I?’ she muttered, fidgeting.

‘When it comes to that old chestnut—been there, done that. I’ve heard every variation of criticism from you over the years, so let’s drop the topic and move on.’

Matias felt a flash of guilt dart through him like quicksilver. He had no reason to feel guilty. None at all. He supported his mother financially, made sure she wanted for nothing. It took hard work to make the sort of money that he did, and without his money life would not be nearly so rosy for his mother. When things went wrong in her house he made sure to replace them with top-of-the-range equivalents. Over time, her kitchen had been so expensively kitted out that any professional chef would have been happy to ply his trade there. And as for the farm...

The organic farm she’d insisted on hanging on to brought in peanuts and she couldn’t have begun to handle it without his help. He made sure that everyone who worked there reported to him—just as he made sure that any headaches were sorted before they became full-blown.

And organic farming—as he had discovered years ago—was nothing but one long, grinding headache. Crops had a nasty habit of falling victim to the wrong type of insect. The chickens, which had made a brief and optimistic appearance for a year and a half, had fallen prey to foxes or else wandered off hither and thither to lay eggs that couldn’t be located and therefore never made it to the shelves at the local greengrocer.

Although, in fairness, it was better than the Reiki treatment, the donkey sanctuary, the creative workshops and the gem-selling crackpot ideas that had preceded the farm when he’d been a kid.

So guilt? No, he had nothing to feel guilty about. He and his mother might not be close, but how many relationships between children and their parents were trouble-free? He was a responsible and dutiful son, and if his mother thought that he came up short in the personal stakes then he could live with that.

He shook his head free of inconvenient introspection and surfaced to find Georgie apologising.

‘Sorry?’ His eyebrows shot up. ‘You’re sorry about criticising?’ He grinned. ‘Now I’m really getting worried. Since when have you ever made apologies for getting under my skin?’

He watched as she noticeably didn’t answer but instead devoted her attention to inspecting the rooms they had previously walked past.

Just when he was about to break the ever-lengthening silence the doorbell went. When Matias returned, it was with a spread of food from a top London restaurant.

‘I’ve ordered enough for two,’ he said, dumping the lot on the table and hunting down two plates and some cutlery. He poured them both wine and sat facing her.

‘Most people have Indian or Chinese take-out,’ Georgina remarked.

She shouldn’t eat. She had had those sandwiches and she could do with shedding a few pounds. But her mouth watered at the sight of fluffy white rice, beef in wine, vegetables...

‘Dig in,’ Matias encouraged drily. ‘But save room for the chocolate fondant.’

‘My favourite.’

‘I know. I recall going to that restaurant by the sea years ago, with my parents and your family, and you made them bring you three. Eat—and tell me exactly what you’re doing here. I’m bored with going round the houses.’

‘It’s about your mother, but not about her health as such. Like I said, she’s doing as well as can be expected, and I know you’ve paid for the best consultants, the best hospital, the best of everything... But health isn’t just a physical thing. It’s also a frame of mind, and your mum’s been depressed for quite a while.’

‘Depressed?’ Matias frowned. ‘Why would she be depressed when she’s on the mend? She didn’t sound depressed when I spoke to her last.’

‘She wouldn’t have wanted to worry you, Matias,’ Georgina said impatiently. ‘She’s been making noises about her mortality. She’s waiting for some test results—perhaps that’s been preying on her mind—but she could be in a mental slump.’

‘Test results? What test results? At any rate, they can’t be important or the consultant would have mentioned them to me. And thoughts of her mortality? She’s not even in her mid-sixties!’

He relaxed. If this was a simple case of hypochondria then an informal chat with her consultant would soon make her see sense. She was on the road to recovery. Mortality thoughts were only appropriate for people in their eighties and nineties, anyway.

He had a couple of big deals on the go, but as soon as he was through with those he would go down to Cornwall. He might even consider staying longer than a weekend. It could work... He had had the fastest possible broadband installed in his mother’s house years previously, because he couldn’t function without the Internet. In short, he could spare a little time down there without it affecting his work schedule.

‘She’s got another thirty years in her,’ he said, noting that for someone who had refused the offer of a meal out Georgie had certainly done justice to the food on her plate. No one could ever accuse Georgina White of having a feeble appetite. It was a refreshing change, in actual fact.

‘She doesn’t see it that way.’

