Chapter 9
NINE
Fred Goodhew’s mansion stood on the outskirts of Stirling, nestled in a leafy, forested estate only accessible via a wrought-iron gate at the end of a long drive. Leo slowed as he drove the car onto his boss’s property, his mind still spinning from what had happened the night before.
Amelia hadn’t said much to him today. What was there to say? He’d acted like a horny asshole, and she obviously regretted kissing him. If he were a better man, he’d regret it too.
But he couldn’t.
In fact, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d barely slept last night because his body had burned up for hours. He could still taste her on his tongue, could feel the way she softened and writhed atop him.
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as they made their way down the arrow-straight road, tree branches arching overhead, barrels of annual flowers dotting the drive at even intervals. It was his first year as an event director and the first time he’d been invited to the company party. He should’ve been happy about it.
Instead, he was ashamed.
“Whoa,” Amelia breathed, shifting in her seat. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and the ring on her third finger sent off multicolored sparks. The mansion came into view before them, a sprawling building with gray siding and a dark roof, its front door framed with four white columns. A round turret stood sentinel at the left side of the property, giving the building a strange, disjointed look, like multiple houses had been mashed together to create this gargantuan monster.
The circular drive led them around a spraying fountain shaped like two jumping fish, and they came to a stop in front of the grand front entrance. A valet in a crisp black suit stepped up and opened Amelia’s door to let her out before circling to collect the keys from Leo. They were led up the steps to another staff member, who gave them both a shallow half-bow.
The man was in his fifties, with perfectly slicked-back silver hair. He wore an honest-to-goodness tailcoat with a starched white shirt and shiny, black, patent leather shoes. The only bit of color on his outfit was a pin with the Goodhew Inc. logo on his breast.
“Mr. St. James. Ms. Darcy,” the man said, even though they’d never met. “Welcome to the Goodhew Estate. We hope you’ll have a pleasant stay. My name is Percival. If you have need of anything at all during your time with us, please let me know.” He led them inside the huge double doors, into an ornate foyer. “Your bags will be taken directly to your room. We have refreshments set up in the Blue Room. If you’ll follow me.”
Amelia’s eyes were wide as she glanced at Leo. “A freaking butler,” she whispered, wiggling her eyebrows.
It was the first hint of her personality he’d seen all afternoon, and Leo felt himself finally relax. Maybe she’d forgive him for acting like an ogre last night. Not that he deserved her forgiveness.
Percival the butler led them down a wide, marble-tiled hallway dotted with sculptural pieces and gilded paintings. Chandeliers glittered above them, sending twinkling lights flashing over all the luxurious furnishings. They turned a corner and the sound of conversation floated toward them. Halfway down the next hall, Percival stood aside and gestured to an open doorway.
The Blue Room was, indeed, blue. The walls were a soft periwinkle, and the two large couches that dominated the space were a rich, royal-blue velvet. Drapes of the same fabric and hue framed the gorgeous forest view, and tasteful vases burst with fresh flowers all around the room.
In contrast, the people milling around the space and lounging on the blue furniture stood out, wearing yellows and blacks and pinks, as if the designer had planned for people to pop against the monochromatic decor. It worked. The room was as striking as it was unique.
“St. James!” Fred boomed. “Amelia! Welcome!”
Arm firmly wrapped around his fiancée, Fred approached. Fred wore his usual button-down shirt and slacks, and Nadia was decked out in a fitted, knee-length dress in a pale shade of orange. Her cast, incredibly, had been changed to match her outfit.
They all greeted each other, and Nadia lifted Amelia’s hand. “Gorgeous!” she exclaimed, admiring Amelia’s ring. “The diamond is so small and cute! Adorbs!”
Leo stiffened slightly, but Amelia burst out laughing, clearly reading no maliciousness in the other woman’s words. “I love it,” she said, and it sounded like the truth. Leo felt a glow of warmth in his chest, which he tried his best to ignore. It wasn’t a real engagement ring. It didn’t matter if Amelia liked it or not.
Amelia nodded toward Nadia’s hand. “Yours is a showstopper.”
Nadia admired the pink diamond on her hand, adjusting it on her finger. The weight of the diamond immediately slid to the side again. Nadia glanced at Fred. “He did well. I haven’t been able to take it off for one minute, even to get it sized. It’s just too pretty. I can’t wait to get this silly cast off so I can wear it properly.” She turned back to Amelia, brightening. “But tell me! Have you started looking for a dress?”
Shifting on her feet, Amelia cleared her throat. “Oh, um… Not yet, but my sister just got married, and she brought me along to all her appointments.”
“And?” Nadia was obviously in her element, loving any and all mention of weddings.
