What The Magnate Wants: The Magnate's Mail-Order Bride / The Magnate's Marriage Merger / His Accidental Heir. Joanne RockЧитать онлайн книгу.
Black Swan in Swan Lake maybe. She had a regal elegance, a sophistication. Her hair was pulled back into a damp braid that highlighted the long neck traditional in ballerinas. Her clothing was simple and understated so that the only thing that shone was the woman herself. And the ring on her left hand, he amended with satisfaction. Even staring at her across a crowded coffee shop, Quinn wanted her.
Damn.
He rose to greet the two women as they made their way through milling patrons juggling cups and cell phones. Her friend continued to shadow her step for step, a fact that disappointed him since he’d been eager to speak to Sofia privately. Or as privately as he could in a Manhattan java shop. He would have lobbied to meet at his apartment or in a quiet restaurant, but Sofia had been tired and rattled last night when they’d made these plans and he had the impression she’d purposely chosen someplace more public.
“Sofia.” He greeted her the way he would greet a woman he loved, sliding an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek, mindful of the public atmosphere but still appropriately warm. He thought it better to be cautious since he didn’t know her friend and wanted to be sure he played the part of Sofia’s husband-to-be at all times.
Besides, it felt good to touch her.
The cool skin of her cheek warmed as his lips lingered for a moment. When he backed away, he spied the hint of color in her face before he extended a hand to her friend.
“Quinn McNeill,” he introduced himself.
“Jasmine Jackson. I’m the best friend as well as the publicist. And total keeper of all her secrets.” Her grip was firm and professional, and her eyes made it clear she knew full well about their ruse. “Shall we have a seat so I can go over my suggestions for the two of you?”
“Of course. Right this way.” He gestured toward the table he’d secured in the back. Jasmine went first, and he palmed the small of Sofia’s back to guide her along. Having his hands on her again made him realize how much he’d looked forward to acting out the part of fiancé.
He claimed the seat beside Sofia while Jasmine took the spot across from them and set down the leather binder on the maple surface between them.
“I’ve made copies of my ideal social calendar for both of you.” She slid matching papers their way. “I’ve already sent Sofia the digital file so she can forward it to you, Quinn.”
Taking in the extensive notes on dates and events, he was impressed. She had details about the status of their invitations, directions, suggested attire, a who’s who list of people they should try to speak to at each event and potential spots for photo ops. Clearly, the woman had done her homework and she’d done it in a hurry.
“I see you know the New York social calendar,” he remarked, wondering if his company’s PR firm would do half as good of a job. “This is ambitious.”
As Sofia’s finger followed the lines of type, the diamond engagement ring caught the last of the pale winter sunlight. As impressive as the piece was, and he was glad she’d worn it, he felt a ridiculous urge to replace it with something of his own choosing.
He hoped that normal brotherly competitiveness accounted for that instinct and not some latent sentimental notions. No way would he let his grandfather’s dictate to marry get to him. He had decided to use this time with Sofia as a way to enjoy their obvious attraction. Not romanticize it.
“As I said.” Jasmine closed her binder and folded her manicured fingers on top of the leather. “This is simply a wish list that would serve several purposes at once for Sofia.”
“You got in touch with Dance magazine to reschedule our interview?” Sofia asked, her finger now stalled on a line item toward the bottom of the page.
“Yes. I told them today was full for you but that you could meet with them Friday night during the welcome reception for Idris Fortier.” Jasmine reached across the table to point out the event listed at the top of the paper. “In the meantime, I promised to release your statement about yesterday’s events to them first.” Jasmine pulled another set of papers from the binder and passed them across the table. “Here’s a tentative release. If you could make your changes and send the digital file back to me before seven tonight, I can get it to the reporters for a blog post spot they’re holding for you.”
Quinn scanned the release, approving of the minimal personal details it included.
“‘When we met’?” Sofia read a highlighted yellow section aloud. “‘When we fell in love’? Is that really necessary?” Her gray eyes darted his way then back to her friend.
“Those are two questions everyone will ask. Better to save yourself answering it twenty times over and put out the information up front that you want people to see.” Jasmine gave Sofia’s forearm an affectionate squeeze. “But I will let you two discuss that since I need to run to another appointment.”
Secretly pleased to have Sofia all to himself, Quinn rose as Jasmine took her leave. Sofia neatly folded the papers and tucked them into the black leather satchel she carried.
“Maybe we could talk through the rest of this while we walk? The park is close by. I know I suggested this place, but I wasn’t thinking about how noisy it would be.”
“Good idea.” He left the waitress a tip even though they hadn’t ordered, then escorted Sofia out onto the street. With a hand on her hip, he could feel the tension vibrating through her. Stress? Nervousness? He had a tough time reading her. “I live on the other side of the park. We could at least head in that direction.”
The traffic would be gridlocked soon anyhow and he knew the paths well enough on the southern end of Central Park.
“Sounds good.” She seemed slightly more relaxed outdoors. “And I’m sorry if this situation is cutting into your time. I probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind to make decisions yesterday.”
“Attending these events will only benefit my business.” He turned down West Sixty-Ninth Street toward the park, plucking her bag off her shoulder to carry it for her. Fake fiancé or not, she would be his top priority for the upcoming weeks. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who allowed other people to take care of her. But from where Quinn stood, she was in need of some spoiling—something this media ruse might let him do for her. “I haven’t done much networking in the last year and it always lifts the company profile.”
He wanted her at ease. Enjoying herself. Hell, he wanted to get to know her better and this would be the perfect time. So the less she worried about inconveniencing him, the better.
“That’s a generous way to look at the situation. Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t call it generous.” He tipped his head up to the skies as a few snowflakes began to fall. “Are you going to be warm enough for this?”
Her blazer was heavy but now that the sun was almost down, the temperature was hovering just below freezing.
“My cape is in my bag,” she said, pointing to the satchel on his shoulder. He lifted his arm so she could rifle through it and pull out the same mohair garment she’d worn the day before.
“Let me.” Drawing her to the quieter side of the street near the buildings, he took the cape and draped it over her shoulders, then turned her so he could fasten the two big buttons close to her neck. His eyes met hers and, for half a heartbeat, that same awareness from their kiss danced in the air between them.
“I can get them,” she protested, trying to sidle away politely.
He held fast, hands lingering on the placket as the snowfall picked up speed, coating her shoulders.
“But the more comfortable we get with each other now, the easier it’s going to be to fool everyone on Friday.” He looked forward to it.
Very much.
Part of it had something to do with the way her heartbeat quickened at his touch. He could feel the quick thrum beneath