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Well, he was definitely annoyed. Infuriated, actually, and he took a deep breath to control the rush of anger he felt, justified as it was.
‘I have no idea why she would say that,’ he told Spencer. ‘I barely know the woman.’
‘Barely?’ Spencer repeated, sounding more than a little sceptical.
‘Yes, barely,’ Ben snapped. ‘And I don’t appreciate the inquisition. I met her when she stormed down here accusing me of putting her in a substandard room on purpose, because she was a Harrington.’
‘Did you?’
Ben rose from his chair at that, pacing the room to release some of the energy boiling inside him. ‘What do you think?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve told you before—I have zero interest in your deal with The Harrington. I couldn’t care less, Spencer, what the hell you do with your hotel. So no, I didn’t put some woman I didn’t even know in a small room as some kind of petty revenge. And that’s the last I’m going to say on it.’ He stopped, breathing hard, his hand clenching the phone so tightly his knuckles ached.
‘I’m sorry,’ Spencer said quietly, and Ben had the unsettling sense that Spencer was apologising for something else, that this conversation, at least from his end, had been about more than Olivia Harrington.
He sank back into his chair, took a few even breaths. Spencer let out a weary sigh. ‘It’s just been one hot mess after another with this whole deal. And now the negotiations are on the wire—I can’t have the Harringtons getting angry, or us looking like idiots.’
‘I’m not sure,’ Ben said as calmly as he could, ‘what that has to do with me.’
‘If you call Olivia a liar in the press, it will look bad on us and them.’
‘How would it look bad on us?’ Ben demanded. ‘She’s the one who lied.’
‘You haven’t seen the photos, I take it.’
‘Photos?’ Ben could feel his blood pressure skyrocket again. He took several more deep breaths. He was not going to get angry about stupid Olivia Harrington. He was not going to get angry about anything, not any more. He wouldn’t let himself. ‘What photos?’ he asked evenly.
‘Of you and Olivia getting busy in the hotel pool.’
‘What...’ He stopped abruptly, remembering how he’d held her by the shoulders. How her long, slender legs had tangled with his in the water. How he’d felt her breasts press against his arm when he’d towed her to the edge of the pool.
Damn it.
‘I haven’t seen the photos,’ he said tersely, ‘but trust me, nothing happened. She’d swallowed some pool water and I was helping to...’
‘Resuscitate her?’ Spencer finished, his voice edged with sarcasm, and Ben winced. All right, so it sounded lame. It was still the truth.
Sort of.
Because while nothing had happened between them last night, he’d still felt a powerful pulse of attraction towards her. He’d had trouble sleeping, all because he was picturing Olivia in that ridiculous skimpy swimsuit and how she’d look when he peeled it off her. It had been way too long since he’d been with a woman.
‘So what do you want me to do?’ he asked heavily, and Spencer didn’t answer for a moment.
‘For whatever reason, Olivia Harrington said you were dating,’ he finally said. ‘Maybe she has the hots for you.’ And maybe not, although Ben didn’t think he was imagining the sexual tension he’d felt between them last night. Not, of course, that either of them intended to do anything about it. He certainly didn’t. He didn’t trust himself with any kind of serious relationship, and a fling with a wild card like Olivia Harrington was just plain stupid.
‘I want you to keep up the pretence of your relationship,’ Spencer decided. ‘Until the festival is over and this deal is closed.’
‘You want me to pretend to be dating Olivia Harrington,’ Ben clarified flatly. He could not believe his brother was actually asking him to do something so ludicrous.
‘Yes,’ Spencer said, as if it was both obvious and reasonable. ‘That’s the only solution, considering the circumstances.’
‘No.’
‘Ben. This deal is crucial to me. Uncle Gene already thinks it’s in the bag...’
‘And why does he think that?’
Spencer sighed. ‘Because I thought it was. John Harrington, useless idiot that he is, told me it was. Help me out here, Ben. Please.’
‘I’m already helping you out,’ Ben pointed out. ‘More than I even wanted to. This goes beyond, Spencer, what I am willing to do for the sake of The Chatsfield.’