“You know,” Amelia said thoughtfully, “I loved the dresses with a sleek silhouette. They didn’t work for Maggie, obviously, because she was getting married in May and she’s much more dramatic than I am. But I love that Old Hollywood vibe.”
Leo’s brows jumped. He tried to picture Amelia in a dress like that and had to wipe the drool from his face as a result. Her future husband was a lucky man.
“Oh, perfect !” Nadia squealed, clasping her hands. “It matches the ring! Vintage!”
“Much easier for us,” Fred said as an aside, clapping Leo on the back. “We just show up and get married.”
“Oh, Leo is taking a very active role in the planning stages,” Amelia cut in, a wicked little glint in her eyes. “He’ll be able to tell you all about every little detail. He’ll talk your ear off about it. He has a color-coded spreadsheet and everything.”
“Really?” Nadia swung toward him, and Leo had to force himself not to take a step back from the force of her interest. “I would love to see it! You must send it to me.” She pointed to Leo’s pocket. “Do you have it on your phone? Show me!”
Now he did take a step back. Clearing his throat, Leo shook his head. “I, uh, don’t have it on me.”
“You’ll send it to me,” Nadia proclaimed, smiling. She was obviously a woman who got what she wanted.
In his peripheral vision, Amelia grinned. Leo wanted to tackle her to the floor. She’d pay for that.
“Leo has always had a keen eye for detail,” Fred cut in smoothly, just as Nadia looked like she was ready to start a full-fledged wedding inquisition. “He’s highly requested by our clients,” Fred told Amelia. “He’s got real skill at understanding a client’s vision, even when they’re not exactly sure what they want themselves.”
Surprised at the compliment, Leo straightened. Amelia peered at him from beneath her lashes, then smiled at Fred. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. He’s very perceptive.”
Glancing at her, Leo tried to read her expression. It looked sincere. But that would mean she believed the praise Fred had given him, which was unusual. Most people thought he just partied for a living.
“I have to make the rounds,” Fred said. “Here! Have a drink.”
A waiter glided to a stop in front of them, bearing a tray with a selection of beverages. Fred and Nadia excused themselves and moved on to the next guest to greet, and Amelia and Leo turned to the waiter. Leo chose a glass of champagne, while Amelia was intrigued by the green juice the waiter pointed out. “Kiwi, ginseng, and apple,” the man told her. “Energizing and delicious.”
She tasted it, humming in appreciation. Leo couldn’t help but watch her enjoy her sip. He craved that moment of bliss, wanting to witness it any time something touched Amelia’s lips. Did she really think he was perceptive, or was she just playing the part of an adoring fiancée?
“So,” a deep voice cut through his thoughts, “this is the famous fiancée.”
Leo put his hand on Amelia’s lower back and turned to look at the owner of the voice, already having recognized his bitter professional rival, Ari Ashfield. The man was six foot two, lithely muscled, and loved to snipe jobs out from under Leo’s nose. He wore a fitted black shirt and pants, his dark eyes just as sharp as his tailoring.
“Ari,” Leo responded coolly. “This is Amelia.”
“The singer.”
Amelia froze for a beat, then flashed a bright smile. “That’s right.”
They shook hands. His grip was firm.
“Give us a tune, then.” Ari’s eyes narrowed in challenge. “We’ve heard so much about your talent.”
“Oh, I’m resting my voice.” She lifted the green juice with one hand and touched her throat with the other.
A grunt, and Ari swung his gaze back to Leo. “Nice to see you finally performed well enough to get an invite to this thing. It was starting to get boring around here without you. I’ve done this so many years now, you know. It’s good to have some fresh meat at the retreat.”
Leo bared his teeth. Ari never let him forget that he’d been here longer, knew more people, and threw the best events—but they both knew the truth. It was because Ari liked to play dirty. He wasn’t afraid to undercut his own coworkers to get hired for a job.
“Ari, darling, don’t be such a prig.” Vanessa Neale came floating toward them, statuesque and beautiful. Her dress was skin-tight and neon pink. She looked like a Barbie, except for the calculating gleam in her eyes. Her sharp-eyed gaze landed on Leo, then shifted to Amelia. Full, pink lips curled into a predatory smile. “I’m Vanessa. Leo and I go way back . We’re so close , and I kept telling him to bring you around. Finally , you’re here.” Her gaze slid to Leo. “Took you long enough, silly.”
There was a thick slathering of innuendo in her words, and Leo bristled. They’d never slept together, but Vanessa had made it clear she wanted to. If Leo had met her a few years ago, he wouldn’t have hesitated. But this job was important to him. He wouldn’t ruin it by sleeping with a coworker.