‘She doesn’t have a medical background. The consultant has no worries about her health or I would know about it. That’s what he’s paid to do—keep me in the loop. It’s just a question of convincing her of that. If she’s concerned that there’s a risk of this thing happening again, then I can get Chivers to show her the charts and scans.’

‘It’s not just a question of that, Matias. She feels...’ Georgina sighed and gazed at him, then wished she hadn’t because she couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away. He was so ridiculously good-looking. ‘She feels that she’s been a failure as a mother. She feels that there’s a chasm between you two and it’s one that will never be breached. All she wants, she tells me, is for you to settle down...have a wife and kids. She tells me that she’s always wanted to be a grandmother and that she feels there’s nothing to look forward to. When I say that she’s depressed, it isn’t because she thinks she might be pushing up the daisies in six months’ time. It’s because she’s been looking back on her past and questioning where she is right now—in the present. I’ve had a word with Mr Chivers... I hope you don’t mind.’

‘It wouldn’t make any difference if I said I did, would it? Considering you’ve already contacted him.’

Matias scowled. The guilt was back and with a vengeance. It seemed it had been buried in a very shallow grave. His mother had never been impressed with his lifestyle or his money. Nor had his father, when he had been alive. Neither had ever said anything, but their silence on the subject had spoken volumes.

‘What did he say?’

‘He says that under normal circumstances he wouldn’t be worried. Rose is young. But because of her anxieties, and the subsequent stress, there’s a chance that her health might be jeopardised. She’s lost interest in all the things that used to occupy her. She doesn’t seem to care about the farm any more. She’s not going to the gardening club. Like I said, she’s talking about having nothing to live for.’

‘You could have just called to fill me in on all this. Leave it with me. I’ll have a word with Chivers. I’m paying the man a small fortune. He should be able to do something. There might be a course of medication my mother could go on...there are tablets for that sort of thing.’

‘Forget it. It won’t work,’ Georgina told him bluntly.

Matias frowned, his brooding dark eyes betraying the puzzlement of someone trying to join dots that weren’t quite forming a pattern.

‘Then what will?’ he asked, with an elaborate show of patience that got on her nerves.

‘You’ll probably need something stiffer than a glass of expensive white wine before I tell you my solution.’

‘Spit it out. I can’t bear the suspense.’

‘I may have told her a couple of tiny white lies...’ Georgina stuck out her chin at a pugnacious angle—an angle that said that she was a woman about to dig her heels in and was ready for a fight if he wanted to have one.

Now that they were getting to the heart of the matter, her nerves were kicking in big time.

‘You may have told her a couple of tiny white lies...? Now, why does that admission send a shiver of apprehension racing down my spine?’

‘I love your mother. I’ve always been close to her, as you well know, and more especially now, since my parents decamped to Melbourne for my dad’s three-year secondment to the university there. I’ve been with her throughout this awful business, and you can trust me when I tell you that her spirits are sinking lower and lower by the day. Who knows what could happen?’

‘Yes, I’m getting the picture. You’ve known my mother since the dawn of time and you’re worried about her, despite hard evidence from the experts that everything’s ticking along nicely. So, Georgie, just say what you have to say—because my apprehension is still there. Why don’t we dump this meandering, getting-nowhere-fast route and stick to the main road? In fact, why don’t we just return to those little white lies of yours?’

‘Okay, Matias... I may have encouraged your mother to feel that she has every right to look forward to the future...’

‘Bracing advice.’

‘Because you’re involved with someone, and happily it’s not one of those women your mother disapproves of.’

‘The more I hear, the more I ask myself whether you and my mother have any topic of conversation aside from me.’

‘We never talk about you!’ Georgina snapped, momentarily distracted by the sheer egotism of the man. ‘It’s only because of the situation that she’s taken to confiding in me... Naturally I’m not going to tell her to keep her worries and fears to herself... Trust me when I tell you that I don’t encourage her to talk about you!’

‘Let’s leave that to one side for the while. So, I’m involved with someone my mother approves of? I suppose, as fairy stories go, that one could work—provided I’m not called upon to introduce this paragon to her. Because if I am, then it’s going to take a lot more than creative spin to cover up the cracks in your plan.’

‘Well, you see, this is where it may be less difficult than you imagine...’

