“I prefer to keep my friends close…

but my enemies closer.”

Basa Caine’s business and reputation are his priorities. And Mimi Miller threatens both those things! He may have almost succumbed to their heated attraction once, but after her criminal family almost ruined his own, Basa won’t be fooled twice.

But when they’re thrown together for a society wedding in Argentina, Basa’s fierce control is threatened. Especially when Mimi surprises him utterly—with the secret of her innocence! But wanting to show Mimi what true pleasure could feel like doesn’t make her any less forbidden…

LOUISE FULLER was once a tomboy who hated pink and always wanted to be the Prince—not the Princess! Now she enjoys creating heroines who aren’t pretty push-overs but strong, believable women. Before writing for Mills & Boon she studied literature and philosophy at university, and then worked as a reporter on her local newspaper. She lives in Tunbridge Wells with her impossibly handsome husband Patrick and their six children.

Also by Louise Fuller

Vows Made in Secret

A Deal Sealed by Passion

Claiming His Wedding Night

Blackmailed Down the Aisle

Kidnapped for the Tycoon’s Baby

Surrender to the Ruthless Billionaire

Revenge at the Altar

Demanding His Secret Son

Proof of Their One-Night Passion

Passion in Paradise collection

Consequences of a Hot Havana Night

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Craving His Forbidden Innocent

Louise Fuller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09792-5

CRAVING HIS FORBIDDEN INNOCENT

© 2020 Louise Fuller

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To Hugo.

For learning how not to have the last word,

and always being up for a debate about Shakespeare x

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

SHIFTING THE PHONE against his ear, Bautista Caine silently dismissed his PA with a sharp upward flick of his head and turned his attention back to his sister’s voice.

Not that Alicia was saying anything new in her message. It was more or less a repeat of what she’d said at the weekend—that she was so grateful, and he was the best brother, and she loved him—but it was still good to hear.

His mouth twisted. It had been a difficult, upsetting conversation, but was there any other kind when the subject was Mimi Miller?

He felt his shoulders tense against the fabric of his suit jacket.

Mimi, with her long blonde hair, even longer legs and those silky, soft lips that had melted against his in a kiss he had never forgotten… A kiss that had stifled all common sense and conscience and shaken him to his soul—

He gritted his teeth as his body stiffened like a pointer scenting game.

She was like the proverbial bad penny and probably always would be, given that nothing he’d said to his sister seemed to change her opinion of Mimi. Only a day ago she had told him quite earnestly that Mimi lacked confidence.

Yeah, right, and he was the Easter Bunny.

Nearly two years had passed since he’d dispatched his sister to New York—ostensibly on the basis that it was a chance for her to learn first-hand about the day-to-day running of the Caine charitable foundation. He’d assumed that the geographical distance and the fact that she would be meeting new and—to his mind anyway—far more appropriate people, would finally bring an end to her incomprehensible and unfortunate friendship with Mimi.

He’d been wrong.

Gazing out of the window at the massed daffodils in the garden of his family’s London residence, he narrowed his dark eyes as he mulled over his sister’s upcoming marriage to Philip Hennessy.

The news had been neither surprising nor unwelcome, but Alicia’s blithe announcement that she wanted Mimi to be her maid of honour had been both. He wasn’t sure what had shocked him more: the fact that the two of them were still friends after so many months of separation, or the fact that his sister had chosen to keep their continuing friendship secret from him.

No, that wasn’t fair.

He was sure that if he’d asked about Mimi Alicia would have told him anything he wanted to know. But of course he hadn’t asked. He hadn’t wanted to hear Mimi’s name—much less have to face the memory of the last time he’d seen her, or his own part in what had been the narrowest of narrow escapes. It had been easier to assume that out of sight meant out of mind.

Only, despite his concerted efforts to make her so, Mimi Miller was never far from his mind. How could she be? Every time he saw his father he was reminded of the damage caused by her crooked relatives—and, worse, those few hours when he’d let his basest needs overrule his duty to safeguard his family.

He breathed out slowly against the knot in his shoulders.

As usual, when he let himself think about his sister’s twenty-first birthday party, he felt the same see-sawing mix of anger and regret. And, as usual, he told himself that it had been a one-off, a momentary lapse of good sense, that he had been caught off-guard by her looking like that, looking at him like that. For up until that moment in time he’d seen Mimi simply as a child.

