Page 33 of Ace of Hearts

Levi

June

Las Vegas, USA

“ You have such beautiful skin!”

I smile politely in reply, not knowing what to say. In the mirror, two seats farther along, Rose grins mockingly at me, and I instinctively smile back.

We haven’t really had an opportunity to discuss what happened before ... everything. The two of us, on my bed, half-naked. Her coming against my mouth. We haven’t had any time alone to talk.

At first, I thought she was avoiding me. I was worried she’d be scared off by my revelations from that night. But it seems I underestimated her yet again. She took everything in, digested it, accepted it all.

“Have you done an interview on camera before?” the makeup artist asks as she retouches my lips.

“This is our first official appearance together.”

Our Glamour interview, which is going to be called “Levi Ivanovich and his Fiancée Take a Love Test,” has been moved up because of my busy schedule.

This is the only day when I’m not playing.

The adjustment means that we haven’t had time to prepare our replies, but Rose assures me it’ll be fine and reminds me we’ve managed fine so far just by improvising.

“Something tells me we’re going to have fun!” she cackles, rubbing her hands together as the team leads us to the studio.

“That isn’t exactly reassuring.”

I rest one hand in the curve of her waist, trying to push away memories of her naked body arching over me. I still can’t believe it really happened; the memory seems strangely like a dream.

In the studio, a crowd of people bustles about. Technicians, stylists, makeup artists, camera operators, interpreters ... it’s a lot of people to have all in one place.

I glance at the backdrop: a plain white canvas. No other décor. The journalist Li Mei mentioned gives us an enthusiastic wave and comes over, smiling broadly. She briefly explains how it’s all going to work.

“Try to be as natural as possible. Look straight at the camera. And above all, avoid turning your back on us. And thank you for being here today; we can’t wait to see how it turns out! You look so good together!”

I glance at Rose and raise my eyebrows, but she rolls her eyes.

They give us microphones, which we hide under our clothes; then someone sits me down alone in the middle of the white backdrop.

Rose remains standing near the camera, her arms crossed and laughter in her eyes.

Suddenly, I feel very ill-at-ease. Too many people staring at me. I don’t like it.

I fix my eyes on Rose and don’t look away. I concentrate on her and nothing else as the interview begins.

“Tell us about the moment you first met. What was your first impression of Rose? How did your relationship develop after that?”

They’re plunging straight in. A grin starts to appear on my pretend fiancée’s face. I don’t even have time to invent a lie, so I choose honesty.

“The first time I saw her was in a casino,” I say, completely naturally. “She was watching the game going on at my table. I looked up and saw her, and I was immediately struck by her beauty, of course. I asked her to play a game with me, which she did. And she beat me hands down.”

I smile at her pleased expression. It feels so long ago ... but it was only a few weeks.

“My first impression? I found her intriguing. Intelligent. Conceited too. I thought ... I’d found someone like me. A twin soul, maybe? Unfortunately, she slipped through my fingers that evening, but I did everything I could to find her again. I thought it was fate.”

Her smile fades as she drinks in my words from the other side of the room. I realize I don’t even need to lie. I believe every word I’m saying.

“It wasn’t easy at first. I think we were both on our guard, scared of getting hurt. But we tamed each other in the end. Now ...,” I say, looking straight into her eyes, “she’s one of only five people in the world who know everything there is to know about me. I trust her completely.”

I would have thought that would be difficult to say, but strangely it isn’t. I think ... I really believe it. Rose blinks, thrown off-balance, and looks away. They ask her to swap places with me and answer the same questions.

I watch her from a distance, stunning in her flowered corset. She tells them that she wanted to bleed me dry at poker so that she could buy herself a pair of new shoes, which makes everyone laugh.

“My first impression of him ...? To be honest, I didn’t like him,” she says, making a face. I raise an indignant eyebrow. “He was too ... rich. Too handsome. Too arrogant. Every time I was near him, I felt I was losing control. I think ... he annoyed me because he seemed better than me.”

Oh. I frown in surprise. I’d never have guessed she felt that way, or that she’d admit it in front of the cameras.