Plus, the thought of sleeping with Vanessa didn’t appeal to him. She was beautiful, but… He couldn’t put his finger on why he felt no attraction to her. Maybe he was just bored of the whole game. Flirting, innuendo, casual sex…it seemed so meaningless all of a sudden.
Amelia smiled at the other woman, something sharp in her eyes. “That’s funny. Leo never mentioned you at all.” Then she turned to Leo, lifted her hand, and stroked his cheek, letting her fingers drift up to push a strand of hair off his forehead. It was blatantly possessive, and Leo’s knees nearly went weak. His eyes bored into Amelia, hands itching to grip her hips and drag her from the room so they could find some privacy.
He’d kill for her to do that again, for her to stake her claim over him in front of everyone. Between one blink and the next, he was hard as rock behind the zipper of his pants. She wanted him, and she couldn’t hide it. She was as desperate for?—
Stop, you idiot. It’s not real. She’s faking it. It’s all an act.
Reeling himself back in, he curled an arm around Amelia’s shoulders. “Vanessa runs the California office,” he explained, voice only slightly raspy. He glanced at the two others. “Where are your dates?”
“Mark wanted to go check out the pool,” Vanessa said with a wave of her hand. “He’ll be around for dinner.” Her eyes landed on Ari, and they shared a strange look. “And Ari came alone this year.”
“There he is!” An older man came barreling into their little quad, clapping Leo on the shoulder. “St. James and the mystery woman!”
Leo huffed. “Amelia, this is Robert Lafontaine. He’s our fixer. Anything goes wrong, Rob is there to make it right, as long as you don’t ask too many questions about how.”
Robert grinned, then leaned over and kissed Amelia on both cheeks, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Glad Leo found someone who understands him,” the man said. “I’ve been telling him to get his shit together for years.”
“Oh, Robbie,” his wife said, coming to join him with a glass of champagne dangling between her fingers. Trudy wore a gauzy, embroidered kaftan, her highlighted brown hair pinned back at her temples. “Stop bothering the lovebirds. Amelia, darling, Leo has told us all about you. You’re a musician, yes? Kitty Cat, is that right?”
“Um.” Amelia cleared her throat. “Kitty Catelli,” she managed to say while maintaining a straight face. Leo wanted to kiss her.
More people flocked to meet Leo’s fiancée, and Amelia began to look a little green. He’d underestimated the amount of curiosity his stories had generated. Their rep for Australia, Sean Walters, dragged his girlfriend over and the two of them had demanded to know if she could sing better than Mariah Carey. Then there were the two brothers who ran shipping and logistics, George and Gregory. They peppered Amelia with a dozen more questions about her band, pulling out their phones to try to look her up online.
She deflected and demurred, obviously uncomfortable with outright lying. Leo kept his winces internal, regretting dragging her into this whole thing.
Finally, Cora Hale hobbled over, shooing all the others away. The payroll administrator was as fierce as she was short, her gray hair permed and set into tight curls. She wore a yellow pantsuit, a matching yellow purse slung over her arm. “Leave the poor girl alone,” she said, swatting at the vultures pecking for bits of juicy meat. She used her purse like a cudgel. “Go. Shoo!”
Amelia gave the older woman a grateful smile when most of the crowd had dispersed. “Thank you.”
“Of course, honey,” Cora said. She grabbed Amelia’s hand in both of hers, shaking and patting it, a smile tugging at her lips. “They’re like dogs,” she explained. “You just need a firm voice to tell them to buzz off.”
Amelia laughed, and the older woman finally let her hand go. “What do you do at Goodhew?”
“Cora makes sure everyone gets paid on time,” Leo said, smiling at the older woman. “The company would fall apart without her.”
“You can say that again.” Cora hiked her purse up and gave him a curt nod.
Leo slid his arm around Amelia’s shoulders. Amelia leaned into him slightly, and some pinched feeling in his chest eased. “She’s a genius with spreadsheets.”
Amelia brightened. “I love spreadsheets!”
Cora laughed, but her eyes sharpened for a moment. “Interesting,” she mused, patting Amelia’s arm before shifting her gaze to Leo. “Found yourself a good one. Hang on to her.”
“I plan to,” Leo said, and it felt like a vow.
Amelia’s head spun. Thirty-odd people milled around the room, and she only remembered a handful of names. Grateful that Leo had stuck by her side, she sipped her third green juice—which was surprisingly delicious—and kept a placid smile on her lips.
These people just had to believe she and Leo were engaged. They didn’t have to like her or think well of her. She just had to stand here and make their fake relationship believable.
It was easier than she wanted to admit. Every time Leo touched her, her body bent toward him like a sunflower following the light.