Afterwards he had tried to tell himself that it wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t chosen to be related by blood and marriage to a pair of crooks, and he hadn’t blamed her for what her stepfather and uncle had done.

His lip curled. No, the blame for that lay squarely with him—for introducing Charlie Butler and Raymond Cavendish to his father, for not seeing beneath their urbane charm.

Yet he couldn’t completely absolve Mimi of responsibility for her actions.

Even on the night there had been a couple of moments when he’d felt uneasy—something he’d put down to her being Alicia’s friend…a friend of the family. Later, though—too late, in fact—it had become humiliatingly clear that she had played a part in her family’s deception.

She had almost played him—so very nearly played him.

And incredibly, despite everything else that had happened, it was that betrayal—her betrayal—and his stupidity that still hurt the most now.

He felt the knot in his shoulders tighten.

At first he’d wanted it to be a coincidence, but her rapid, unexplained exit from the party had confirmed her guilt in his mind, and as events unfolded he’d stopped looking to exonerate her.

Later, for his father’s sake and for the reputation of his family, he’d tried to deter Alicia from continuing their friendship—only, of course, his soft-hearted sister had ignored his advice.

He felt a surge of irritation. Not with Alicia. He knew she didn’t live in the real world. But he did. And it was bad enough having led the wolves to his door once. Now it turned out that he’d failed again by not insisting she cut all ties with Mimi.

The tension in his shoulders was inching down his spine.

He knew exactly how it would play out if the media ever found out that his sister was BFF with the stepdaughter and niece of the men who had looted the Caine employees’ pension funds. It wasn’t going to be hard for them to find it out if Alicia made Mimi her maid of honour—and that was why he’d just had to tell his sister that it couldn’t happen.

His jaw tensed.

Hearing her so upset had hurt. But the alternative—having Mimi centre-stage at the wedding and in the photos—was just not an option. So he’d used his father’s ill-health and the potential damage to the family name to get her to change her mind, and it had worked, but he’d had to come up with something to soften the blow.

He’d done that too, only it was not ideal—far from it. For it would mean letting Mimi Miller back into his life. But he was going to see it through for his sister’s sake.

Easing back in his chair, he felt his heart kick against his ribs.

This time there would be no lapses—momentary or otherwise. No loss of control nor lowering of his guard. No having to live with the knowledge that he had come close to putting his family in jeopardy for a second time.

This time it was going to be different. He would be pulling her strings, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Mimi Miller was running late.

Literally running.

Although, thanks to the heels she had unwisely chosen to wear, it was more a stumbling dash than a full-on sprint, and already her lungs were begging for mercy.

Oh, thank goodness.

This was the street. Slowing down to an unsteady walk, she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window and breathed out shakily.

It was her own fault she’d had to rush.

Not because she’d been dithering over what to wear. Clothes weren’t really her thing and she only owned two dresses—one of which she hated because it was so tied up with love and dreams and heartache. Her other dress, a navy and white polka dot one, had looked sweet when she’d tried it on at home, but then she’d seen the state of her waist-length blonde hair and, panicking, walked straight into the nearest hair salon for a last-minute and eye-wateringly expensive blow-dry.

But it had been worth it, she thought, her skin tingling with excitement and happiness. Today was the first time she’d seen her best friend in nearly two years and she wanted to celebrate.

Stepping inside the restaurant, she glanced down at her legs, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Jeans and a T-shirt, preferably several sizes too large, was her usual outfit of choice, but Tenedor was a super-exclusive Argentinian eatery, popular with celebrities for its discreet staff and the tinted windows that made life hard for the paparazzi. It was definitely not the kind of venue you turned up to wearing faded denim.

Her breathing lurched. Should she even be here? It was a long time since she’d moved in these circles—two horrible, hopeless years since Charlie and Raymond had been sent to prison and her life had changed for ever.

But she was being stupid. Nobody was going to connect her with that haunted-looking girl outside the courtroom.

Above the diminishing drumroll of her heart she gave her name to the unsmiling maître d’ and followed him through the restaurant, her excitement at seeing Alicia overriding her panic at being so conspicuous.

She still couldn’t believe that it was two years since she’d last seen her friend. After Charlie and Raymond’s arrest they had spoken on the phone—a short, unhappy conversation, with her apologising over and over for what had happened and Alicia tearfully repeating that it changed nothing between them.

