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“I’ve made a decision,” he says, sliding behind his desk like an inaccessible boss and taking his seat.
Okay, we’ve got a read on the mood, and it’s Arctic.
I don’t let that bother me. After all, I’m here to serve. I sit up and put the book down on the glass table in front of me.
He continues. “We’ll be dining with Igor Vasiliev the night after tomorrow.”
So we’re definitely going there. But there must be something else he’s leading up to.
“Great,” I say. “Just let me know how you want me to dress and what I should and shouldn’t discuss during the meal. I already learned my lesson about saying too much.”
He seems pleased by my answer, but he’s still cool. “Since I can’t put anything to chance with Igor, we’ll be having rehearsals, so to speak.”
Ah. This was what he was building up to.
Sudden thoughts of an old musical I saw with my parents, My Fair Lady, clutter the front of my mind. “Am I going to be schooled in the art of being a lady?”
“A girlfriend. My girlfriend. But, more to the point, we need to seem as if we’re a real couple. If we can carry that off, I’m certain I can cement the deal with Igor to do business with him in Russia.”
My heart falls a little. Cementing the deal means having my “relationship” with Cage come to an end. But it’s not all bad, right? That means I’ll have my money—plus some extra—and I’ll get Liam off my back for good. No more texts, no more worries about keeping my secret.
“I’m game,” I say. “What does ‘rehearsing’ entail?”
“Not much more than it did when Igor saw us going out for ice cream.” Cage is so confident, as if he’s thought all of this through. “For the next couple of nights, we appear in town, dine together, smile in each other’s company, then have that dinner with him. It’s just a matter of sticking to an act.”
“Basically, we pretend to be significant others for the next couple of days and I don’t say anything to mess it up.”
“Precisely.”
I should be ecstatic at the thought of being wined and dined by an incredibly handsome billionaire who’ll pull out all the stops for me, but it seems so…empty.
Even so, I smile at him. “I’m all in. Just tell me which lesson comes first, Professor Higgins.”
From the slight, professional smile on Cage’s face, I know he gets my vintage reference to My Fair Lady.
But the darkness I see in his eyes is as ruthless as I’ve ever seen.