She cleared her throat. She couldn’t carry on—especially when he was staring at her narrowly, his clever brain whirring away to make sense of what she’d just said. She inhaled deeply and reminded herself that this was why she was here—this was why she had made this inconvenient trip to London to see a man who had always managed to rub her up the wrong way.

She was here to do a job, so to speak.

Yes, she had acted on impulse—but impulse was not a dangerous thing because it was a good thing. All she had to do was look ahead to the good that could come out of it. And not be deterred by those bitter-chocolate-dark eyes staring at her with off-putting intensity.

‘I’m all ears.’

‘I’ve told your mother that you and I are an item,’ she said in a challenging voice.

It came out in a rush and left behind a silence that was thick and dense and so uncomfortable that she could only stare down at her sandals while wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

Oh, how different the whole thing had seemed when she had told Rose. She had watched how the older woman’s thin face had lit up. Rose had actually clapped her hands with delight, and Georgina had had a wonderful moment of basking in the warm glow of having made someone she loved very happy.

Before common sense had set in. By which time it had been too late to retract what she had said and the warm glow had been replaced by an icy, clammy dread.

Right now, right here, she wondered what had possessed her. How on earth could she have thought that this might be a good idea? She had travelled up to London prepared to stand her ground and fight her corner, but she had forgotten how intimidating Matias could be.

Why had impulse galloped ahead of common sense?

‘Sorry?’ Matias inclined his head with an expression of rampant disbelief. ‘I think I may have misheard what you just said...’

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU HAVEN’T,’ GEORGINA said flatly.

‘Okay. So let me run this past you and you can tell me if I’ve got anything wrong. My mother is feeling a bit low...’

‘With all the signs of depression...’

‘Which could probably be taken care of with a course of tablets, because—believe it or not—tablets do exist for conditions like depression. But you’ve unilaterally, and without bothering to consult me, decided to rule that practical solution out.’

‘You’re making it sound so black and white and it’s not. Which is something you would see if you were around a little more often!’

‘Let’s leave the criticisms to one side for the time being, Georgie. In a nutshell, my mother is down, wishes she could hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet, and to oblige her and raise her spirits you’ve decided to tell her a whopper about you and I being involved.’

‘You should have seen the expression on her face, Matias. She hasn’t looked so overjoyed in... Well, I would say years. Not since your dad died. Even before the stroke!’

Matias looked anything but overjoyed. His expression was a mixture of outraged incredulity and simmering anger. Of course she hadn’t expected immediate capitulation, because that would have been too good to be true, but she saw she was going to have to use all her powers of persuasion. She couldn’t bear the thought of his mother fading away into a chronic depression.

Even after Antonio’s death Rose hadn’t sunk into the sort of dull-eyed, low-level despair Georgina had begun to notice in her recently. The fact that tests were still ongoing was simply feeding into her acceptance that the road she was travelling was heading sharply downwards. She was ill, she was down, and nothing was ever going to change.

Until now Georgie hadn’t really appreciated just how much of a surrogate mother Rose had become for her. Her own mother, whom she loved dearly, was worlds apart from her, wrapped up in academia—a world with which Georgina was unfamiliar. She had never got her intellect going, never been able to follow in her parents’ intellectual footsteps. Her father lectured in economics, her mother in international law.

She, on the other hand, even from a young age, had been a lot happier being creative. It was to her parents’ credit that they had never tried to push her towards a career she would have had no hope of achieving, and while they had busied themselves with university stuff Georgina, growing up, had drifted off to Matias’s house, bonded with his parents and adored their wacky creativity.

She loved his mother, and that thought put a bit of much-needed steel in her weakening resolve.

‘If I didn’t know better,’ Matias said, ‘I would be inclined to think that you’ve finally cracked. And here’s a little question, Georgie—why would my mother believe that you and I are an item? Every time we meet we end up arguing. I don’t like women who argue. My mother knows that. For God’s sake, she’s met enough of the women I’ve dated in the past to know that chalk and cheese just about sums it up when it comes to you and the kind of women I’m attracted to!’

Every word that left his beautiful mouth was a direct hit, but Georgina refused to let him get to her. However, she was distracted enough to ask, with dripping sarcasm, ‘So...you don’t like women who argue? Or do you mean you don’t like women who happen to have an opinion that doesn’t concur with yours? In other words, does your attraction to the opposite sex begin and end with towering blondes whose entire vocabulary is comprised of one word...yes?’