Since then they had talked and texted, but after moving to New York Alicia had been busy working for her family’s charitable foundation, and then she had met and fallen in love with Philip Hennessy, heir to a restaurant empire, and that had obviously taken up most of her time.

Now she and Philip were engaged, and according to the save the date card she’d received the wedding was going to be in May—less than three months away.

In other words, Alicia was effortlessly hitting all the milestones of adulthood.

Mimi’s chest tightened. Whereas she was working as a barista in a coffee shop at Borough Market, her youthful ambitions to become a film director having stalled before they got started.

And as for her love-life…

It wasn’t even a case of the less said the better—there was literally nothing to say. Her one bungled foray into the world of sexual relationships had left her with her virginity intact and her confidence so battered that she’d decided to put that part of her life on hold indefinitely.

She sighed. Early spring made being single seem so much harder. London’s parks seemed to be full of pairs of ducks and deer all cosying up together, and it didn’t help that the scent of spring flowers reminded her of Alicia’s birthday party.

And Alicia’s birthday party reminded her of Bautista.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Bautista Caine.

Her best friend’s older brother—her first crush. The man who had broken her heart and then walked away without so much as a backward glance.

Bautista…with his curving, lazy smile and steady dark gaze.

She hadn’t been alone in fantasising about him. Practically every girl in their school, and probably some of their mothers too, had drooled over him whenever he’d turned up to collect his sister, and it only took the briefest of glances at him to understand why.

He was smart, successful, and so charming that birds didn’t just fly off the trees, they dropped like overripe fruit. Not that he was interested in schoolgirls or their mums. His girlfriends were all long-limbed, pouty-lipped models. Hardly surprising, then, that he’d found it so humiliatingly easy to turn down a night with his sister’s gauche friend.

Her stomach tightened—only this time not with excitement.

It had been a long time since she’d allowed herself to think about Bautista and the night they hadn’t spent together. But ever since Alicia had announced her engagement it had been getting harder and harder to hold back the memories and ignore the fact that at some point she was going to have to see him again or forfeit her friend’s wedding. Because Alicia worshipped and adored her brother, and he adored her right back.

Unfortunately his feelings for Mimi were somewhat cooler—if complete indifference even had a temperature.

She shivered. It had been one of the few positives about Alicia’s absence: not having to face the man who had kissed her and then an hour later looked straight through her as if she didn’t exist.

And that had been before he’d found out about Charlie and Raymond’s appalling abuse of trust.

She felt her stomach contract. Before that night at Fairbourne he’d treated her with measured politeness, but judging by his concerted efforts to keep Alicia on a different continent for the past two years—her friend had let slip that it had been his idea for her to move to New York—he clearly thought she was not to be trusted.

But maybe by the time they did come face to face she might actually have met someone who would compare to Bautista Caine and not be found wanting. Her heart skipped. Maybe she might be able to tell him truthfully that he wasn’t all that—

‘Mimi!’

It was Alicia, in a beautiful yellow dress, a smile splitting her face, her brown eyes shining with happiness and affection, and suddenly they were hugging and laughing and both talking at once.

‘Oh, it’s so good to see you.’ Alicia took a step back and gazed at her with undisguised happiness. ‘I thought you might be too busy to fit me in.’

‘Doing what?’

‘I don’t know—you might have been hanging out at some indie film festival.’

Mimi laughed. ‘Well, duh, that’s next month.’

Giggling, Alicia gave her another crushing hug. ‘I’ve missed you so much. I know we talk on the phone and stuff, but it’s not the same as having you here.’

Mimi felt her ribs tighten. ‘I’ve missed you too.’

Alicia smiled. ‘You look amazing.’

‘You mean I’m wearing a dress.’

‘No, I mean you look amazing,’ Alicia said firmly. ‘Doesn’t she?’ She turned to the tall, fair-haired man standing behind her. ‘Philip, this is my best friend—the very talented, soon-to-be-discovered filmmaker, Mimi Miller. Mimi, this is Philip. The love of my life and a perfect saint.’

Mimi squeezed her friend’s hand. This was what she loved most about Alicia—the way she spoke from the heart. Anyone else would be hiding their feelings, trying to play it cool, making a joke, but Alicia had always been unashamedly open and honest.

