A Reputation to Uphold by Victoria Parker Read Free Book Online Page B

any recent inflammatory stories but that meant nothing when her weekends could be made up of secluded private parties and dangerous liaisons.
    Slowly, inexorably, his gaze roamed over her apartment, the blatant romanticism of her career choice. Something didn’t make sense. She did not make sense.
    Dante scrubbed his jawline with the back of his hand. He’d just have to keep an extra-close eye on her. If only to ensure she played by the rules. His rules.
    The tension in his midsection eased, just a touch. This plan could work. It had to work.
    They could have it all.
    ‘I’ve given the press a story that will melt their cynical little hearts,’ he said, knowing his tone was sending the temperature in the room into a rapid decline. ‘The real thing.’
    The frown in her brow deepened, even as she focused on the fireplace. As if she were somewhere else. In thought so deep her expression was almost dream-like in its intensity.
    ‘The real thing?’ she asked, her voice as softly decadent as whipped cream.
    ‘ Sì. Love. ’ The word was like poison on his tongue, making it swell, his next words sounding thick. ‘For surely there is only one reason I could be torn from the bonds of an engagement. The fact that I’ve fallen madly in love with someone else. I’ve provided them with a true romantic fairy tale.’
    Without looking up, Eva gave a little huff of disbelief and began to scratch at the arm of the sofa, making patterns of what looked like love-hearts. ‘And who is the heroine in this fabricated tale?’
    Dante smiled. The half smile that never failed to make women weak at the knees and tumble backward onto a satin drenched mattress.
    ‘You are, tesoro. ’

CHAPTER THREE
    E VA’S HEAD SNAPPED up so fast a spasm shot up the side of her neck and exploded in her ear.
    ‘ What ? Are you crazy ?’
    Fairy tales? Her and... Dante ?
    He hitched those broad muscular shoulders, all lazy insolence, and the dark silk lapels of his jacket rippled over the stark white shirt adorning his chest. ‘It’s perfect,’ he said.
    Perfect. He was perfect. From his yummy, thick, overlong tousled hair all the way down to his high-sheen voguish shoes. Perfect to look at. Detestable inside. A bit like Christmas cake.
    Her mouth worked around words, trying to free her stunned vocal cords. How dare he? How dare he!
    He , who just stood there. Wielding a half smile that was nothing short of a weapon of mass female destruction sending her body into nuclear meltdown. A smile that said roll over and take it .
    Then there was that arch of one sleek dark brow. Expectant. As if waiting for her to thank him. For what, exactly? Digging her a bigger hole to bury herself in?
    ‘Let me get this straight. You’ve told the press that you’ve fallen in love with me ,’ she said, jabbing her index finger into her chest before turning it back on him. ‘To save your business deal?’
    ‘ Sì. And your deal with the next Duchess.’
    His words tore at the tower of her indignation, making it wobble precariously. Would Prudence West be pacified by such a story? She supposed a woman in love, about to marry the man of her dreams, would understand such a predicament.
    ‘But we’d have to feign a relationship,’ she said, sounding horrified even to her own ears. ‘In public.’ She couldn’t do it. It would kill her. Bad enough he was in her apartment. Touching things. Sucking the pleasure she’d always gained from her soothing space and replacing it with wretched visual pictures sure to taunt her for days. But what was worse, far worse, was that while she’d been counting down the minutes until he would leave, he’d been planning on staying for the foreseeable future. With her. A woman he abhorred. So really, ‘Who would ever believe us?’
    ‘It is done, Eva. Everyone already believes,’ he said, his voice hardening to steel. The self-satisfied look of earlier being replaced by dark irascibility.
    Understanding dawned. He actually expected