Claiming His Convenient Fiancée

She stared at the empty space in the room that he’d left. That was it? Had he really gone so quickly—with just a few words?

Better get used to it. This was what would happen when they parted for good.

Swallowing back a horribly desolate feeling, she turned back to her checklist. She wasn’t going to torture herself imagining him with a million women while he was away. She was going to get the work done so she could get away quickly and cleanly once he did return and keep herself from hurting more. And until then, when he was out of sight, she’d keep him out of her mind.

But she was lonelier than she’d ever been in her life. The house was too empty, that new bed too huge, the ache in her heart too unrelenting. She needed distraction—and plenty of it.

* * *

‘What the hell is going on with you two?’ Teddy’s eyebrows were at his hairline as he poured her a coffee in the theatre’s green room. ‘You’ve really fallen for him?’

‘It’s impossible not to fall for him.’ Kitty shrugged and forced a smile as she confessed the truth in the safety of a joke. ‘Unfortunately. But he’s away and I need something to do.’

Her brother eyed her for a moment, then pushed a mug of coffee towards her. ‘We need help,’ he said. ‘We always need help. No one can source cheap props the way you do. Can’t pay, though.’

Kitty laughed, grateful for the support. ‘Well, duh.’

She enjoyed the theatre scene. Hunting for props was fun, creating them even more so. While Teddy’s play was almost due to open, the play next in the schedule needed some items that she was happy to help conjure up. She hadn’t done that in an age—not since before she’d had to get a ‘real job’ as gallery assistant.

True to her request, Alejandro didn’t phone her. But that night he did send her a picture. It was of the empty soup container on his desk. His dinner. She sent him a selfie poking her tongue out at him.

The next night it was a pizza box. The night after that, a noodle box.

* * *

Less than halfway through his self-imposed respite week Alejandro wondered, for the millionth time, what Kitty was doing. Where she was. Who she was with.

Unease chilled his gut. Would she be out seeing friends? Would she have finished up at the house and left?

She hadn’t wanted him to phone. She hadn’t been able to meet his eyes when she’d asked him not to and he’d made her explain why. Now he felt embarrassed about that call he’d placed to Saskia in front of her. What an arrogant thing to do. He arranged for a bunch of flowers and a brief, apologetic notecard to be sent to Saskia. He hadn’t meant to be cruel, but maybe he had been. Contrary to what he’d told Kitty at the time, he didn’t know for sure if all Saskia had wanted was a quick fling. As usual he’d set out his expectations and just assumed she’d accepted them. But too often people hid their true feelings.

He counted down the days but time crawled. The nights were worse. His sleep was disturbed, but not by desire. Twice he woke with sweat filming his brow. That old helpless despair clogged his throat. He stared into the darkness and thought of her to make himself feel better. And worse. Because he couldn’t stop thinking of her.

The fourth night away, he couldn’t take it any more. He succumbed to the temptation and called Kitty’s mobile. But she didn’t pick up. The brief message on her answer service wasn’t enough to satisfy his need to hear her voice. He tried the landline at Parkes House. She didn’t answer that either.

He paced through his Manhattan apartment, his concentration in smithereens. He needed to know where she was. He needed to know now. Was she okay? Had she been in an accident? Was she with someone else?

A billion questions swarmed in his mind, stopping him from thinking properly. Slowly, a cold unease seeped into his belly and began to burn. This obsessing over her was becoming a festering wound. Who was he to demand to know the minutiae of her day? Since when was his head so filled with wonderings about a woman? He did not want to be this man. He’d never wanted to be this man—not obsessive, not possessive.

His phone rang and he pounced on it. But it wasn’t Kitty; it was one of his junior consultants in the London office.

‘I’ve had a question come up—’

‘I’ll come back early.’ Alejandro fell on the excuse gladly.

‘You don’t need to—’

‘I’ll be on the first flight.’

It was night-time when he landed.

‘Is Kitty at home?’ Alejandro asked Paolo the second he saw him waiting for him at the airport.

