the antique dresser. ‘We can’t risk the staff spreading rumours.’
Nicole’s brow rose. ‘That’s not happening.’
‘What’s wrong? Afraid you won’t be able to control yourself?’
He watched as she bit hard on her lower lip, looking away from him. When she looked back he was surprised to find anger in her expression rather than embarrassment.
‘This isn’t what I agreed to, Rigo.’ She stared at him. ‘It’s not...appropriate for this arrangement.’
‘Believe me, I am not a threat to you. I’m counting down the days until this wedding is over just as much as you are.’
‘Well, then, why on earth would we need to sleep together? Surely you trust your own employees?’
‘I make it a rule not to trust anyone.’ He began to open the buttons at his neck, noticing how her eyes followed the movement. ‘We are supposed to be in a whirlwind love affair here. We will share a bed. End of discussion.’
‘It’s nice to see that I have some say in this arrangement.’
‘About as much of a say as I do, cara,’ he drawled. ‘Sleeping alongside each other is the least of our worries right now.’ He removed his shirt, folding it up before moving to unhook his trousers. He looked up to find Nicole watching him.
She cleared her throat as if to speak, but no sound came out. He almost smiled when she averted her eyes, sliding quickly under the covers and pulling them up to her chin. He might have won this round, but who was the real winner when the prize was a night of physical torture?
Rigo finished undressing, opting to leave his boxers on. He usually slept completely nude, but he decided that might be a step too far in this cosy little arrangement. He lay down, crossing his arms behind his head. Her breathing was slow and contained, but he could sense the tension coming off her in waves. They both felt it—the madness they were capable of unleashing if they let their guards down.
He was in for a long night.
* * *
It took a moment for Nicole’s mind to adjust when she awoke in Rigo’s bed the next morning. Holding her breath, she turned to find the other side of the bed empty. The sheets were still warm, so he hadn’t been gone long. Sleeping next to a wall of half-naked muscle had seemed an impossible task last night, but in the end she had slept soundly, having been so exhausted from the day’s events.
The apartment was quiet. Anna had woken once briefly for comfort in the night but had fallen back to sleep in the crib that Rigo had arranged to be transported from her home along with the rest of her things. While she still slept Nicole took her time to shower and apply light make-up, silently thanking the staff’s efficiency in having all of her belongings transferred from La Petite so quickly.
The thought of her beautiful farmhouse being occupied by new tenants made her heart break. All the little homely touches she had added would be removed and painted over...all trace of their time there gone. That life was just a memory now.
She’d agreed to this marriage for Anna—to give her a relationship with her father and a better life than she could offer. But still something plagued her. It was almost as though she had got away from the ever-present threat of the media only to be presented with another, less obvious threat in Rigo.
She was glad when Anna finally awoke so that she could focus on the usual routine of her day and avoid the uncomfortable thoughts that played on her mind. But she soon found that ‘normal’ wasn’t so easy to achieve with a housekeeper anticipating her every need. A breakfast buffet was presented to her, along with an array of freshly prepared baby meals for Anna. Fresh fruit, crêpes, pastries and steaming coffee filled the kitchen island.
Nicole thanked the woman for her thoughtfulness. The food was much better than the simple meals she had learned how to prepare in La Petite. She had never cooked more than toast for herself before moving away from London, having always eaten in trendy restaurants and cafés in order to be ‘seen’. But surprisingly learning to cook and bake had been a secret joy of hers while she was pregnant, along with cleaning and just being self-sufficient.
Sitting here and seeing that all of her baby’s bottles had been washed and steamed, all of their clothing laundered and pressed... It made her feel strangely redundant. She felt a deep frown settling between her brows and instinctively smoothed it away.
‘Nicole, the nannies are here to be interviewed.’ Alberto’s tall, thin frame appeared in the doorway, startling her.
‘Nannies?’ Nicole swallowed a mouthful of melon and stood up to face Rigo’s right-hand man. ‘I never arranged for any interviews.’
‘Rigo made a shortlist from the most elite agency in Paris.’ He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly, clearly bored with the day’s task.
‘I didn’t agree to a nanny,’ Nicole argued. ‘This is something he should have cleared with me first,’ she said quietly.
‘I’m just the messenger. Take it up with him if you have a problem,’ he droned.
She bit her lip and picked up her mobile phone. She would call him and calmly tell him that it was not okay for him to commandeer her life simply because they were going to be married. She took a breath, then paused, suddenly realising she didn’t actually have her fiancé’s phone number.
Alberto rolled his eyes at her request, pressing a button on his own phone and handing it to her. Nicole avoided the older man’s cynical gaze. He made her feel deeply uncomfortable any time he was around. The memory of him silently escorting her out of this apartment all those months ago had never truly left her.
She was shaken from her thoughts as Rigo’s deep baritone answered with a curt, ‘Si?’
‘Did you arrange for someone to care for my daughter without consulting me first?’
A shuffling of papers could be heard in the background, along with hushed talking before he spoke to her again. ‘Yes, I arranged for a selection of candidates to arrive this morning. As I’m sure Alberto has already informed you, seeing as you are calling me from his phone.’
‘Why would you presume that I need help, Rigo? I’ve cared for her just fine for the past six months of her life—or do you think me incapable?’ She heard the hostility in her voice, but didn’t care.
Rigo sighed on the other end of the line. ‘Nicole. You will have a handful of events to attend and an entire wedding weekend to get through. I hardly think walking down the aisle with the child strapped to your back will be practical, now, do you?’
Nicole bit her lip, absorbing his words. She had been so caught up in the storm of changes that she hadn’t even thought of who would care for Anna. She had never needed anyone to watch her daughter before now, having spent all her time at home with her. Perhaps she did need someone trustworthy—just until the wedding was done with...
‘I’ll take your silence as an apology,’ Rigo drawled on the other end of the line. ‘Is there anything else you would like to accuse me of this morning, or will that be all?’
‘No, that was it,’ she said quickly, her cheeks burning. ‘I’m sorry for presuming that you thought—’
‘Don’t