Philip stepped forward. ‘Hi, Mimi.’ He kissed her lightly on both cheeks. ‘Alicia talks about you so much I feel like I already know you.’

‘And it didn’t put you off coming to lunch?’ She smiled at her friend. ‘You’re right—he is a saint.’

‘Hardly!’ Philip laughed, and then he turned towards Alicia, his eyes softening. ‘Alicia’s the saint. She makes the world a better place, and I’m the luckiest man alive.’

Mimi nodded. ‘Yes, you are,’ she said quietly.

But her pulse was beating out of time and she felt a familiar ache in her chest. Would any man ever say those words to her?

It seemed unlikely. She’d only ever really loved one man, and he had made it so dauntingly clear that his interest in her had been nothing more than a moment of indiscretion to be swiftly forgotten that she had decided there and then that she was not ready for love. Maybe she never would be if it involved making herself vulnerable to such unbearable hurt.

Her jaw tightened as she remembered how for a couple of hours she’d let herself believe that her youthful fantasy of love might become reality, only for Bautista Caine to trample her heart and her pride into dust.

Even now, nearly two years later, she could still picture his face as he had stared straight through her, despite having kissed her just an hour earlier with an intensity that had left her blinded, breathless and dazed.

She could feel herself being sucked towards the familiar vortex of unanswered questions.

Why had he kissed her?

No, why had he kissed her like that?

With such fierce, consuming hunger.

And why hadn’t he come back?

Had she been too eager? Too clumsy?

Her heart balled like a fist.

It had hurt so much. It still did, if she let herself think about it, and what made the pain a thousand times worse was him being her best friend’s older brother, for that meant she had no one to confide in.

Her stomach tightened.

She’d have liked to pretend that she hadn’t said anything to Alicia purely out of love, and a desire not to put her friend in the middle, but part of her had been afraid. She knew what it was to be cast out into the darkness, and she hadn’t been willing to risk losing Alicia as she had lost everything else.

And anyway, there had been too much other stuff going on—important stuff. Charlie and Raymond had been arrested and their two families had been torn apart, so she’d hardly been in a position to just call up her friend and discuss not sleeping with her brother.

But now was not the time to be dredging up that particularly dismal part of the past, she told herself firmly. Her best friend was here in London, and she wasn’t going to let anything ruin that.

Sitting down, she glanced admiringly around the restaurant. ‘This is such an amazing place.’

‘Never mind that. I want you to tell me everything you’ve been doing,’ Alicia said, laying down her menu. ‘Starting with your film.’

Stalling for time, Mimi picked up her water glass. There was depressingly little to say. Like everything else she touched, it had fallen apart—all her effort and hopes turning to dust just as they always did.

It was true that she had made a film—a short, largely improvised black and white movie about a group of girls on a night out in London—and, incredibly, she had managed to find a distributor for it. Only that had been nine months ago, and she was still struggling to get it released. And, frankly, the chances of that ever happening seemed to be getting less and less likely.

She felt a twinge of tension in her shoulders.

When filming had begun, both her lead actresses had been desperate to grab some arthouse credentials, but since then they had signed on to a high school movie franchise, and now their lawyers were blocking her film’s release on the grounds that their clients had only made the movie as a ‘favour’ to her.

It wasn’t true. The real reason those actresses didn’t want to see the film released was that some of their ‘improvised’ comments were not very PG, and they didn’t want to damage their new, fresh-faced images.

It was all such a mess—and far too long and boring a story for a celebratory lunch.

She shook her head. ‘Later.’ Reaching over, she picked up Alicia’s hand and turned it over so that the diamond engagement ring glinted beneath the lights. ‘Right now I want to hear all about how you two got together.’

Watching her friend talk, Mimi found herself relaxing. There was something so innocent and hopeful about Alicia. Philip was right. She did make the world a better place, and she wanted to make the world better for everyone too.

‘So, how many people are coming to the wedding?’ she asked as the waiters cleared the table.

Philip frowned. ‘We’ve tried to keep the numbers down to about two hundred.’

Mimi almost laughed. But of course—their wedding wasn’t just a private exchange of vows. It was a huge event in the social calendar.

She cleared her throat. ‘I’m guessing you’re going to have it at Fairbourne?’