“But as time went on, I realized I was wrong, and that we were equals. Being near Levi ... makes me feel safe. When I’m with him, I can drop the mask. I can be myself without fear of judgment. He makes me feel ... important.”

Boom boom .

I resist the urge to put my hand to my heart, which is suddenly beating faster. What she just said ... is exactly how I feel.

When she’s finished, they ask me to join her. I smile serenely as I go and stand opposite her. The next exercise is to embrace each other for a full minute.

“Come here,” I say, opening my arms wide.

She shakes her head teasingly, but I move closer and lift her up in my arms.

“That’s not hugging,” she complains, her hands on my shoulders.

I release her, letting her body slide down mine, and her smile fades as her feet touch the ground again. Her body is glued to mine. Images from the other evening in my bedroom flash through my mind. If her face is anything to go by, she’s thinking about the same thing.

I smile and put my arms around her. She matches my movement and wraps her arms around my waist, her cheek against my pounding heart.

I think it’s the first time we’ve ever embraced like this. It’s ... far more intimate than I’d ever imagined. I can feel her heartbeat, in harmony with mine. I nestle my mouth against her neck, hidden under her hair, which has a faint scent of almond, and whisper, “You smell good.”

She shudders against me but doesn’t say anything. I calm her with a kiss on her neck and shift my position so I can join my hands at the base of her back.

We’re turning round and round, as though slow dancing without music, which makes her laugh. The sound resonates against my heart and calms me down too. I don’t know what gets into me, but I lift one of my hands to cradle the back of her head.

“You wouldn’t know it to look at you, but you give great hugs,” she says as I stroke her hair gently.

“Of course. Your future husband is perfect.”

“My future husband wears blue jackets without even realizing.”

I nibble her ear in retaliation, which makes her laugh.

The minute is up too soon for my liking, and we pull apart as though everything that just happened was completely normal. I immediately wish I could be close to her again. I’m dying to kiss her, but the journalist interrupts us.

The next exercise is harder than the first two. We’re each given a sheet of paper and a pen, and they ask us to write a list of compliments, things we like about one another.

I think for a few seconds, then start to write, the words flowing easily. Rose doesn’t move, her pen suspended in midair. I see her leaning toward me, trying to see what I’m writing, but I hide my paper with my hand. “Hey, no cheating.”

“But this is hard . . .”

“Thanks a lot! You’d better invent something, fast. I expect to be hit by a wave of compliments about my incredible physique and awesome intelligence, understood?”

She glares at me, wrinkling up her adorable little nose into an angry expression. “You’re so stingy! You could at least slip me a few hints ...”

“I’ve just given you some ideas!”

“All things intended to feed your ego! No way,” she laughs, rolling her eyes.

After several minutes, she finally manages to write down a few words. My sheet of paper is so covered with ink, my wrist hurts. When the journalist tells us it’s time to read them aloud, Rose closes her eyes in despair.

I volunteer to go first, to help her out, and she thanks me with her eyes.

“Rose ... The truth is that I admire you,” I say, unable to keep the warmth from my gaze as I look at her.

“I genuinely think you’re a force of nature.

You’re aware of your faults, but you never impose them on other people.

You don’t use them as excuses. You overcome them, alone and bravely.

I love your determination. Your independence.

The way you tackle life with honesty and courage.

You look as though you aren’t afraid of anything, even though you sometimes are afraid.

You make me laugh, especially when you think I’m not watching you.

You understand me like hardly anyone does.

You’ve got a great sense of style too. My friends adore you. You’re smart. Mature. My equal.”

It’s a lot more than I’d written. I’m afraid I may have gone a bit too far. I clear my throat, holding my hands behind my back. Rose was biting her lip as she listened to me, avoiding my gaze. She looks embarrassed. I’m sure she thinks this is all part of our act, and that irritates me.

She turns to the camera, a half smile on her lips, and whispers in a conspiratorial voice, “I paid him to say that.”

Several people burst out laughing, but I shake my head in reply.

“Your turn.”

“Don’t get too excited.”

I wait, amused. She glances over what she’s written, clears her throat, and then reads, not daring to look at me.

“My mother always used to say, ‘You can tell a lot about a person from the way they treat the people around them.’ And that’s what I love most about you—the way you treat people.

