Natalie Anderson - Claiming His Convenient Fiancée

Except it wasn’t that hard at all because he made her laugh too easily. He was extremely charming. In minutes she knew exactly why there were so many women present. He had that charisma, that X-factor, that way of looking at a woman as if she were the only person in the world who mattered to him in that moment. When she was the object of his focus, a woman felt good. It was a terrifyingly unfair talent. And he shared it around. He had his fingers laced through hers, but he talked with everyone equally.

Then she noticed people were watching them more attentively. Their gazes rested on the way he remained close to her the entire time. At the way he constantly touched some part of her—a hand on her back, her arm, or clasping her hand. As time passed into the second hour, he placed his arm over her shoulder and drew her closer to his side.

The guests began looking more assessingly at her. She heard the ripple of inquiry as they made their way from room to room. She heard the whisper of her name. Surreptitious glances became openly speculative.

If Alejandro noticed he said nothing, but his attentiveness became even more apparent. Until he then led her to a corner and stepped in close to put himself as a wall between her and the rest of his guests.

‘You seem to be causing a stir,’ he said, his onyx gaze pinning her in place.

‘Not me.’

He was the one doing all the touchy-feely stuff that was causing the stares.

‘Absolutely you.’ He laughed. That amusement danced in his eyes too and she couldn’t tear her attention from him.

‘You enjoy messing with people’s lives?’

‘In what way am I messing with your life?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Don’t overdramatize having to spend one night alongside me. It’s not going to change your world.’

‘It’s not?’ She furrowed her brow in mock-disappointment. ‘But I thought any woman who spent a night with the amazing Alejandro had her world rocked.’

‘Minx.’ He laughed again. ‘Come on, we’d better keep moving.’

‘Must we, darling?’ she murmured as she stepped alongside him.

The look he shot her then promised absolute retribution.

Kitty lifted her chin, feeling more game than ever. But, now she could look more freely about the house, she realised there was much gone from the rooms. Her family had had a ‘maximalist’ rather than a ‘minimalist’ style of decor but the mantelpieces were bare and shelves barren—the spaces punctuated by used champagne glasses and platters of stupidly tiny delicacies she’d yet to sample. With a pang she wondered what he’d done with all the smaller items of furniture and the trinkets and sculptures that she’d loved all her life—surely they weren’t all crammed into those boxes in the bedrooms upstairs.

‘Alejandro?’ a woman called from almost halfway across the room and walked over with quick, clipping steps. ‘I’ve just had a text from Saskia,’ she added, her eyes cold and wide as she locked her gaze on Kitty. ‘Bit of a bombshell, actually.’

‘Oh?’ Alejandro couldn’t have sounded less interested but his arm tightened infinitesimally, pressing Kitty closer to his side.

She wished he wouldn’t do that; feeling his hard strength was appallingly distracting, but she had the feeling he did it without even realising—so used to having a woman with him.

‘She said you’ve met someone else.’

There was a split-second of awkward silence and Alejandro was utterly still. The woman’s confident expression suddenly faltered.

‘Oh, that would be me,’ Kitty interjected sweetly before Alejandro had a chance to speak. ‘When I’ve had enough of him she’s welcome to have him back.’

She heard Alejandro’s sharply drawn breath and braced herself. Was he finally going to tell her to go now?

But he drew her closer still. It wasn’t an unconscious, almost undetectable gesture now. ‘But sweetheart,’ he breathed. ‘It’s my job to ensure you’ve never had enough.’ He turned to the woman. ‘If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get Catriona a drink. I think she needs one.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you—it’s Kitty?’ she muttered as he held her hand tightly and drew her through the crowds with him.

He smiled back at her and his hand tightened. ‘What will you have?’

She was aware of everyone watching them as he led her through the room. ‘Got any cyanide in the champagne?’

‘I’ll save you some for later, when it’s time to face your—how do you say?—fate worse than death.’ He looked pleased with himself at that.

‘I already told you, that’s never happening.’

He stopped in the centre of the room and faced her, apparently uncaring that everyone was staring, and positively hauled her right into his arms. ‘No? Not even a kiss to say sorry?’ Slowly and deliberately he brushed his thumb across her lower lip. ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much.’

‘Methinks the asshole doth have an outsize ego.’

He gazed at her, his expression delighted. He couldn’t have looked more proprietorial. Or more smitten. But his whispered words were so sarcastic and his awareness of her unbelievably smug. He was enjoying her discomfort hugely. She could tell by the unholy gleam in his eyes, but every touch made her acutely aware of him and his magnetism grew stronger.

She pulled back and made him keep walking.

So. Not. Happening.

It was his reputation that made her so aware of him. All that history, the list of conquests—the world’s most beautiful, desired women. But it wasn’t only that. There was no denying his physical perfection and the supreme assuredness that went with it.

It was impossible to look away from him for long. She’d never met anyone like him and she’d met plenty of wealthy, entitled people in the course of her life. But if you were to strip all those people bare of their designer dresses and jewels and outsize bank balances, many would fade into nothingness. Not Alejandro. Buck-naked in a bull ring he’d still conquer all. And she had the feeling he intended to conquer her. He thought he already had.

He had another think coming.

The awareness of the guests was even more apparent now. She felt the heat from a zillion hard gazes and fought to keep the polite smile on her face. She wasn’t going to lose her confidence. She was going to keep her head high and weather these last couple of hours. But she was quieter as she stood alongside Alejandro, her hand still firmly bound in his, as he talked work with a couple.

That was when she recognised two of the women on the far side of the room. A small British contingent seemed to be standing together. Kitty’s heart sank—of course they’d be there. Those two were like pearl hat pins—ultra pretty but with a sharp point they liked to stick into someone given the chance. She hadn’t seen Sarah in months, but she didn’t imagine she’d had a personality transplant in that time. The woman was a childhood chum of James’s—one who’d never approved of his engagement to Kitty and she was with another couple who were also very much ‘team James’. And great, they’d spotted her too and were circling closer like a school of sharks honing in for a feeding frenzy.

‘Kitty Parkes-Wilson!’ the first exclaimed loudly.

‘Hi, Sarah.’ Kitty smiled, turning to angle herself slightly away from Alejandro. Given he was engrossed in discussing the prospects of another hedge fund, she crossed her fingers he wouldn’t hear this conversation—because if anyone here was going to be predictable, it would be this woman.

‘Fancy seeing you here this week of all weeks.’ Sure enough, Sarah launched her first salvo in a loud chime.

‘You mean in my former family home the week we lost possession?’ Kitty smiled through her teeth. ‘Funny how life works, isn’t it?’