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Authors: Maisey Yates
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expression. “This is what I do. I’m good at it.”
“You always have been. That’s why I came to you.”
“That and the leverage.”
“A man can’t go into battle unarmed.”
A flicker of heat sparked in her eyes and he knew that she was replaying the kiss. So, she wasn’t unaffected. She hadn’t brushed it off. But she was right, she was an accomplished actress. She’d gotten even better, even harder to read since the beginning of their sham marriage. He had worried about her breaking character then. Even now, with the little spark visible in the depths of her eyes, he doubted anyone else would see anything beyond the cool, composed beauty she seemed to project. It would keep most people from looking deeper.
She was a petite blonde, well dressed, perfectly coiffed. She had a look that could easily become generic, and might be to some. It was her eyes that showed how different she was. That showed her intelligence, her steel.
She cleared her throat, tilted her chin up. “Well, I doubt anyone would accuse you of that.”
“I’m flattered by the assessment.”
“Don’t be, or I’ll have to punch you in the ego again.”
“I see, so you’re trying to knock me down a couple of pegs in an attempt to gain the upper hand. It won’t work. I’m happilyabsent an ego, in many ways. Social status means little to me. I haven’t tried to impress friends or women in so many years I can hardly remember why I ever bothered in the first place. Though, the forgetting could also be a side effect of my head injury.”
She shifted, her lips bunching together.
“You don’t like it when I joke about my accident?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It’s your trauma, man. Deal with it however you want.”
“I’ve dealt with it,” he said, his words coming out harsher than intended. Lies. “I’ve dealt with my father’s death, with trying to ensure my mother and sister are happy, well taken care of. And now, I’m dealing with fixing what has fallen into disrepair here at the company.”
“And I’m here to help you do it.” She arched her pale eyebrows. “Under sufferance, you understand, but I am here. And I am helping.”
For some reason, his entire body didn’t seize in response to the use of the word.
“You are.”
CHAPTER FIVE
H ANNAH leaned against the railing on the penthouse terrace and looked down at the city. The sky was dark, stars piercing holes in the blackness, and below, Barcelona was lit. Cars still crowded the road, people headed to restaurants and clubs.
She breathed in deep—warm air filling her lungs. She smelled salt, the sea, but it wasn’t the same as it was in San Francisco or New York. Here it seemed spicier, richer. It always had. It had always called to her in a different way. Begged her to strip off her control and let herself go free.
And she had always denied it.
“Having trouble sleeping?”
She turned, her heart catching when she saw Eduardo leaning in the doorway. He’d traded in his work attire for casual black pants and a tight T-shirt that hugged his muscular physique almost as tightly as she’d hugged him earlier in his office.
Don’t think about that.
She wouldn’t. Not again. That was over. Done. No more kissing. Not in private anyway.
“I’m still a little off. Jet lag and all.”
“Tell me, Hannah.”
Her throat tightened, strange, irrational fear assaulting her. “Tell you what?”
“Tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself these past five years.”
She almost sighed in relief. Five years she could do. “Working. I was in New York for about three years, working on Wall Street, of all things, then I relocated to San Francisco. I started to get a good client base at the firm I was with, doing personal financial management and investments. I hit a bit of a wall, though, because male bosses, coworkers and clients always seemed to think single meant available. So when I met Zack a year ago, it seemed perfect. I could get married, and I
“You always have been. That’s why I came to you.”
“That and the leverage.”
“A man can’t go into battle unarmed.”
A flicker of heat sparked in her eyes and he knew that she was replaying the kiss. So, she wasn’t unaffected. She hadn’t brushed it off. But she was right, she was an accomplished actress. She’d gotten even better, even harder to read since the beginning of their sham marriage. He had worried about her breaking character then. Even now, with the little spark visible in the depths of her eyes, he doubted anyone else would see anything beyond the cool, composed beauty she seemed to project. It would keep most people from looking deeper.
She was a petite blonde, well dressed, perfectly coiffed. She had a look that could easily become generic, and might be to some. It was her eyes that showed how different she was. That showed her intelligence, her steel.
She cleared her throat, tilted her chin up. “Well, I doubt anyone would accuse you of that.”
“I’m flattered by the assessment.”
“Don’t be, or I’ll have to punch you in the ego again.”
“I see, so you’re trying to knock me down a couple of pegs in an attempt to gain the upper hand. It won’t work. I’m happilyabsent an ego, in many ways. Social status means little to me. I haven’t tried to impress friends or women in so many years I can hardly remember why I ever bothered in the first place. Though, the forgetting could also be a side effect of my head injury.”
She shifted, her lips bunching together.
“You don’t like it when I joke about my accident?” he asked.
She shrugged. “It’s your trauma, man. Deal with it however you want.”
“I’ve dealt with it,” he said, his words coming out harsher than intended. Lies. “I’ve dealt with my father’s death, with trying to ensure my mother and sister are happy, well taken care of. And now, I’m dealing with fixing what has fallen into disrepair here at the company.”
“And I’m here to help you do it.” She arched her pale eyebrows. “Under sufferance, you understand, but I am here. And I am helping.”
For some reason, his entire body didn’t seize in response to the use of the word.
“You are.”
CHAPTER FIVE
H ANNAH leaned against the railing on the penthouse terrace and looked down at the city. The sky was dark, stars piercing holes in the blackness, and below, Barcelona was lit. Cars still crowded the road, people headed to restaurants and clubs.
She breathed in deep—warm air filling her lungs. She smelled salt, the sea, but it wasn’t the same as it was in San Francisco or New York. Here it seemed spicier, richer. It always had. It had always called to her in a different way. Begged her to strip off her control and let herself go free.
And she had always denied it.
“Having trouble sleeping?”
She turned, her heart catching when she saw Eduardo leaning in the doorway. He’d traded in his work attire for casual black pants and a tight T-shirt that hugged his muscular physique almost as tightly as she’d hugged him earlier in his office.
Don’t think about that.
She wouldn’t. Not again. That was over. Done. No more kissing. Not in private anyway.
“I’m still a little off. Jet lag and all.”
“Tell me, Hannah.”
Her throat tightened, strange, irrational fear assaulting her. “Tell you what?”
“Tell me what you’ve been doing with yourself these past five years.”
She almost sighed in relief. Five years she could do. “Working. I was in New York for about three years, working on Wall Street, of all things, then I relocated to San Francisco. I started to get a good client base at the firm I was with, doing personal financial management and investments. I hit a bit of a wall, though, because male bosses, coworkers and clients always seemed to think single meant available. So when I met Zack a year ago, it seemed perfect. I could get married, and I
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