I’ve seen how much you inspire them. How much they rely on you and listen to you and trust you.

You’re a born leader.” She looks at me and adds, without looking down at her paper, “You’re kind.

Loyal. Honorable. Perhaps too honorable.

You’re not afraid of trying new things; in fact, you like taking on a challenge.

You’re not afraid to admit your weaknesses, because you’re willing to find ways of doing better, of being better. You never give up.”

Boom boom .

There it goes again, my treacherous heart, pounding crazily against my ribs. Rose continues to improvise, her intense gaze giving me goose bumps.

“You say kind things without expecting anything kind to be said in return. You’ve got this amazing charisma that makes people want to follow you to the ends of the earth. You never cease to surprise me. Oh, and I love your smile. That’s it. I think.”

She looks down, embarrassed, and crumples up the paper. I nod silently and look at the camera with a half smile. “And all this time, I thought she was marrying me for my money.”

That earns me a punch on the shoulder.

The final exercise is very simple: we have to mirror each other’s movements. Standing face-to-face, we raise our hands to begin. She starts to move first, very slowly. I imitate her movements in perfect synchronization, anticipating every move.

She makes me rotate my hips, to my embarrassment, and I get back at her by making the most grotesque faces I can. She does the same, struggling not to laugh. We look like a pair of idiots, but my face hurts from smiling. I’ve never felt so good in my life.

There’s only one other person on earth who ever sees this side of me: my mother.

I’m stunned by this realization. So much so that my smile evaporates, and I relapse into my usual cold, impassive state. This takes Rose by surprise, and she gradually loses her smile, too, clearly embarrassed.

“Thank you! That was fantastic!” the journalist tells us when our time’s up. “You’ve got an unusual relationship, I have to say, but it’s clear how much you care about each other.”

We nod silently. I’m suddenly aware again of all the eyes fixed on us, sizing us up and judging. I need to get out of here and be alone with Rose. Now. Somehow she understands, and she grabs my hand and entwines her fingers with mine.

“We’ve got an important meeting right after this,” she says, “so we’ll go now, if there’s nothing else you need.”

“Oh sure! Thanks again for playing along! And say hi to Li Mei from me.”

Rose waves to the team and leads me toward the dressing rooms, where we collect our things. There’s a taxi waiting for us outside, and I climb with her into the back seat, feeling exhausted for some reason. Maybe it’s all the playacting. But were we really playacting?

Because it all felt very real to me.

“That was nice,” says Rose as the car begins to move. “And funnier than I thought it would be.”

“True.”

Her hand is still in mine. I look at her out of the corner of my eye, not sure where I stand.

After a few seconds’ silence, I pluck up the courage to stroke the palm of her hand softly with my thumb.

At first she doesn’t react, but then, ever so slowly, she returns the caress.

It’s a tender, intimate gesture that drives me wild.

I touch my forehead touching hers and murmur, almost inaudibly, “Sorry about ... what happened the other evening.”

I wish it had turned out differently. I wish we could have carried on for another hour, or more, then called room service and had dinner, naked on my bed. After that, we’d have picked up right where we left off, probably in the living room or the kitchen, or maybe the Jacuzzi?

“You scared me,” she says simply.

I have no answer to that. I rest my head against the seat back. My eyelids are growing heavy. I realize how tired I am. After a few minutes, as I’m starting to drop off, I hear her whisper, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why the sudden change toward me that evening?”

I shrug weakly. “Because I wanted you so much.”

Silence.

“But not before?”

“Yes, before too.”

“So why now? What’s changed?”

I think about that, but no answer comes to me. “I don’t know. Something.”

She seems satisfied, because she doesn’t say anything else. Soon I hear her breathing becoming more regular, and then she’s asleep. I brush a strand of hair gently out of her eyes, then dare to rest my head against hers and close my eyes.

My heartbeat slows immediately, and I gradually drift toward sleep, my hand still in hers. Then a cruel thought flits into my mind: the touch of her skin against mine is something so special ... I might never tire of it.

And then I remember.

Rose is nothing more than a dirty liar and a traitor who’s come here to destroy me on her father’s orders.