Purchased: His Perfect Wife. HELEN BIANCHIN
me first. The restaurant is operating on minimum staff. I have to be there. There’s no one else to take my place at such short notice.’
Wolfe’s gaze narrowed. ‘Find someone.’
‘Sure.’ Her eyes blazed a brilliant blue. ‘I’ll just wave a magic wand and, poof, a sous chef will appear out of nowhere, ready to start—’ she checked her watch ‘—in half an hour.’
His expression didn’t change, and the smooth silkiness in his voice held a silent warning. ‘Take care of it, Lara.’
‘Or you will?’
One eyebrow lifted in silent cynicism. ‘Yes.’
Time out for a deep breath or three. ‘Hiring someone,’ she managed with attempted calm, ‘is my responsibility.’
‘Make it a priority. A celebrant will conduct our marriage on Sunday morning, after which we fly to New York.’
Her stomach executed a quick somersault and refused to settle. ‘Excuse me?’
Wolfe leaned back in his chair and regarded her steadily. ‘You heard.’
The nerves deep inside pulled tight almost to the point of pain, and she pushed her plate aside. ‘Do I have a choice?’
‘No.’
Succinct, adamant and spoken with an indolence that made her wary.
‘Why? My presence in New York will be totally unnecessary. You’ll be wheeling and dealing by day, and—’
‘Sharing your bed at night.’
Did hearts stop? She was willing to swear hers had. What was more, for several long seconds it seemed her whole body shut down. Then she remembered to breathe.
‘Payback time,’ she managed. ‘How could I have forgotten?’
‘Should I be flattered or flattened?’
Lara summoned a deliberate smile. ‘Flattened, definitely.’
His faint laughter sent goosebumps scudding down her spine. A reaction she refused to examine in any detail.
In order to survive, living with Wolfe would mean adopting a façade. Something she shouldn’t find too difficult, given she’d had practice presenting a sociable mask on the occasion she’d found herself in Wolfe’s presence.
‘Finish your coffee.’ He checked his watch. ‘We need to leave.’ Without a further word he crossed to the console and collected a set of keys.
She wanted to protest, and almost did. Except one look into those dark grey eyes was sufficient warning she couldn’t win.
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