Matias folded his arms and burst out laughing. ‘Now you’re making me sound shallow,’ he drawled. ‘But, just for the record, I’ve never had a problem with towering blondes with single-syllable vocabularies. When you live life in the fast lane the last thing you want is a sniping nag reminding you that you’re back five minutes late and asking where’s the milk you were supposed to buy.’

‘I doubt you’ve ever done anything as mundane as buy a pint of milk, Matias.’

‘Not recently, I haven’t. Not since I was a kid, running errands down to that woefully badly stocked corner shop next to Bertie’s place. Of course there was only the occasional need for milk to be bought,’ he continued, his voice hardening, ‘after my parents decided to try their hand with a pet cow. But back on point, here. If my mother has bought this story of yours then she’s suffering from more than just mild depression. I mean...when exactly are we supposed to be conducting this raunchy, clandestine relationship that’s only now come to light?’

This was the longest one-to-one conversation they had had in a while, and Georgina was mesmerised by his dark, compelling beauty. She was noticing all sorts of details that had only before registered vaguely on her subconscious.

Like the depths of silvery grey in his eyes—at times as icy as the frozen Arctic wastes, at times almost black and smouldering. Like the sensual curve of his mouth and the aquiline perfection of his lean features. Not to mention the dramatic lushness of those black lashes that were so good at shielding what he didn’t want the world to see. He oozed an unfair amount of sinful sex appeal, and the longer she looked at him the more addled her brain became and the faster she lost track of what she wanted to say.

As if from those faraway days when she had dreamily fantasised about a relationship that had never stood a chance of materialising, the impact he’d always had on her came rushing back, as though no time had intervened...as though she’d never seen first-hand the type of women he enjoyed and the type he definitely didn’t. In short—her.

She dragged her disobedient eyes away and focused on a point just past his right shoulder. ‘I’m close to your mother, but she doesn’t know my every movement, Matias. I told her that we’d been meeting in secret for the past few months but didn’t want to bring it out into the open because it was still quite new...’

‘Ingenious. But now that’s all changed because we’ve...what? Had an epiphany? Fill in the blanks here, would you?’

‘I just said that it was...you know...in the early stages but definitely serious...’

‘And I’m guessing that you skirted over the details because you trusted that old adage that people will always believe what they want to believe?’

Georgina blushed. Her green eyes flashed defiance, but she was finding it hard to win him over, and with a sinking heart she knew that he wasn’t going to jump on board with this. She would have to return to the village with her tail between her legs and break the news that their so-called serious relationship had crashed and burned.

So much for impulse being a good thing. So much for the ends justifying the means.

‘Not going to happen, Georgie,’ Matias delivered with finality. ‘It was a ludicrous idea and, whilst I appreciate that you lied for the best of reasons, I’m not going to sucked into giving credence to your little charade.’

Defeated, Georgina could only look at him in silence. She tucked her hair behind her ear and sat on her hands, leaning forward, her body rigid with tension.

‘Furthermore, I dislike the fact that you saw fit to drag me into this poorly thought out scheme of yours. Did it never occur to you that I might have a life planned out that doesn’t include a phoney relationship with you to appease my mother?’

‘No,’ Georgina said with genuine honesty, because at the time there had been one thing and one thing only on her mind, and that had been the fastest way to bring Rose back from whatever dark place she was getting lost in.

‘Well, perhaps it should have.’

‘I just thought—’

‘Georgie,’ Matias interrupted heavily, standing up to indicate that the conversation was at an end, ‘you’ve always been like my parents. Warm-hearted, but essentially lacking in that practical gene which can sometimes appear harsh but which is the one that makes sense at the end of the day. Now, do you want some fondant?’

‘I’ve lost my appetite. And if by practical you mean hard as nails and cold as ice, then I’m very glad that I was born without that particular gene.’ She stood up as well. ‘You may pride yourself, Matias Silva, on seeing the world from your practical point of view, but that doesn’t necessarily make you a happy guy, does it? Yes, it might make you a wealthy one, but there’s a great big world out here that is rich and rewarding and has nothing to do with how much money you have in your bank account.’

‘We’ll agree to differ on that one.’

Georgina swerved past him and strode, head held high, towards the front door.