A clinking sound drew her attention to the far corner of the room, where Fred stood on top of a little raised pedestal. Nadia, his fiancée, was beside him, their arms wrapped around each other’s waists. She looked up at her future husband with nothing but devotion in her eyes, and Amelia, uncharitably, felt another pang of jealousy.
It wasn’t like her to feel this way. She was a keep-you-eyes-on-your-own-paper kind of person. But maybe the embers of lust that still warmed her blood after the kiss last night were muddling her brain. She couldn’t help but be jealous of all the loving couples in the room, especially when it made it all the more obvious how fake things were between her and Leo.
“Welcome,” Fred finally said, his voice carrying easily across the room. “Nadia and I are so grateful to welcome you to our home. Stirling was the town of my birth, and this property means everything to me. To welcome my most trusted employees into my home is an annual tradition that I hope to carry on for years to come. We have a few things to celebrate this year.” He went on to describe the successes of the business, including truly staggering revenue and profit numbers, as well as some funny anecdotes about celebrity parties throughout the year. “This week is about celebrating your achievements. It’s my thanks for another great year. To many more.” He lifted his glass, and the assembled crowd did the same, repeating his toast.
Leo stood next to her, the warmth of his body radiating through her arm. A thrill shot through her middle when his hand slipped across her lower back, and she bit her lip to contain it. His touch was a drug.
The kiss had been wonderful, but she had to remind herself that this was all an act. An exchange of services. He was just teaching her how to get a boyfriend, not volunteering for the position. And she was pretending to be his betrothed. It wasn’t the start of their love story. Far from it.
“There’s another thing I want to celebrate,” Fred continued, “and that is love.” He lifted an arm and gestured to Amelia and Leo.
All eyes turned toward them, and Amelia froze.
“Our very own Leo St. James has finally brought his fiancée into the fold.”
Polite applause filled the room, and Leo turned toward her. His hand slid from her lower back to her hip, warm and sure as he held her body. His eyes were serious as he stared into hers, gaze flicking down to her lips. Then, before she could react, he brushed his lips against hers and pulled away as the applause redoubled in volume.
Fred laughed from his dais, lifting his glass in acknowledgment. Leo tugged Amelia close to his chest, nuzzling his lips into her hair.
Amelia was being torn in two. Half of her loved the touch. Loved the kiss. Wanted so desperately for him to do it again…
And the other half reminded her that none of it was real. She wanted to kill Leo for putting her in this position.
The second half won. She elbowed Leo’s gut, and he grunted, wincing, but caught her arm before she could do it again. “That wasn’t very nice,” he rumbled, and desire shot through Amelia’s veins. His voice was an aphrodisiac. She was out of control. Her body was a runaway train.
“Neither was the ambush kiss,” she whispered.
“Hardly a kiss,” he murmured back, lips brushing her ear. “Unless you’ve forgotten what we did last night?”
Now he was mocking her again. “What if I have? It’s not like it was memorable.”
A low chuckle. He knew she was lying. “You’re my fiancée, Amelia,” he grated, his hand still wrapped around her arm, his breath coasting over her ear.
Amelia’s lust didn’t abate. She sucked in a deep breath and forced herself to smile, then leaned against her supposed fiancé, hoping the conflict raging inside her didn’t show on her face. Her poker face was terrible, but thankfully everyone had turned back to the man on the dais.
“And on that note, I’d like to announce my own engagement. Nadia, baby?—”
A scream tore out of Nadia’s lips. Horror flashed across her features as she looked down at her right hand, slowly lifting it until it was at eye level. She trembled, frantic. After a long, confused moment when everyone frowned and watched her, Nadia dropped the arm and bent over, looking all around her. With a cry, she fell to her knees and ripped a nearby tablecloth off a table, sending glasses crashing to the ground.
“Nadia! What—” Fred tried to haul her back up, shouting at a nearby staff member to clean up the mess and get a doctor. Glass was everywhere. The smell of champagne filled the air. Murmurs surged through the room as guests tried to figure out what was going on.
Ari, nearest to the dais, backed away and slinked through the crowd toward the door. Vanessa frowned at Nadia, then met Ari’s gaze. Ari tilted his head to the door, then slipped through. The two brothers—what were their names? They started with G, Amelia thought—pushed their way to the front of the crowd and called at everyone to watch the broken glass.
“What’s going on?” Amelia asked quietly as Leo curled his arm around her waist to hold her close.
“I’m not sure,” Leo answered as he set down his glass of champagne and clamped his other hand on her waist, shifting her away from the confused crowd.
Then, with a wail, Nadia’s head lifted. “My ring!” she cried. “My ring is gone!”