“Would you prefer me to do it?”
She blanched. “No, thank you very much. I appreciate the offer but believe me, they know I’d never marry a guy who tried to speak for me.”
“Good.” More approval, then his eyes began to inspect her, slowly, just once, but it was enough to set a fire going in her blood.
“Matthieu,” she said, urgently, with no idea what she was going to say, only that she needed him to stop looking at her like that.
“Yes?” The word was quiet, almost hissed from between his teeth.
“I don’t know if I have anything to wear. I mean, look at you.” She gestured to him with a grimace. “No one is going to believe this.”
“You could wear a hessian sack and look fine,” he said with impatience.
“A hessian sack and this billion-carat ring?” She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think they’d match.”
“It’s only five carats.”
“Five carats.” She stared at him, then groped for the chair, sitting down on a long exhalation.
“I told you, it’s what people will expect.”
“I feel like…It’s more than…I mean…this is just so extravagant.”
He lifted his shoulders. “Just wear it for the pictures then put it in the safe, if you’d prefer.”
She groaned. “No, that won’t do. But no one is ever going to believe this is legit, Matthieu. There must be someone else…”
“There’s not.”
She closed her eyes on a wave of desperation. He was dangling all the carrots, she just needed to be brave enough to reach for one. When she opened her eyes, it was to find Matthieu crouched in front of her, and the imagery was so powerful, so compelling, and so close to a proposal gesture that she startled. “Stop worrying.”
She nodded uneasily. “I’ll try.”
His expression didn’t shift. “From this moment on, you are my fiancé. To all the world, this is real. You must act like it.”
“And how should your fiancé act?”
“Like you belong here.” He squeezed her hands. “Like you know you belong, here and with me. Stop apologizing, stop looking nervous, and enjoy the experience.”
She offered him a wry smile. “Because I’m your fiancé?”
“No, cherie. Because this is a means to an end. Once our engagement ends, you can return home, significantly wealthier. Your dreams will come true.”
“I know that.” She tilted her head to the side. “That’s the only reason I agreed to this.”
“Is it?” He was so close. She was conscious of him on every level.
“What other reason would there be?” She prompted uneasily.
“To help put an old man’s mind at rest at the end of his life?”
“That too,” she agreed after a beat.
“You’re very kind.”
She pulled her lips to the side. “It’s a lie though, remember? I don’t know if that makes us kind or cruel.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. My grandparents are my problem.”
“Yes,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the diamond. As she looked at it, Matthieu moved his fingers over the gem, the touch searing something deep in her soul. She shivered, wondering at the sense of desire that sheared through her.
“Excellent.” He stayed right where he was a moment longer and then stood, hands on hips as he looked down at her. Skye tilted her face, conscious of the height and size different between them, conscious of the way she wanted him to kneel back down and touch her once more. “Gerald will take you to my place. I’ll pick you up sometime after eight.”
She hesitated a moment, nerves jangling inside of her. “The thing is, Matthieu, I’m obviously not your usual type. I’m not glamorous or sophisticated or beautiful or sensual or any of the qualities someone like you probably looks for.” Before he could say anything reassuring, she pushed on. “So if you want me to go out and buy a whole new wardrobe, just say the word and I will. I won’t be offended by the request.”
“You’re down to earth and I like that. Don’t change a thing.” He turned away from her, moving towards the door and pulling it inwards. Now that her nerves had settled, she was aware of the receptionist who angled her face with undisguised curiosity, studying Skye from long, dark lashes. A chill ran through Skye’s veins. The other woman’s expression didn’t change but Skye felt the emotions emanating from waves: you’re not welcome.
She met the other woman’s look with an unwavering expression, projecting confidence she didn’t feel. After all, Skye had plenty of practice with this. All through high school, she’d been forced into the spotlight, courtesy of her sisters. She knew how to act as though she was oblivious to other people’s judgement.
But that didn’t mean this was going to be easy. If anything, she expected it to be quite the reverse.