‘For God’s sake, Georgie, you can still stay the night in my house.’

‘I’d rather not, as it happens.’

‘Well, where’s the B&B?’

‘Somewhere in west London—but I’m happy to make my own way there.’

‘Just give me the address and I’ll get my driver to drop you. It’ll be a damn sight more comfortable than trekking on the Underground or trying to work out which bus goes where.’

He didn’t give her time to object. He flipped his cell phone out of his pocket and positioned himself in front of the door so that she couldn’t run away.

Matias had said what he’d wanted to say but he still felt guilty. He knew that she would see his lack of co-operation in her hare-brained scheme as a lack of concern for his mother. Nothing could be further from the truth. He had never had much in common with his parents—had always seen their idealistic, holistic, hippy approach to life as charming but irresponsible—but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t loved them in his own way.

His biggest regret was the fact that he hadn’t been able to make it back for his father’s funeral. He’d been abroad, and it had all happened so damned fast. The flight connections to get him back to Cornwall had not been quick enough. He’d been too late. He’d never had the chance to fix the relationship he’d had with his father—a relationship that had been broken over a period of years as Matias had become ever more distant from his tree-hugging parents, whose ideologies he had never been able to grasp.

He’d failed as a son and, even though he’d spent his adult life trying to make up for it, by assiduously making sure his mother was taken care of, Matias knew that there was a yawning chasm between them for which the small, round, feisty copper-haired woman in front of him had judged and sentenced him a long time ago.

But as far as Matias was concerned involving him in something like this without first consulting him just wasn’t on.

‘My driver will be here in five minutes.’ He looked at her and she squirmed resentfully under his piercing gaze. ‘What will you tell my mother?’

‘Do you care? Maybe I’ll tell her that I showed up here and sadly found you in bed with a blonde.’

She sighed. She had no one but herself to blame for the mess she found herself in. Matias had every right to refuse to go along with her. He had his jam-packed life to lead, after all.

‘I won’t say that.’

‘I didn’t think you would.’

‘Because I’m so predictable?’

‘Because you’re not the sort.’ He paused. ‘I will come down to Cornwall,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Maybe next weekend, and I’ll stay for a little longer than I usually do.’

‘I’ll make sure to keep out of your way,’ Georgina inserted politely. ‘It might make for fireworks if we’re supposed to be in the throes of a hostile break-up.’

Matias looked at her and reluctantly grinned. ‘Tell me why you’ve always been able to make me laugh even though we fight like cat and dog? No, scrap that. You’ll probably end up fighting with me again. What story will you spin for my mother when you break the disappointing news that we’re no longer a hot item?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll think of something.’

‘This was your idea,’ Matias mused, ‘but I’ll shoulder the blame for the break-up of a relationship that never was. It’ll be far more believable that I’m the baddie in this scenario anyway. I won’t be letting my mother down too much.’

He saw the flash of curiosity in her eyes and sidestepped it adroitly.

‘Fair’s fair, after all. Now... Safe trip back, Georgie.’ He hesitated. What else was there to say?

Georgina didn’t hang around. His chauffeur-driven Mercedes was waiting by the pavement, engine idling, and she didn’t look back as she ducked into the back seat.

Mission Impossible had turned into Mission She Must Have Been Crazy. She consoled herself all way to the bed and breakfast by telling herself that she had done her best and there was nothing more she could have done.

The bed and breakfast was not in the most salubrious of locations, but it was reasonably priced and it was clean. Her room was so small that everything seemed to be squeezed in, with only just enough free space to allow passage from bed to bathroom without minor injuries occurring en route.

She had a shower and stuck on the little tee shirt and skimpy shorts she always wore to sleep. At night, in the darkness of the bedroom...that was the time she felt most self-confident about her body.

She could have been married by now. She could have had a child! It was bizarre to think it, but it was true. Lying there in the dark, something about seeing Matias’s dark, beautiful face brought to mind thoughts of Robbie and the marriage that had never been.

They were memories that she kept locked away in her head, but now, like imps released from captivity, they stretched and decided to have a little fun at her expense. Memories of being engaged, planning her big day, only to be told a handful of weeks before they were due to tie the knot that he just couldn’t go through with it.

‘It’s not you!’ he had declared magnanimously, in what had to be the most over-used craven expression in any break-up. ‘It’s me. I just don’t feel the same way about you that I used to... I don’t understand it...’

