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Slowly she walked to a cream divan positioned in an alcove and sank onto its soft seat. ‘So how do you propose—no pun intended—to make this work? Not,’ she informed him with swift asperity, ‘that I’m actually thinking of going along with this idea.’
‘Of course not,’ Luca murmured. Hannah watched, mesmerised, as he tugged off his tie and then began to unbutton his shirt.
‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked.
‘Changing. We’re due for cocktails in less than an hour.’
‘Can’t you use the bathroom?’ She nodded towards the door that led to what looked like a sumptuous en suite.
‘Why should I?’ Luca’s smile was wicked. ‘We’re engaged to be married, after all.’
‘You’re impossible.’ Hannah closed her eyes against the sight of Luca shrugging off his shirt. Even so she’d had a glimpse of bronzed, burnished skin, rippling muscles, and crisp, dark hair that veed down to the waistband of his trousers.
‘You’re not the first person to say so,’ Luca answered. She could hear him undressing and even with her eyes closed she could imagine it, picture him kicking off his trousers, revealing long, muscular legs, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, perhaps in navy satin...
Good grief, but she needed to get a grip. Hannah took a deep breath. ‘So you still haven’t told me how this is going to work.’
‘We’re going to act like we’re engaged. Simple.’
‘Simple?’ She opened her eyes to glare at Luca; he stood across the room, buckling the belt on a pair of grey trousers. His chest was still gloriously bare. ‘It’s not simple, Luca. We’re not engaged. We barely know each other. If someone asks either one of us anything about our relationship or how we met, we’ll have no idea what to say.’
‘It’s best to keep as close to the truth as possible,’ Luca advised as he reached for a light blue shirt and shrugged into it. ‘You’re still my PA.’
‘And we just happen to be engaged. Convenient.’
He shot her a quick, hard smile. ‘It is, isn’t it? Now you should get ready. We’re due to meet Tyson for cocktails shortly.’
CHAPTER FIVE
LUCA STARED OUT at the setting sun turning the placid sea to gold and waited for Hannah to emerge from the bathroom. He tried to ignore the guilt that flickered through him, an unpleasant ripple of sensation. All right, so he’d tricked her. He shouldn’t have. But he hadn’t had any choice. Not that Hannah would be able to understand that, and he had no intention of explaining it to her. She didn’t seem to be quite so angry now, although she had shut the door rather firmly after flouncing in there to get changed.
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