his throat, the dark hairs sprinkling his chest below. She jerked her gaze away from the sight.
‘You don’t know me,’ she stated firmly. ‘At all. Because if you did, you’d know I’d never agree to something like this.’
‘Which is why I didn’t ask you, so perhaps I do know you after all.’
‘You don’t,’ she insisted. He was close enough to breathe in, to feel his heat. If she reached one hand out she could place a palm on his chest, feel the crisp cotton of his shirt, the steady thud of his heart, the flex of his powerful muscles...
Hannah drew her breath in sharply, horrified by the nature of her thoughts. What kind of sorcerer was Luca Moretti, to weave this spell over her so easily?
‘I think I do,’ Luca murmured. He stood right in front of her, his gaze roving over her, searching, finding, feeling as intimate as a caress. ‘I know you drink your coffee with milk and two sugars, although you pretend you have it black.’
‘What...?’ Her breath came out in a rush. It was such a little thing, but he was right. She added the sugar when she was alone because she was self-conscious about taking it. Every working woman in London seemed to drink their coffee black and eat lettuce leaves for lunch.
Somehow she managed to rally. ‘That’s not very much,’ she scoffed.
‘I’m only beginning,’ Luca answered. ‘I know you look at travel blogs on your lunch break. I know you have an incredible work ethic but you seem embarrassed by it sometimes. I know you’re determined to be cheerful but sometimes, when you think no one is looking, you seem sad.’
Hannah drew a deep breath, too shocked to respond or even to blush. How had he seen all these things? How did he know?
‘And,’ Luca finished softly as he turned away, ‘I know there is someone in your life named Jamie whom you care about very much.’
She stiffened. ‘Well done, Sherlock,’ she managed. ‘You’re obviously very perceptive, but it doesn’t change what I think—that this is wrong, and you never should have forced me into this position.’
Luca turned back to her, the warmth she’d just seen in his eyes evaporated, leaving only chilly darkness. ‘How exactly,’ he asked, his voice dangerously soft, ‘did I force you?’
‘It’s not as if you gave me a choice,’ Hannah exclaimed. ‘Introducing me as your fiancée! What was I supposed to do, tell them you were a liar?’
He shrugged, the movement elegant, muscles rippling underneath his shirt. ‘You could have done.’ He lifted his gaze to hers, those dark, cold eyes so penetrating. ‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Because...’
‘Because?’ Luca prompted softly.
‘It would have been very awkward,’ Hannah said. ‘For both of us.’
‘What’s a little awkwardness?’
‘You might have fired me—’
He arched an eyebrow. ‘And be sued for sexual harassment?’
‘I could already sue you for that,’ Hannah dared to suggest. Luca’s eyes narrowed.
‘And then you really would lose your job, just as I would lose mine.’
She swallowed. ‘You could have paid me off.’
The smile he gave her was cynical and hard. ‘Is that what you’re suggesting?’
‘No.’ Appalled, Hannah wondered how on earth they’d pursued this line of conversation. She wasn’t going to sue him, even if part of her inwardly railed that she should, that Luca Moretti deserved everything he had coming to him, including a whole lot of awkwardness.
‘I don’t want money,’ she informed him stiffly. ‘I simply don’t want to be in this position, and I resent that you put me in it. Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘Because you would have refused.’
She stared at his calm expression, his hard eyes. He stood before her, arrogant and assured, utterly unrepentant. ‘You don’t have a shred of remorse, do you?’ she asked wonderingly.
‘No,’ Luca agreed, ‘I don’t. Because if you let go of your huffy indignation for a moment, Hannah, you’ll realise I’m not asking very much of you.’
‘You’re asking me to lie.’
‘And you’ve never lied before?’
She bit her lip. ‘Of course, everyone’s lied, but this is different—’
‘Andrew Tyson is putting unreasonable expectations on the real-estate developer who buys his precious resorts,’ Luca cut across her flatly. ‘I know I’m the best man for the job, and I shouldn’t have to be married to be selected. The injustice is his, not mine.’
‘How many other developers are bidding on it?’
‘Two, and they’re both married.’
Somehow she found the temerity to joke. ‘You weren’t tempted to say I was your wife?’
‘I was tempted,’ Luca admitted. ‘But I figured that would be too hard to pull off.’
‘How pragmatic of you,’ Hannah murmured. Her mind was still spinning but some of her self-righteous fury had deflated. She didn’t know whether it was simply the awesome force of Luca’s personality or because she actually sympathised with him a little. Or maybe it was because she was just too tired to keep it up.
Slowly she walked to a cream divan positioned in an alcove and sank onto its soft seat. ‘So how do you propose—no pun intended—to make this work? Not,’ she informed him with swift asperity, ‘that I’m actually thinking of going along with this idea.’
‘Of course not,’ Luca murmured. Hannah watched, mesmerised, as he tugged off his tie and then began to unbutton his shirt.
‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked.
‘Changing. We’re due for cocktails in less than an hour.’
‘Can’t you use the bathroom?’ She nodded towards the door that led to what looked like a sumptuous en suite.
‘Why should I?’ Luca’s smile was wicked. ‘We’re engaged to be married, after all.’
‘You’re impossible.’ Hannah closed her eyes against the sight of Luca shrugging off his shirt. Even so she’d had a glimpse of bronzed, burnished skin, rippling muscles, and crisp, dark hair that veed down to the waistband of his trousers.
‘You’re not the first person to say so,’ Luca answered. She could hear him undressing and even with her eyes closed she could imagine it, picture him kicking off his trousers, revealing long, muscular legs, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, perhaps in navy satin...
Good grief, but she needed to get a grip. Hannah took a deep breath. ‘So you still haven’t told me how this is going to work.’
‘We’re going to act like we’re engaged. Simple.’
‘Simple?’ She opened her eyes to glare at Luca; he stood across the room, buckling the belt on a pair of grey trousers. His chest was still gloriously bare. ‘It’s not simple, Luca. We’re not engaged. We barely know each other. If someone asks either one of us anything about our relationship or how we met, we’ll have no idea what to say.’
‘It’s best to keep as close to the truth as possible,’ Luca advised as he reached for a light blue shirt and shrugged into it. ‘You’re still my PA.’
‘And we just happen to be engaged. Convenient.’
He shot her a quick, hard smile. ‘It is, isn’t it? Now you should get ready. We’re due to meet Tyson for cocktails shortly.’