They had parted ways and she had had to endure months of sensing the whispered pity behind her back every time she entered a room.

Robbie had stopped being attracted to her. Had he ever been attracted to her? Maybe not. Maybe he had been carried along on a tide of wanting to please her parents, because he had been her mother’s star pupil.

In her darkest, deepest thoughts she had sometimes wondered whether a part of her hadn’t simply been drawn to a guy who was diametrically different from Matias—a guy on whom she could pin all her hopes, finally snuffing out that silly, girlish flame that had continued to burn long after she should have grown out of it.

She cringed when she’d remembered the way Robbie had tried to encourage her to lose a bit of weight. Afterwards, when the dust had settled, she had discovered that he had met and married someone else in record time. Someone long and thin. Ever since then Georgina had made even more of an effort to conceal the body that had let her down.

Yes, it was silly—and, yes, it was nonsensical. But since when did feelings make sense?

She drifted into a restless sleep and had no idea how long she had been asleep when she heard a knocking on her door.

She surfaced, feeling drugged and disorientated. It didn’t occur to her to be careful when she tentatively pulled the door open because the bed and breakfast was securely locked against intruders. Which meant that the owner, a lovely woman in her fifties, could be the only person knocking.

And it wasn’t that late. Only a little after eleven. But she had been so shattered after her pointless visit to Matias that she had climbed into bed and fallen asleep almost immediately.

Her eyes started at the bottom. Loafers—expensive ones. Black jeans—low-slung. Black close-fitting jumper. Muscular body.

Georgina knew that it was Matias before her eyes collided with his silver dark gaze.

‘Let me in, Georgie.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘We need to talk.’

‘How did you get in? Who let you in?’ She peered angrily past him in search of the culprit. ‘Whoever let you in had no right to do so!’

‘She sensed I wasn’t going to steal the family heirlooms. Let me in.’

‘Do you know what time it is?’

‘Not bedtime on a Saturday evening for most people under the age of forty-five. And time for me to tell you that there’s been a slight change of plan.’

Matias raked his fingers through his hair and shot her a look of brooding unease.

‘Whatever you have to say will have to wait until morning.’ Her heart beating like a sledgehammer, and feeling acutely aware of her lack of clothing, Georgina made to shut the door. In response Matias neatly wedged his foot in the open gap before he could be locked out.

‘I realise this is not the most convenient place in the world for a conversation, but what I have to say can’t wait. My mother called.’

Georgina hesitated. With a sigh, she reluctantly opened the door, then told him to sit at the dressing table so that she could at least get dressed.

She knew the sort he went for. Tall, leggy blondes who weighed next to nothing. She knew that what she had on was no more revealing than what most girls would wear to the park on a hot day. But she still had to swallow down a sickening feeling of self-consciousness as she scuttled into the bathroom clutching jeans and a tee shirt.

She’d disappeared in under ten seconds. But that was all it had taken for Matias to realise that the body she had always been at pains to keep hidden away was voluptuous, with curves in all the right places, and a derriere as round and as perfect as a peach. She wasn’t overweight. She was sexy.

His libido, which had been sadly tepid during the last few weeks of his tempestuous relationship with Ava, roared into shocking life, forcing him to conceal a prominent bulge by sitting on a stool by the window.

‘You were saying...?’ Georgina asked bluntly, when she reappeared in a more acceptable jeans and tee shirt outfit.

She made sure the overhead light was on its brightest setting, so that the room was now as brightly lit as the changing room in a department store. She perched on the edge of the bed, because there were no other available chairs, and rested her hands on her lap.

‘You should have dumped your pride and stayed at my place. It’s ridiculous what some people call a B&B in London. There’s not enough room here to swing a cat.’ It was proving impossible for him to get into a comfortable position.

‘The owner is lovely. It’s cheap. It’s clean. And I’m not being ripped off. What did your mother have to say?’

‘First of all, I was caught off-guard. It was late, and my mother seldom calls me.’

‘That’s because she doesn’t like to think that she might be disturbing you.’

‘More conversations about me, Georgie? Before I could break the disappointing news that we’d decided to call it a day, she launched into a long, excitable congratulatory speech and told me that it was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time. She said that she was under strict instructions not to call me, to wait until we both came down to Cornwall, but she knew that you’d headed to London and couldn’t contain herself. Said she felt she finally had something worth living for...’

