What The Magnate Wants: The Magnate's Mail-Order Bride / The Magnate's Marriage Merger / His Accidental Heir. Joanne Rock
Checking the screen, she realized the incoming texts weren’t from curious colleagues or her father.
Half were from the publicity firm she’d hired. The other half were from the ballet mistress. A quick scan of the content told her they were all concerned about the same thing—social media speculation had suggested she wasn’t serious about the Fortier ballet and was focusing on her personal life. She felt her muscles tighten and tense as if she were reading a review of a subpar performance, the stress twisting along her shoulders and squeezing her temples.
“Is everything all right?” Quinn’s voice seemed distant compared to the imagined shout of the all-caps text messages.
“You were right. News of our engagement traveled quickly.” Swallowing hard, she set the phone on an antique cabinet near the door. “My publicist urged me to wear an engagement band tomorrow to forestall questions until she writes the press release.” Anger blazed through her in a fresh wave, shaking her out of her exhaustion. “It is a sad statement on my achievements that a lifetime of hard work is overshadowed by a rich man’s proposal.”
She wrenched off her scarf and fumbled with the buttons on her cape, anger making her movements stiff.
“It’s because of your achievements that anyone is interested in your private life,” Quinn reminded her quietly, reaching for the oversize buttons and freeing them.
She might have protested his sudden nearness, but in an instant he was already behind her, lifting the mohair garment from her shoulders to hang it on the wrought-iron coatrack.
“It still isn’t fair,” she fumed, although she could feel some of her anger leaking away as Quinn’s words sank into her agitated mind. He had a point. A surprisingly thoughtful one. “No man would ever be badgered to wear a wedding ring to quiet his colleagues about his romantic status.”
“No.” He dug into his coat pocket and took out the small, dark box that had caused such havoc at Teterboro. “But since you’ve been put in a tremendously awkward position, maybe we should see what Cameron had in mind for his proposal.”
He held out the box. The absurdity of the night struck her again as she stared at it. Who would have suspected when she boarded her plane in Kiev so many hours ago that she would be negotiating terms of an engagement with a total stranger in her apartment before bedtime?
“Why not? It’s not like I’m going to be able to sleep now with all this to worry me.” Shrugging, she backed deeper into her apartment, flipping on a metal floor lamp arching over the black leather sofa. “Come in, if you like. I haven’t been home in three weeks so it feels nice to see my own things. I’m glad to be home even if it has been a crazy day.”
She gestured toward the couch, taking a seat on the vintage steamer trunk that served as a coffee table.
“Only for a minute.” He didn’t remove his coat, but he did drop down onto the black leather seat. “I know you must be ready for bed.” Their eyes connected for the briefest of moments before he glanced back at the ring box. “But let’s take a look.”
He levered open the black-velvet top to reveal a ring that took her breath away.
Quinn whistled softly. “You’re sure you never met my brother before today?”
“Positive.” Her hand reached for the ring without her permission, the emerald-cut diamond glowing like a crystal ball lit from within. A halo of small diamonds surrounded the central one, and the double band glittered with still more of them. “It can’t possibly be real with so many diamonds. Although it looks like platinum.”
“It is platinum.” He sounded certain. “My brother goes all-in when he makes a statement.” Gently he pried the ring from the box. “And given how much trouble his statement caused you today, I think it’s only fair you wear it tomorrow.”
Dropping the box onto the couch cushion, he held the ring in one hand and took her palm in the other. The shock of his warm fingers on her skin caught her off guard.
“I can’t wear that.” She sat across from him, their knees bumping while his thumb rested in the center of her palm.
Awareness sparked deep inside her, a light, leaping feeling like a perfectly executed cabriolé jump. Her heart beat faster.
A slow smile stretched across Quinn’s face, transforming his features from ruggedly handsome to swoon-worthy.
“We agreed on an engagement. Don’t you think it makes more sense to use the ring we have than to go shopping for a new one?”
The insinuation that she was being impractical helped her to see past that dazzling smile.
“I never would have guessed your brother would spend a small fortune on a ring for a woman he never met.” She edged out of his grip. “I thought he was a romantic, not completely certifiable.”
Quinn’s smile faded. “I assure you, Cameron is neither.” He set the ring on the steamer trunk beside her. “I’ll let you decide whether or not to wear it in the morning. And in the meantime, I’d better let you get some rest.”
He rose to his feet, leaving a priceless piece of jewelry balanced on last month’s Vogue.
“Quinn.” She stood to follow him to the door then reached back to grab the ring so she could return it. “Please. I don’t feel right keeping this here.”
He turned to face her as he reached the door, but made no move to take the glittering ring.
“If you were my bride-to-be, I would spare no expense to show the world you were mine.” His blue eyes glowed with a warmth that had her remembering his kiss. Her breath caught in her chest and she wondered what it might be like for him to call her that for real.
Mine.
“I’m—” At a total loss for words. “That is—” She folded the diamond into her hand, squeezing it tightly so the stones pressed into her soft skin, distracting her from her hypnotic awareness of this man. “If you insist.”
“It’s a matter of believability, Sofia.”
“It’s only for one month.” She wasn’t sure if she said it to remind him or herself.
“We’ll work out the details tomorrow.” He reached to smooth a strand of hair from her forehead, barely touching her and still sending shimmers of pleasure along her temple and all the way down the back of her neck. “Sleep well.”
She didn’t even manage to get her voice working before he was out the door again, leaving her alone in a suddenly too empty apartment.
Squeezing the ring tighter in her fist, she waited for the pinch of pain from the sharp edges of the stones. She needed to remember that this wasn’t real. Quinn McNeill had only agreed to this mad scheme to clean up his brother’s mess. Any hint of attraction she felt needed to be squashed immediately, especially since Quinn was cut from the same mold as her father—focused on business and the accumulation of wealth. Her world was about art, emotions and human connections.
Her mother had taught her that people did not fall into both camps. In Sofia’s experience it was true. And since she wanted her own relationships to be meaningful bonds rooted in shared creativity and ideals, she was willing to wait until she had more time in her life to find the right partner. Romance could not be rushed.
“It’s only for a month,” she said aloud again, forcing herself to set the engagement ring on the hallway table.
Surely she could keep up her end of a fake engagement for the sake of appearances? She’d made countless sacrifices for her career, from dancing on broken toes to living away from her family on the other side of the globe to train with Russian ballet masters.
Ignoring the sensual draw of Quinn McNeill couldn’t possibly be more difficult than those challenges.
Yet, even as she marched herself off to bed, she feared she was lying to herself that she could keep her hands off the man anywhere