AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A happy buzz that had gone some way to controlling her nerves—and all the feelings of inadequacy that had hijacked her during the flight.
Maybe it was pathetic how much she had enjoyed hearing him say he loved her outfit. And she probably ought to be shot for fishing for a compliment so shamelessly, but still his hot, unguarded approval had meant something.
She’d always believed that fanciful little girl had died after the summer in Provence. Because ever since that night she’d been forced to grow up, be a realist, not dream too big or too passionately, because she hadn’t wanted to risk having her spirit crushed again. But that little girl hadn’t died, she’d just been waiting for an opportunity like this.
Hearing Dominic’s praise for her work, and knowing it was genuine, even if their marriage would be fake, had made her feel as if that child was able to believe in herself again... At least a little bit. And that felt liberating and empowering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
The car crossed the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan. The legendary skyline rose on the other side of the East River, the skyscrapers like silent sentries to the city’s wealth and prominence.
As they drove through downtown she gazed in awe at the canyons of steel and glass and the bustle of traffic and people at street level—like London but so much more urgent, and manic, and less restrained. But as she heard Dominic finish his call it was hard for her to stay focussed on the excitement of being in a new city for the first time in her life.
His tension was palpable as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.
She had caught snippets of the conversation. Her French certainly wasn’t fluent, but as well as Mira’s name being mentioned several times she’d heard the word ‘vierge’.
Virgin.
Had Dominic been talking about her virginity to someone? Because she didn’t even know how to feel about that. Embarrassed mostly, but also confused. Why would that be relevant, to anything at all? The only way to find out what was going on, though, was to ask.
The muscle in his cheek was flexing as he stared out of the window, obviously thinking something through.
‘Is there a problem?’ she asked.
His head turned. He looked as if he was angry, but trying not to show it.
‘No,’ he said, too dogmatically to be entirely believable. She might know nothing about his business, but she knew when she was being hoodwinked.
‘If there’s a problem, I might be able to help,’ she said.
The hard line of his lips quirked in a reluctant smile. ‘Are you serious?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I am.’ She had no idea why he found that amusing, but she decided him being amused was better than him being furious. ‘The only reason I’m here is to help you get this deal sorted out.’ She coughed slightly, as the blush burned in her cheeks. Okay, that was a blatant lie. ‘Well, the main reason I’m here is to help you get this deal sorted out.’
‘Is that so?’ he asked, his eyebrows launching up his forehead as he choked out a laugh.
‘Well, yes,’ she said.
‘Dieu, Alison. Have I told you yet how damn adorable you are?’
‘Maybe,’ she said, glad to see him smile. But even gladder she’d caused that smile.
Especially when he picked up her hand, opened her fingers and pressed his lips into her palm.
Her fingers curled around his cheek, heat shooting into her abdomen.
‘Damn but I want you so much,’ he said. The admission sounded a little tortured—which made her smile even more.
‘Well, good,’ she said. ‘Because so do I.’
‘Bien,’ he murmured, with that hot possessive look in his gaze that was guaranteed to get the mutant butterflies partying in her pants.
He clasped her hand, and squeezed it. ‘Okay, if I tell you what the call was about, will you promise not to be offended?’
‘Of course,’ she said. Confused now. Because he looked pained. And the slash of regret wasn’t his usual default. He struck her as a man who made a point of regretting nothing.
‘That was my business manager, Etienne Franco, on the phone. The consortium are questioning the validity of our love match because my former fiancée decided to give an exclusive interview to a British tabloid newspaper, which implied you’re...’ He paused, the muscle in his cheek flexing again. ‘How did she put it in the article? “Being paid to service my sexual appetites while posing as my wife.”’
Ally cleared her throat, not sure what to say, because although she knew she should be offended by Mira’s comments, the fact he seemed to be offended enough for both of them had a bubble of pleasure forming in her throat.