‘Didn’t you believe me when I told you that?’

‘Hearing it from the horse’s mouth made a difference.’

He stood up, strolled to the window, peered out at an uninspiring view of the back of the building, where tall plastic bins were arranged like soldiers against the wall.

He slowly spun round to look at her, half sat on the broad window ledge. ‘You were right. She’s the happiest I’ve heard her in a long time. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.’

‘So,’ Georgina said slowly, ‘what you’re saying is that you didn’t tell her that it’s off...?’

‘How could I?’

‘That’s a bit of a problem, then, isn’t it? Considering you told me in no uncertain terms that you weren’t going to pretend anything for the sake of your mother.’

Matias flushed darkly. ‘Don’t think that I approve of the way you auditioned me for a role I hadn’t applied for,’ he reminded her abruptly. ‘But here we are. I didn’t have the heart to break the bad news down the phone so we’ll play this game—but the way I see it this will be a temporary situation. It beggars belief that my mother has fallen for your outrageously improbable scenario, but if it’s aiding her recovery then it’s something I will have to accept.’

Georgina didn’t say anything. She had thought so far and no further when it came to this charade. Now a shiver of unease rippled through her and she looked at Matias from under lowered lashes.

He was the king of urban, sophisticated cool and he was supposed to be going out with her. She, too, marvelled that his mother hadn’t fainted with disbelief at the improbable scenario.

They were supposed to be an item. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Lovers...

Her stomach lurched, because her imagination threatened to veer off in all sorts of uncharted directions.

‘So...’ Matias picked up the thread of the conversation. His voice was clipped and businesslike, ‘I’m here to briefly discuss the mechanics of this situation. What have you told my mother about us? How much winging it have you done?’

‘Can’t we discuss this another time?’ she replied vaguely.

‘Another time?’

‘Next week? On the phone, perhaps?’

‘Are you living in the real world, Georgie? My mother thinks we’re going out with one another in some happy-against-all-odds scenario and you want to discuss the details of our so-called relationship on the phone next week? Maybe?’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying,’ Matias imparted coolly, ‘that we’ll both be leaving for Cornwall in the morning. My mother is expecting us. When we get there, having our stories match up might be an idea.’

‘You say that you see this as a temporary situation...do you have a timeline in sight?’

Georgina regretted every second of whatever crazy impulse had plunged her into this mess. It had been a lot easier dealing with a fictional situation. Even when she had boarded that train to London she had not really thought about facing Matias in the flesh. He’d been much easier to deal with in her head. Less intimidating, less forbidding, pretty much less...everything.

‘I have—and it’s not a long one. We go down...we indulge in this charade for a few days... Sooner rather than later things can begin to go downhill. I’m happy to carry the can for the inevitable. There are too many differences between us... It’s only become apparent now that we’re spending a lot of undiluted time with one another... Put it this way: I can spare a couple of weeks and then I have meetings in the Far East. It would be preferable if all this is sorted before I go.’

‘A couple of weeks...’ She felt as though she’d hopped on a rollercoaster only to find that it was spinning a lot faster than she’d anticipated.

‘I don’t see a problem with that.’

‘But your mother might be down in the dumps again at the rapid demise of our relationship.’

‘Which is something you should have considered before you had your light bulb moment. We could hash all this out on the drive down tomorrow, but I think it better if we cover the basics now. I’m going to have to work for the majority of the trip, bearing in mind I’ll be leaving the office without warning.’

‘You’re going to work while you drive?’

‘Of course not, Georgie! My driver will take us and I’ll work in the back. You can bring a book, or some knitting, or whatever you need to occupy your time. We can fine-tune our stories just before we reach my mother’s house.’

He fixed his amazing eyes on her and Georgina had the curious sensation of free falling. Her stomach lurched and swooped as her eyes drifted down to his mouth and then immediately skittered away. She licked her lips and croaked some nonsense about having some work to do for her next job.

‘Right,’ he said, as her voice tapered off, ‘how is it that we’ve gone from war zone to bedroom in such a short space of time?’

‘I haven’t thought through the details,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose we can say it was just one of those things. Opposites attracting. It happens. I mean, you have a long history of being attracted to women who are nothing like you.’

