Her face was burning when he let her hand go inside the office. She was glad the lighting was dim and looked around. This was obviously a private study. Not as imposing as his other one, but somewhere he obviously spent a lot of time. Books were strewn around...papers. It was lived in. Comfortable. Messier than she would have imagined for someone who seemed so controlled.
He had some newspapers on the desk and turned one around to face her. Carefully keeping her expression neutral, she read the headline.
Hot! Hot! Hot! Luscious Lexie bags the world’s most reclusive bachelor and richest man!
It was more or less what she had expected, but still a blow to her gut. She couldn’t take her eyes off the pictures. One was of them arriving at the function the other night, her hand in his. She was practically welded to his body. She hadn’t even realised that she’d been stuck to him like that. Her eyes were huge. Lik
e a deer in headlights. Pathetic.
Another showed his head bending to hers. She couldn’t remember what he’d said—something about going inside after another minute. But it looked as if he was whispering a sweet nothing. Her face was turned to his.
And one last one was a shot from inside the hotel; it must have been taken by a guest or a waiter on a camera phone. They were at the table, his arm around the back of her chair, heads close together.
Lexie felt horribly exposed, even though she was used to seeing her picture in the papers by now. But not like this. These showed just how enticing and fascinating she found this dark and difficult man. She was relieved that there didn’t seem to be any pictures from the square. Even now those moments felt raw.
Cesar was perched on the edge of his desk, one powerful thigh in her eyeline, distracting her.
His voice sounding far too smug, he said, ‘They look convincing...although you’d be more used to this sort of thing than me.’
Feeling prickly at his tone—obviously the experience had been far more cataclysmic for her—and hating that he evidently believed in her guilt, Lexie stepped back and blurted out, ‘I had nothing to do with ending up in the tabloids with that man.’
Cesar frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Lexie started to pace, agitated. Dammit, she didn’t have to explain herself to this man. But...treacherously...she wanted to. Even if Cesar wasn’t really interested.
She stopped pacing and faced him, crossing her arms in a classic defence pose. ‘I didn’t have an affair with that man.’
His eyes narrowed on her. ‘So how did it come about?’
‘Jonathan Saunders...’ Lexie stopped for a moment. Even saying his name made her angry. ‘We’d just done a small West End play together for a few weeks. I’d worked with him years before on my very first short film. He’d been nice to me at the time—kind of like a mentor. I considered us friends... During the play he made a point of hanging out with me. Making sure I got home okay. Stuff like that.’
Lexie felt queasy to think that his easy affection and hands-off attention had sneaked under her skin so that she’d believed she could trust him. And even though she hadn’t really felt anything for him physically, she’d believed him to be a genuine friend. She’d been susceptible enough to consider that if he made a physical move she’d give him a chance. The thought made her skin crawl now.
‘After we’d finished the play he called around one day and he was in a state, saying he needed somewhere to stay. He had some story about being chucked out of his house because he couldn’t afford to pay the rent. I knew he wasn’t that successful as an actor—it seemed believable. I had a spare room so I offered it to him and he moved in for about a week.’
‘Did you sleep with him?’
Cesar’s voice was sharp and Lexie glared at him, annoyed with herself for even bringing it up. It was only exposing her even more.
‘I told you I didn’t have an affair with him.’
‘So what happened?’
‘He left early one morning, and I only found out because there was banging on the door. I’d been asleep. I figured it was him—that he’d left something behind—he’d started rehearsals for a new play. I was half asleep, and when I opened the door the street was full of photographers.’
Lexie’s face burned.
‘I was dressed in night clothes...barely awake... I discovered later that Jonathan was actually married and had had a huge row with his wife because she’d found out he was having an affair and that his girlfriend was pregnant.’
Her mouth went tight.
‘He’d known it was coming, because he’d been tipped off by his lover that the press suspected something, so he cultivated me. Made friends. Got me to trust him so that he could use me to be the fall guy when he wanted to protect his real girlfriend. He was terrified they’d track her down.’
Lexie sighed.
‘His lover was the wife of a prominent Conservative cabinet minister; she wanted to avoid scandal at all costs. He figured I was a better prospect to throw to the ravenous press and he set me up well—living with me for a week, letting them believe we’d moved in together.’
Lexie looked at Cesar.