Before her life had been turned upside down she’d been a regular guest at Fairbourne, the Caines’ fabled ivy-clad Georgian manor. She could still remember her first visit—how dazzled she’d been by the grandeur and beauty of the house and the almost ludicrous perfection of everything in it.

Although not nearly so dazzled as she’d been when the beautiful, dark-eyed heir to the estate had kissed her all the way to his bedroom, closing the door and pulling off his clothes first, then hers.

Her stomach clenched.

She felt her fingers twitch against the smooth white tablecloth. Bautista looked sexy as hell clothed. He had the kind of lean, muscular physique and sculpted body that allowed him to wear anything and make it look better than anyone else could. But naked—

Her mouth was suddenly dry. Naked, he was just beautiful, gorgeous…all endless, smooth golden skin and curving muscles.

An image of Bautista stretching out over her flickered before her eyes and she blinked it away as she saw Alicia shake her head, her soft brown eyes suddenly bright with tears.

‘Oh, Lissy, what is it?’

Philip took Alicia’s hand. ‘Bob had a viral infection at Christmas and he’s been a bit low since. That’s why we’ve brought the date forward to May.’

Mimi nodded, trying to calm her beating heart. She’d met Alicia’s father, financier and philanthropist Robert Caine, many times, and he’d always been a generous, gentle and welcoming host. She felt her stomach knot with guilt. Of course that had been before his already frail health had deteriorated following her stepfather and her uncle’s betrayal.

‘And it’s why we decided to have the wedding in Argentina,’ Philip added. ‘It’ll be autumn there, so warm but not humid.’

Alicia gave him a shaky smile, her face softening. ‘And Basa has very sweetly offered to let us use his estancia in Patagonia for the actual ceremony, and let guests stop over at his house in Buenos Aires en route.’

Mimi’s mouth curved upwards automatically, responding to the joy in her friend’s voice, but for a moment she couldn’t breathe or speak. Alicia’s words were jangling inside her head like the notes on an out-of-tune piano, but she heard herself say quite normally, ‘Oh, Lissy, that sounds wonderful.’

The waiters arrived with dessert and, glancing down at her hibiscus jelly and rum baba, Mimi suddenly felt sick. She’d known all along when she’d accepted Alicia’s invitation to lunch that it was only a matter of time before Bautista’s name came up in the conversation, but even so she was shocked by how much it hurt to hear it spoken out loud.

Was that how he felt when he heard her name?

Did he wince inside?

And if so was it with shame at how he’d treated her?

Or, given Charlie and Raymond’s actions, was he just relieved that he’d called time before they’d actually slept together?

She doubted that having sex with the stepdaughter of one of the men who had almost ruined his family would be high up on his list of personal goals.

‘It’s the most beautiful place, Mimi. There’s this huge expanse of sky, and the mountains in the distance, and soft golden grass in every direction.’ Alicia smiled shyly. ‘Basa says it’s the first step to heaven.’

Her heart stilled in her chest.

No, that had been the touch of his lips on hers, she thought, heat sweeping over her skin at the sudden sharp memory of what it felt like to be kissed by Bautista.

Her hand shaking slightly, she picked up her glass and drank some wine in a hard swallow. ‘I’m so looking forward to it, Lissy,’ she said, with a conviction she didn’t feel. ‘It’s going to be the most beautiful day. But is there anything I can do? I mean, I’m sure you’ve got heaps of people helping…’

‘Actually, there is one thing we were going to ask you…’

There was a beat of silence as Philip and Alicia glanced at one another.

‘Really?’ Mimi leaned forward. ‘So ask me?’

‘We’re going to have a photographer.’ Philip grimaced. ‘It’s not really our kind of thing, all those formal staged shots, but Bob and my parents are a little old-fashioned that way.’ He hesitated. ‘But what we’d really like is for you to make a film for us.’

‘Something personal,’ Alicia said quickly. ‘You know—like you did at school, with us just talking and being ourselves.’ Her mouth trembled. ‘You have such a gift, Mimi. You capture a moment and hold it for ever, and I thought you might be able to do that for us.’

Mimi blinked. Her hands were shaking and her throat felt thick. ‘You’d trust me to do that?’ she said slowly.

They both nodded.

Meeting her gaze, Alicia gave her a lopsided smile. ‘I’ve trusted you with my life—or have you forgotten playing lacrosse against St Margaret’s?’

