Sleeping With Her Rival

“A cup of hot tea would be nice,” she responded, wishing he would stop flirting.

“Coming right up.”

Within minutes he placed a silver tea set on the table beside her. It looked much too refined to be served by a tall, broad-shouldered man.

He sat across from her, looking wildly attractive, his rebellious hair falling onto his forehead.

She prepared her tea, adding cream and sugar. “So, what’s the purpose of this meeting? Did you mastermind a scandal?”

“Yes.”

She tasted the hot brew, sipping delicately. “And?”

“And I think we should have an affair.”

Gina nearly spilled her tea, and Flint laughed.

“Not a real affair,” he clarified.

“Let me get this straight.” She set her cup on the table, knowing she wasn’t steady enough to balance it. Apparently he’d meant to knock her for a loop, to heave his proposal at her, much in the way she’d tossed that apple at him. “You’re suggesting we fake an affair?”

“That’s right. A whirlwind romance and a stormy breakup.”

She released a choppy breath. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, I am. Your family is already being targeted in the tabloids, so you’ll draw plenty of attention. And so will I, considering I’ve been in the spotlight before.”

Yes, he’d been in the spotlight before, playing around with a movie star.

“I’m telling you. This will work. Just picture the headlines. ‘PR prince melts Italian ice-cream princess.’ It’ll make great copy.”

She shook her head, still trying to fathom the idea. “We don’t even like each other.”

“So what? It’s just a phony affair. Three weeks of prominent dating, then a public breakup, and I’ll be out of your hair.” He removed his jacket and loosened his tie, giving himself a rakish look. “By the time we’re done with the media, they won’t care about pepper-spiced gelato or family curses. All they’ll care about is the hip-grinding, mind-blowing displays of affection we’ll be tossing their way.” He gazed directly into her eyes. “Come on, what do you have to lose?”

My sanity, she thought.

“We’ve got great chemistry, Gina.” He moved onto the sofa and reached for her hand. And when he linked his fingers with hers, a jolt of electricity shot up her arm.

“You can’t deny our chemistry. I know you can feel it.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed her knuckles with his lips. And then he teased her with a quick, playful bite.

Gina’s blood rushed from her head to her toes. Heat pooled between her legs. Her nipples went hard.

But when he sent her that sly, sexy smile, she jerked her hand back.

Damn him, she thought, as her pulse jumped and jittered. Damn him to hell.

He was right, of course. His ploy would work. The tabloids would feed on the sexual frenzy he intended to create. The press would sensationalize her affair with him instead of trashing Baronessa.

But could she actually paw him in public? Or let him run those spine-tingling hands all over her body?

“So, what do you say?” Flint asked. “Are we on?”

Yes. No. Maybe. Her mind spun. Her heart raced. “I don’t know. I—”

“Hey, if you’re worried about your image, relax. I’ve got that covered.”

She blinked. “What are you talking about?”

He crossed to the bar. “That stiff nature of yours. You know as well as I do that it won’t fly, Gina. It’ll make you seem unlikable.”

She eyed him with annoyance. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” He popped the top on a soda and took a swig. “But I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before. I’m just the guy who can give you an image that will dazzle the media, charm the public and make men fall at your feet.”

Offended, she lifted her chin. “I don’t need you to run my social life.”

He set his drink on the table. “The hell you don’t. You’ve got incredible sex appeal, but you don’t know how to use it.”

“And a phony affair with you is going to turn me into a femme fatale?”

He slanted her his signature grin. “You bet is it.”

“Go to hell, Flint.”

“Hey, come on. Don’t be that way. This is business.”

At the moment she didn’t care. Refusing to listen to any more of his spin-doctor spiel, she rose and headed for the door, leaving him cursing behind her.

The community living room at the brownstone was cozy yet elegant, with tall, leafy plants, beige furniture and an array of pale blue pillows, but the familiar atmosphere didn’t lighten Gina’s mood.

Eight hours after her meeting with Flint, she sat on a big, comfy sofa, venting her frustration to her younger sisters.

Rita, an almost twenty-five-year-old nurse at Boston General, listened with a sympathetic ear.

Twenty-three-year-old Maria, on the other hand, seemed preoccupied. She stood beside the window, gazing at the setting sun. Gina admired her sister’s business savvy, and tonight she needed the other woman’s undivided attention.

“Don’t you care about what’s going on?” Gina asked, unable to temper her irritation.

Maria turned instantly. She stared at Gina with dark eyes, her chiseled features a mask of composure. In spite of her petite frame, she exuded strength. “That isn’t fair. You know how important the Valentine’s Day promotion was to me. I’m as concerned as you are about the company our grandparents built.”

Of course she was, Gina thought guiltily. Maria managed Baronessa Gelateria, a family-owned, old-fashioned ice-cream parlor—a Hanover Street location overflowing with charm and an emotional cloud of memories.

Still, Gina couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else going on in Maria’s life. Her sister had been slipping off lately, almost as if she were meeting someone on the sly.

Startled by her imagination, Gina shook her head. The phony affair Flint had proposed had warped her mind. Now she was conjuring a secret lover for Maria.

“I feel like I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place,” Gina said, drawing the conversation to her rival. “Baronessa’s reputation is floundering, and I just locked horns with the spin doctor who’s supposed to pull us out of this mess.”