The Magnate's Mail-Order Bride. Joanne Rock
at least had the decency to apologize before he made his escape.” Quinn had already texted his pilot to reschedule his own flight, a delay that would add to the considerable expense of closing this deal that might never happen anyhow.
He held the door for Sofia and flagged the first limo he spotted, handing off her luggage to the driver to stow. The wind plastered her cape to Quinn’s legs, bringing with it the faint scent of a subtle perfume.
“He did apologize.” She tucked the mohair wrap tighter around herself, waiting on the curb while the driver opened the door and she relayed the address of her apartment. “He told me he was sorry right before he assured me you’d take care of everything.” She slid to the far side of the vehicle, distancing herself from him. “Tell me, Quinn, how often do you step in to claim his discarded fiancées?”
He understood that she was frustrated, so he told himself not to be defensive.
“This would be a first,” he replied lightly, taking the seat on the opposite side of the limo. “I tried to talk him out of hunting for a wife in this drastic manner, but he was determined.”
The driver was already behind the wheel and steering the vehicle toward the exit. Darkness had fallen while they were inside the terminal.
“It would not have been so awkward if there hadn’t been any media present.” She seemed to relax a bit as she leaned deeper into the leather seat, pulling the pink scarf off her neck to wrap it around one hand. “Then again, maybe it would have been since I had the rest of the dance ensemble with me and there are those who would love nothing more than a chance to undermine my position in the company.”
“Your father told me that you were recently promoted to principal.” He only had a vague knowledge of the ballet, having attended a handful of events for social purposes. “Does that always put a target on a dancer’s back?”
“Only if your name is mentioned for a highly sought-after part in a new ballet to premiere next year. Or if you rise through the ranks too quickly. Or if your father sponsors a gala fund-raiser and angles for you to be featured prominently in the program.” She wound the scarf around her other hand, weaving it through her fingers. “Then, no matter how talented you are, the rumor persists that you only achieved your position because of money.”
In the glow from the streetlights, he watched her delicate wrists as she anxiously fumbled with the scarf. She hadn’t been this skittish back in the airport. Did he make her nervous? Or was she only allowing herself the show of nerves now that she was out of the spotlight?
He found himself curious about her even though he should be focusing on the details of their brief, pretend engagement and not ruminating on her life. Her kiss.
“You move in a competitive world.” It was something he understood from the business he managed outside of McNeill Resorts since his bigger income stream came from his work as a hedge fund manager. His every financial move was watched and dissected by his rivals and second-guessed by nervous investors.
“The competition led me to hire a PR firm at my own expense, which is costly, considering a dancer’s salary. But they secured the feature for me in Dance magazine.”
He had no idea what a professional ballerina earned, but the idea that she’d hired a publicity firm suggested a strong investment in her career. Quinn found it intriguing that she would pay for that herself considering her father’s wealth.
That wasn’t all he found intriguing. The spike of attraction he felt for her—a heat that had intensified with that kiss—surprised him. He’d been adamantly opposed to his grandfather’s marriage ultimatum and yet he’d found himself jumping into the fray today to claim Sofia for his own.
Not just for McNeill Resorts. Also so Cameron couldn’t have her.
As soon as he’d seen her today, he’d felt an undeniable sexual interest. No, hunger.
“I realize that my brother created an awkward situation and you have every right to be frustrated.”
“And yet you helped me out of a tricky situation when I was tongue-tied and nervous, so thank you for that.” She settled her hands in her lap and stared out the window at the businesses lining either side of Interstate 17 heading south toward Manhattan. “I have a difficult audition ahead of me and I know I wouldn’t have been able to focus on it if the debacle in the airport was the topic on everyone’s lips.” She gave him a half smile. “If I didn’t have a fiancé, everyone would badger me about what happened. But since I actually do? I don’t think anyone will quiz me about it. Sadly, my competitors are more interested in my failures than my successes.”
He understood. He just hoped her father would support her wishes regarding their charade.
“Yet tonight’s events leave you a loophole, Sofia, if you want to give a statement that you refused me.” He hadn’t thought about it until now, but just because he’d implied he was asking for her hand didn’t mean she would necessarily accept. “If you change your mind about this, I can have someone work on a statement for the press that expresses my admiration for you, my disappointment in your refusal—”
“Expedient for you, but not for me.” She tipped her head to the window, her expression weary. He noticed the pale purple shadows beneath her eyes. “Just because I issue a statement that says it’s over doesn’t mean there won’t be questions about my love life given the backstabbing in my company this season. An abrupt breakup when everyone wants a story could make the press start digging into how we met. And until I know the truth about where Cameron got my contact information, I’m not comfortable letting the media look too closely at how we connected. I never wanted anything to do with a matchmaker, and I’m concerned that whoever my father hired posted my information in a misleading way. I don’t understand why your brother thought I was Ukrainian. Or why he didn’t know I was a dancer.”
“We could work on a cover story—”
“I am exhausted and my body thinks it’s midnight after the time I spent in Kiev. I have rehearsal tomorrow at ten and what I need is sleep, not a late-night study session to keep a cover story straight.” She folded her arms and squared her shoulders, as if readying herself for an argument.
Did she realize how many complications would arise if they continued this fictional engagement? He’d really thought she would jump at the chance to say she’d turned down his proposal. But then again, he couldn’t deny a surge of desire at the prospect of seeing her again.
“I’m willing to continue with the appearance of an engagement if that’s simpler for you.” He wanted to right the mess Cameron had made. And this time, it wasn’t for Cameron’s sake.
It was for Sofia’s.
“It would be easier for me.” She twisted some of her windblown blond hair behind her ear and he noticed a string of five tiny pearls outlining the curve. “Just for three more weeks. A month, at most, until the rumor mill in my company settles down. I need to get through that important audition.”
She glanced his way for the first time in miles and caught him staring.
“Of course,” he agreed, mentally recalibrating his schedule to accommodate a woman in his life. He would damn well hand off the trip to Kiev to Cameron or Ian since Quinn would need to remain in New York. “In that case, maybe we should draw up a contract outlining the terms of the arrangement.”
With Vitaly Koslov threatening to block his business in Eastern Europe, Quinn needed to handle this as carefully as he would any complicated foreign acquisition.
“Is that wise?” Frowning, she withdrew a tin of mints from her leather satchel and fished a couple out, offering him one. “A paper trail makes it easier for someone to discover our secret.”
He took a mint, his eye drawn to her mouth as her lips parted. He found himself thinking about that kiss again. The way she’d tasted like mint then, too. And how an engagement would lead to more opportunities to touch her. The idea of a fake fiancée didn’t feel like an imposition when he