One Winter's Sunrise. Alison Roberts

One Winter's Sunrise - Alison Roberts


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shocked to speak. ‘Th...that’s coercion. Coercion of the most insidious kind,’ she finally managed to choke out.

      A whole lot more words she couldn’t express also tumbled around in her brain. Ruthless. Conniving. Heartless. And yet...he’d offered to help Timothy well before the fake fiancée thing. Not a Scrooge after all. She’d thought she’d been getting to know him—but Dominic Hunt was more of a mystery to her than ever.

      He drew his dark brows together. ‘Coercion? I wouldn’t go that far. But I did offer to help Timothy without any strings attached. Hannah refused. This way, she might accept. And your nephew will get the help he needs. I see it as a win-win scenario.’

      Andie realised she was twisting the leather thronging that laced together the front of her top and stopped it. Nothing in her life had equipped her to make this kind of decision. ‘You’re really putting me on the spot here. Asking me to lie and be someone I’m not—’

      ‘Someone you’re not? How does that work? You’d still be Andie.’

      She found it difficult to meet his direct, confronting gaze. Those observant grey eyes seemed to see more than she wanted him to. ‘You’re asking me to pretend to be...to pretend to be a woman in love. When...when I’m not.’ She’d only ever been in love once—and she didn’t want to trawl back in her memories to try and relive that feeling—love lost hurt way too much. She did have feelings for Dominic beyond the employer/contractor relationship—but they were more of the other ‘l’ word—lust rather than love.

      His eyes seemed to darken. ‘I suppose I am.’

      ‘And you too,’ she said. ‘You would have to pretend to be in love with...with me. And it would have to look darn authentic to be convincing.’

      This was why she was prevaricating. As soon as he’d mentioned Timothy, she knew she would have little choice but to agree. If it had been any other blackmailing billionaire she would probably have said “yes” straight away—living a lie for a month would be worth it for Timothy to get the treatment her family’s combined resources couldn’t afford.

      But not this man. How could she blithely pretend to be in love with a man she wanted as much as she wanted him? It would be some kind of torture.

      ‘I see,’ he said. Had he seriously not thought this through?

      ‘We would be playing with big emotions, here, Dominic. And other people would be affected too. My family thinks you hung the moon. They’d be delighted if we dated—a sudden engagement would both shock and worry them. At some stage I would have to introduce you to Anthony’s parents—they would be happy for me and want to meet you.’

      ‘I see where you’re going,’ he said, raking his hand through his hair once more in a gesture that was becoming familiar.

      She narrowed her eyes. ‘And yet...would it all be worth it for Hannah to accept your help for Timothy?’ She put up her hand to stop him from replying. ‘I’m thinking out loud here.’

      ‘And helping me achieve something I really want.’

      There must be something more behind his drive to get this American deal. She hoped she’d discover it one day, sooner rather than later. It might help her understand him.

      ‘You’ve backed me into a corner here, Dominic, and I can’t say I appreciate it. How can I say “no” to such an incredible opportunity for Timothy?’

      ‘Does that mean your answer is “yes”?’

      She tilted her chin upwards—determined not to capitulate too readily to something about which she still had serious doubts. ‘That’s an unusual way to put it, Dominic—rather like you’ve made me a genuine proposal.’

      Dominic pulled a face but it didn’t dull the glint of triumph in his eyes. He thought he’d won. But she was determined to get something out of this deal for herself too.

      Andie had no doubt if she asked for recompense—money, gifts—he’d give it to her. Dominic was getting what he wanted. Timothy would be getting what he so desperately needed. But what about her?

      She wasn’t interested in jewellery or fancy shopping. What she wanted was him. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to hold him and she very much wanted to make love with him. Not for fake—for real.

      There was a very good chance this arrangement would end in tears—her tears. But if she agreed to a fake engagement with this man, who attracted her like no other, she wanted what a fiancée might be expected to have—him. She thought, with a little shiver of desire, about what he’d said: pleasure all the way. She would be fine with that.

      ‘Would it help if I made it sound like a genuine proposal?’ he said, obviously bemused.

      That hurt. Because the way he spoke made it sound as if there was no way he would ever make a genuine proposal to her. Not that she wanted that—heck, she hardly knew the guy. But it put her on warning. Let’s be honest, she thought. She wanted him in her bed. But she also wanted to make darn sure she didn’t get hurt. This was just a business deal to him—nothing personal involved.

      ‘Do it,’ she said, pointing to the floor. ‘The full down-on-bended-knee thing.’

      ‘Seriously?’ he said, dark brows raised.

      ‘Yes,’ she said imperiously.

      He grinned. ‘Okay.’

      The tall, black denim-clad hunk obediently knelt down on one knee, took her left hand in both of his and looked up into her face. ‘Andie, will you do me the honour of becoming my fake fiancée?’ he intoned in that deep, so-sexy voice.

      Looking down at his roughly handsome face, Andie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Yes, I accept your proposal,’ she said in a voice that wasn’t quite steady.

      Dominic squeezed her hand hard as relief flooded his face. He got up from bended knee and for a moment she thought he might kiss her.

      ‘But there are conditions,’ she said, pulling away and letting go of his hand.

      ANDIE ALMOST LAUGHED out loud at Dominic’s perplexed expression. He was most likely used to calling the shots—in both business and his relationships. ‘Conditions?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes, conditions,’ she said firmly. ‘Come on over to the sofa and I’ll run through the list with you. I need to sit down; these heels aren’t good for pacing in.’ The polished concrete floor was all about looks rather than comfort.

      ‘Do I have any choice about these “conditions”?’ he grumbled.

      ‘I think you’ll see the sense in them,’ she said. This was not going to go all his way. There was danger in this game she’d been coerced into playing and she wanted to make sure she and her loved ones were not going to get hurt by it.

      She led him over to the red leather modular sofa in the living area. The apartment in an old converted factory warehouse was owned by one of her roommates and had been furnished stylishly with Andie’s help. She flopped down on the sofa, kicked off the leopard stilettos that landed in an animal print clash on the zebra-patterned floor rug, and patted the seat next to her.

      As Dominic sat down, his muscular thighs brushed against hers and she caught her breath until he settled at a not-quite-touching distance from her, his arm resting on the back of the sofa behind her. She had to close her eyes momentarily to deal with the rush of awareness from his already familiar scent, the sheer maleness of him in such close proximity.

      ‘I’m interested to hear what you say,’ he said, angling his powerful body towards her. He must work out a lot to have a chest like that. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to splay her hands against those hard muscles, to press her body against his.

      But


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