Virgin's Sweet Rebellion

He eyed her warily for a long moment and Olivia just kept herself from rolling her eyes in response. Seriously?

‘Right,’ he finally said, and she nodded and pointed to the paper, deciding brisk and businesslike was best.

‘Now about this—I need to ask a favour.’

Ben’s gaze narrowed. ‘Oh?’

‘It would be awkward for me to admit I made a mistake in saying we were dating.’

‘To admit you were telling a bald-faced lie, you mean,’ Ben returned, a sharp edge to his voice, and Olivia suppressed the flare of irritation she felt and gave him a wry smile instead. She’d charm him into agreeing. As dubious a prospect as that seemed, it was also the only one she could think of right now.

‘Well, if you want to put it that way, yes.’

‘So let me guess.’ Ben folded his arms. ‘You want me to agree to this sham of a relationship until—when? The festival is over?’

‘That would be fantastic,’ Olivia agreed cautiously. Ben had cottoned on just a little too quickly to her plan for her to feel comfortable. She was waiting for the catch. ‘I have a film deal in the works,’ she explained after a pause, ‘and it’s important that nothing messes it up.’

‘And how would your personal life affect a film deal?’

She shrugged. ‘Hollywood politics. This is a serious film, award-winning stuff. They don’t want an actress involved who whips up a media frenzy with tabloid photos and then...’

‘Lies about them.’

She gritted her teeth. ‘Right.’

Ben cocked his head, swept her with a coolly assessing gaze. ‘So what would play-acting at dating involve?’

‘Nothing much,’ Olivia said quickly. She willed herself not to blush and to stop thinking about what it most definitely wouldn’t involve. Like kissing him. ‘A couple of appearances, tops.’

‘A couple.’

‘I have a film premiere tomorrow night. Naturally people would expect us to go together. And maybe we could be seen out once—having dinner or a party or something?’

‘And that’s it?’

‘Since you obviously can’t bear the thought of spending any more time with me than necessary,’ she retorted, ‘yes, that’s it.’ She’d meant to sound wry and light and instead had come across as a bitter old hag. Oops.

‘Well...’ Ben gave one short, terse nod. ‘I suppose I can manage that.’

‘Really?’ Not in her wildest dreams had she expected him to be so accommodating. What she’d really been expecting was for him to tell her to deal with it on her own, because he wouldn’t be helping her get out of the huge hole she’d dug all by herself. So naturally she felt just a little suspicious. ‘You’re sure you’re okay with this?’ she probed carefully.

Ben’s jaw locked. ‘I said I was, but it’s hardly ideal. I hate any kind of play-acting. Lying to anyone, much less the entire world, is not something I relish.’ His mouth had hardened into a thin line and he looked angry again. Olivia swallowed.

‘Well, thank you. I appreciate your understanding in this, uh, matter.’

‘It shouldn’t be too arduous,’ he answered, and stupidly, Olivia felt herself blush. She was imagining what their sham relationship could involve that would be arduous. Energetic. Passionate.

She glanced at Ben, and with a thrill of shock she saw a heat simmering in his eyes, felt the air tauten and snap with tension between them. Sexual tension. This little charade might prove to be more of a challenge than she’d anticipated.

More of a temptation.

‘So...the premiere tomorrow night. You’re up for that?’

‘I suppose I’ll have to be. What does it entail exactly?’

‘We’ll appear on the red carpet together for a photo op...’ Ben grimaced and she frowned. ‘There’s no point if we don’t have photos taken,’ she said, and he shrugged.

‘Fine.’

She felt his derision like a physical thing, as if he’d slung a bucket of mud over her. She felt dirty.

‘We need to show the public...’

‘That we’re dating. Yes, I realise. As I said before, I just don’t like play-acting.’

Which must make her career choice particularly repugnant, Olivia thought. This was a match made in heaven. Not.

‘So a couple of photos, we watch the movie, and then there’s an after party. We can keep it short though.’ Even though she should be there, rubbing shoulders and mingling. Networking.

‘Fine.’

She swallowed, nodded. Tried to imagine what a date, even a pretend one, would feel like with Ben. Her mind leaped ahead to other scenarios, impossible ones of Ben kissing her. Backing her up against a door and pressing that long, lean, hard body against hers. That mobile mouth, now compressed into a hard line, against hers. Heat flared in her face and pooled in her belly. She glanced at Ben and saw him staring at her with so much answering heat that she nearly took a step backwards. Reminded herself that Ben Chatsfield was a dangerous proposition for someone who didn’t do relationships or even flings. Someone who needed to focus on her career.