a sudden flare of irritation.
‘At any rate,’ he pressed on, ‘no one will raise eyebrows about the timeline, and the fact that at least on paper this would appear to be the perfect match will certainly help things along. We both come from prominent Italian families... I have found the woman of my dreams, someone close to home, and have decided to steer my life in a different direction... Both families are overjoyed by the match...’
‘Even though our fathers haven’t been on speaking terms for years?’
‘All the more touching. Everyone likes a fairy-tale ending.’
‘You’re so cynical, aren’t you?’
‘Realistic and practical.’
‘And how are we supposed to have met? We don’t even live in the same country.’
‘I don’t think it will require great feats of the imagination to come up with something.’
Was she going out of her way to get on his nerves? he wondered. Did she honestly think that his life hadn’t also undergone a seismic change? Less than two weeks ago he had been a free man—free to go where he pleased, to have whatever woman he wanted. No one was waiting in the wings, expecting him to put in an appearance. That freedom had disappeared in a puff of smoke, but was he whining and complaining? No. He was solution-orientated and, like it or not, plans had to be made so that this pretence could be seamlessly accepted as nothing short of the absolute truth.
‘Let’s have your thoughts on this,’ he said.
An edge of irritation had crept into his voice and, hearing it, Alexa scowled, once again reduced to feeling petty.
‘I suppose we could have met here,’ she said, a little ungraciously.
‘I occasionally do come to Italy to see my father. . It’s a realistic enough scenario. You happened to be somewhere... Suddenly my life shifted on its axis... If a reporter asks you for details you can always tell him no comment and then gaze adoringly at me. Probably safer than getting tangled up in a lie.’
He looked at her glum face, then down to her baggy, unappealing outfit. No doubt she had pointedly dressed down for a confrontation she didn’t want, but it was something that would have to be discussed whether she liked it or not. He suspected not, but treading delicately round the issue wasn’t going to do.
‘Is that how you normally dress?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Jeans...baggy tops... And what are you wearing on your feet...?’
Alexa looked at him indignantly and stuck her foot out. ‘Trainers.’
‘Running shoes? To my mind, they’re for running. Are you running anywhere? Have you just come from the gym?’
‘What are you getting at?’ Her voice had risen a notch. His levels of arrogance were in the process of escalating.
‘Credibility,’ Theo said succinctly. ‘We may make the ideal match, and when our engagement hits the news much will be made of our backgrounds, but even the least observant reporter might question the fact that I’ve fallen head over heels in love with someone who doesn’t appear to give a damn how she looks...’
Alexa’s mouth dropped open. She contemplated throwing something at him.
‘That is the most insulting thing that has ever been said to me in my entire life!’
‘It’s not meant to be insulting,’ Theo informed her drily. ‘I’m looking at this situation from all angles and simply bringing one of those angles to your attention. The women I’ve dated in the past—’
‘There’s no need to go into that.’ Alexa was mortified, and outraged that he should be tactless enough to criticise her choice of clothing. ‘I know exactly what sort of women you’ve dated in the past.’
‘How so?’
‘I’ve seen the occasional picture in a trashy mag.’ She liked the way the words trashy mag rolled off her tongue.
‘You read “trashy mags”? You surprise me. I thought I might be getting a highbrow intellectual for a wife. I’m disappointed.’
There was a thread of amusement in his voice which she decided to ignore, because it seemed to point to a side of his personality that wasn’t part of the package she had conjured up.
‘They’re the only things to read at the hairdresser,’ Alexa told him airily. ‘Great big stacks of silly magazines, full of useless gossip. I saw a picture of you in one of them a couple of months ago. A tall, blonde woman was clinging to you as though she might fall flat on her face unless you kept her propped up. Maybe she’d had too much to drink...’ Alexa mused, enjoying herself for the first time that evening. ‘I hadn’t thought of that. But I suppose those society dos usually involve a lot of alcohol. I’ve been asked to several over the years,’ she inserted, truthfully enough, because as the daughter of a prominent Italian family she had occasionally been asked to some event or other in aid of a good cause, ‘but I try and avoid them.’
‘How virtuous.’
‘So, yes, I know that you date tall model-types. A bit like your brother. He also pops up in those kinds of magazines, with some drunken supermodel hanging on to him for dear life...’
Theo thought of Daniel and for a second tried to imagine what the mouthy little brunette facing him would have thought of his brother. His brother was the essence of a playboy—which was why he had laughed uproariously when Theo had told him about the situation he was stuck in.
It would have been Daniel’s ultimate nightmare, and he had been overjoyed at the prospect of being able to remain free, single and unattached, without having to worry that their father might start making noises about him settling down. One son who had settled down would be plenty good enough.
‘I like the way you think the supermodel was drunk...’ Theo murmured, temporarily distracted by her digression and thinking that, yes, there was a very high chance that whoever she had seen clinging to him had had too much to drink. ‘Maybe she was clinging to me because she liked the sensation of being pressed up against me... A lot of women do...’
Alexa blinked and blushed. ‘Well...’ the conversation had meandered, and she had only herself to blame ‘...in case you hadn’t noticed I’m not six-foot-two and blonde, so you can’t turn me into one of your supermodels...’
‘You know exactly what I was talking about, Alexa...’
‘Do I?’ The way he said her name sent little shivers through her, and her eyes glazed over as she tried to fight off the unusual sensation.
‘Show up next to me in a pair of jeans, some trainers and a baggy sweatshirt and people are going to scratch their heads in bewilderment. And show up next to me you’re going to have to—because we’re going to spend the next couple of months convincing whoever needs convincing that we’re a loved-up couple.’
‘I have a job...’ Alexa stared at him in horror.
‘I’m not asking you to shadow me twenty-four hours of the day,’ Theo clarified. ‘In fact