Paolo looked evasive as he led the way to the car. ‘She said she was happy using public transport.’

Grimly, Alejandro said nothing. Paolo was not a gaoler but he was a protector, and Alejandro should have made it clear that he needed to know she was physically safe and secure at all times.

After Paolo dropped him off, he unlocked the door, his anticipation building. But he knew as soon as he crossed the threshold that she wasn’t home. He paced though the house, wondering where she was, who she was with, why she still wasn’t answering her damn phone.

Finally, almost two stomach-churning hours later, he heard the key in the door.

She was in her usual black trousers, black top ensemble, not one of the designer dresses. Her hair was tied back and hidden under a black wool beanie of all things. She’d not been out to dinner? She was smiling—looking so happy—and she’d not seen him yet.

‘Hey.’ He couldn’t choke out more of a greeting than that. The wave of emotion at seeing her again was too intense.

‘Alejandro.’ For a moment she looked shocked. But then her brilliant smile broadened. ‘You’re back early.’

That reaction soothed him, but not completely.

She put her large bag down and unwound the scarf from her neck. ‘Did you miss me too much?’ She looked sassy.

‘I got the work done sooner than I’d expected.’ He couldn’t relax enough to walk towards her. ‘Where’ve you been?’

She didn’t take her gaze from him. ‘At Teddy’s play,’ she said softly. ‘It was opening night tonight.’

‘You didn’t answer your mobile when I called.’

‘Because I turned it off. It’s polite to do that when you’re at a live theatre performance.’ Her gaze intensified. ‘Before you ask, I’ve spent the last few days helping out at the theatre with the props.’

‘I wasn’t going to ask.’

‘No?’ She chuckled.

He shifted on his feet, not able to bring himself to walk either to her or away from her. He hated the mess of emotion in his gut.

She came nearer.

‘You’re not a little jealous?’ she teased lightly.

‘I don’t get jealous.’ He couldn’t even break a smile.

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nbsp; ‘No?’ Her eyes danced. ‘Maybe something you ate disagreed with you.’

‘I’m not jealous,’ he repeated. He hated this feeling. He wanted it to go away. He wanted her to come closer to him.

‘You missed me,’ he told her. It wasn’t a question.

Her mouth tightened and her chin lifted. ‘I missed the sex.’

Not a good enough answer. ‘Not me?’

‘And your grumpy mood? Hell, no.’

He reached out to curl his arm around her waist and haul her close so she was pressed against him. Hell, yes, that was where he needed her. Close.

‘Every step of the way you try to deny this attraction,’ he said roughly. ‘You deny it even as you dance into my bed.’

‘There are moments when I don’t like you.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘But as I’m stuck in this situation I might as well use what little you can offer.’

His body tightened at the insult. ‘What “little” can I offer?’

‘Orgasms,’ she answered airily.

‘Is that all?’

She chose not to say anything more. Provoking him.

Alejandro gave her a gentle shake. ‘Stop trying to annoy me. You won’t like it if I retaliate.’

‘You’re the one being annoying.’ She slipped off her beanie, released her hair from its elastic tie and shook it out. ‘You’re all talk.’

The anger he’d felt suddenly morphed into something else. The desire to control. To prove a point. Deliberately, slowly he lowered his head. Her response to his kiss was instantaneous and made the passion within him flare. But it didn’t soothe the need coursing in his veins. He lifted her and carried her up the stairs, kissing her as he climbed. Passion, anger and relief combined, giving him a burst of strength. He couldn’t get her naked quickly enough. But he didn’t strip himself. Not entirely. He needed to retain some control for what he intended to do.

He forced himself to slow down, to caress—first with fingertips, then lips, then tongue. His blood quickened as he felt her skin warm, as he heard her breathing change. He knew her well now but it still wasn’t enough. He couldn’t stop touching her, greedy for the feel of her skin against his again. Need spiked. He wanted to kiss her everywhere, touch her everywhere, take her. Now.