‘Nor are they like you,’ he inserted smoothly. ‘Aside from which, I’ve never had a serious relationship with any of them—not like the one we’re supposed to be having...’

‘I acted on impulse,’ Georgina said in a muted voice. ‘I would never normally think of deceiving anyone, but before I could think things through—work out how it’s even credible that the two of us could ever have anything going—I’d come right out and spun a story. I’m sorry about that. You’ve been cornered into doing something you don’t want to do, and I don’t blame you if you’re seething.’

‘Forget it.’ Matias looked at her.

‘I never even stopped to think that you might actually be going out with someone...one of your ditzy blondes...’

‘You were so wrapped up in cheering up my mother that rational thought took a back seat?’

‘Something like that.’

‘So, it’s a very good thing that I’m going to be in charge of making sure that that doesn’t happen again. We will do what is necessary and make sure that the boundary lines are firmly in place.’

‘Meaning...?’ Georgina automatically bristled.

Matias didn’t say anything for a few taut seconds. Out of the blue he was thinking back to that luscious body—a body he would never have guessed lay beneath the layers of unattractive flowing sacks she was so fond of wearing. His libido kicked into gear again and he scowled.

‘Meaning we don’t forget that this is a convenient charade...’

There was no way Matias was going to give in to that sudden, inexplicable surge in his libido. When it came to relationships Georgina White was after the real thing. Once upon a time she’d been engaged, and she’d been stood up at the last minute. That didn’t mean she’d shut the door on her dreams. That wasn’t her nature. But she’d been hurt once. There was no way he would ever be responsible for hurting her again by taking what his libido had wanted when he’d seen her in those next-to-nothing pyjamas.

‘I won’t forget,’ Georgina returned stiffly. ‘And once again I apologise for landing you in this mess. Your life is so well ordered—this must be a nightmare for you to take in.’

‘Now, why do I sense an implied insult behind that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-your-mouth remark?’ Matias drawled, glancing at her full lips and absently noting how perfectly defined they were. Like rosebuds the colour of crushed raspberries. Funny he’d never noticed that before...

He lifted his dark eyes to hers. ‘I really wouldn’t waste time regretting what you’ve done. What’s the point? The fact is that we’re here now...in this together for better or for worse, so to speak.’

‘I didn’t stop to think things through.’ Georgina chewed her lip and shot him a worried glance. ‘I never considered the ramifications of how your mother would feel when it all...you know...collapsed...’

‘That’s a bridge to be crossed when we get to it. You’re projecting ahead. She’ll be fine.’ He looked at her, his dark eyes brooding. ‘At least once it’s over she’ll be able to think that I’m capable of holding down a relationship with a woman who isn’t obsessed with her physical appearance.’

‘Until you return to your catwalk model blondes,’ Georgina pointed out absently.

He shot her a crooked grin that did all sorts of annoying things to her heart-rate. Had she spent her entire life oblivious to just how spectacular Matias was? she wondered. No, that wasn’t it. She’d always known just how spectacular he was. It was just that now the situation between them was leading her to think thoughts that were taboo—wicked thoughts about what that lean, muscular body might look like underneath his clothes.

A Pandora’s box was opening and she knew that she had to make sure it stayed shut. She wasn’t an impressionable teenager any more! And, as he had coolly pointed out, this was a charade—a piece of fiction with no basis in reality.

‘Maybe I’ll go for a different type next time round,’ he drawled, standing up. He stretched, flexed his muscles and strolled towards the door.

‘What about all these details you want to put into place before tomorrow?’ Georgina remained where she was. ‘I thought you rushed over here to iron everything out because you’re going to work in the car on the way down?’

His hand was on the doorknob as he turned to look at her thoughtfully. ‘Question: did you ask for the house tour because you needed some background information to consolidate the myth that we’ve been meeting secretly, and it would have seemed odd if my mother had asked you about my house and drawn a blank?’

Georgina reddened, and then nodded sheepishly, at which Matias burst out laughing.

‘You’re one of a kind, Georgie,’ he mused, rocking on his heels and looking at her in silence for long enough for her to start feeling hot and bothered. ‘And one of a kind is certainly going to be a novelty for me.’

He opened the door. ‘I’ll text you before I leave tomorrow to come and fetch you. And then our little adventure will begin...’

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