Mimi grinned. ‘It’s seared into my brain.’

Glancing over at her friend, she suddenly felt dizzy. More than anything, she wanted to say yes. She loved Alicia, and what better way to prove that than by making her shy, modest friend the star of her own film?

But she knew Alicia too well, and without a doubt this was her way of showing her some support. She didn’t need to do that—not publicly, anyway, and especially not on her wedding day. It was enough for her that Alicia had always been such a loyal, true ally.

‘Oh, Lissy, I’m just an amateur, really. And this is your big day.’ She was trying to gather herself together.

‘Isn’t that exactly what I said she’d say?’ Glancing at Philip, Alicia shook her head. ‘I wish I could make you believe in yourself like I believe in you.’

Mimi rolled her eyes. ‘You’re a good friend, and it’s a lovely idea, but you’re biased.’

‘I knew you’d say that too.’

Alicia smiled, and something in her smile snagged a tripwire in Mimi’s head.

‘And you’re right—I am biased. But it doesn’t matter because it wasn’t my idea. Or Philip’s,’ she added as Mimi glanced at her fiancé. ‘It was Basa’s.’

Mimi froze. Her heartbeat was booming in her ears so loudly she was surprised everyone in the restaurant couldn’t hear it.

‘I don’t believe you,’ she said finally. And she didn’t.

The Caines might not actually live in a castle, but after her stepfather and uncle had been arrested the family had pulled up a metaphorical drawbridge. Overnight she had simply stopped being invited into their world. There had been no drama about it. They were far too well-bred to make a scene. But she had known from what Alicia hadn’t said that Robert and Bautista thought she was bad news, and she’d never had any reason to believe they had changed their mind.

Her breath felt jagged in her throat. All she had were those few hours at the party, when she’d mistakenly believed that Bautista felt about her as she felt about him.

‘And that’s why I asked him to join us so he could tell you himself.’

Finishing her sentence, Alicia lifted her hand and waved excitedly at someone across the restaurant.

Mimi glanced in the direction of her friend’s gaze and instantly felt the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end. On the other side of the room, with a lock of dark hair falling across his face, his dark suit clinging to his lean, muscular body like the ivy that grew over his family’s Georgian mansion, was Bautista Caine.

Her heart seemed to stop beating.

Watching him move, she felt her body turn boneless. There was a swagger to the way he walked, a kind of innate poise and self-confidence that she had never possessed—except maybe briefly, when she was behind the camera. But even in a room like this—a room full of self-assured, beautiful people—he was by far the most beautiful, with his dark, almost black hair and eyes, and his fine features perfectly blending his English and Argentinian heritage.

But his impact on the crowded restaurant wasn’t just down to his bone structure, or those mesmerising sloe-dark eyes, or even that easy honeyed smile that made you forget your own name. He had what directors liked to refer to as presence: a mythical, elusive, intangible quality that made looking away from him an impossibility.

To her overstrained senses it seemed to take an age for him to reach the table. Quite a few of the diners clearly knew him and wanted to say hello. Her pulse skipped a beat as a famous Hollywood actress got to her feet and kissed him on both cheeks but Bautista seemed completely unfazed.

Of course he did: this was his world. More importantly, it wasn’t hers, and no amount of lunching with A-listers was ever going to change that fact.

Her understanding of that was the difference between now and two years ago when, high on the incredible thrill of finally being noticed by the object of her unrequited teenage affections, she’d let herself believe that their worlds could collide without any kind of collateral damage.

She knew better now. His abrupt change of heart had been humiliating and devastating—although of course his heart hadn’t been the organ involved in that particular encounter.

And that had made her humiliation complete. For although she might have been secretly hoping for a declaration of love, what she’d offered him had been sex. Simple, no-strings, walk-away-without-so-much-as-a-backward-glance sex.

And he’d turned her down.

Her heart felt like a jagged rock scraping against her ribs.

She had gone to his room willingly, eagerly, hoping, almost believing, that she could pull it off. But of course all she’d managed to do was prove to herself that, as usual, she was punching above her weight.

‘Basa.’

‘Philip.’

She watched numbly as the two men embraced.

‘No, don’t get up, Lissy.’ Leaning forward, Basa kissed his sister gently on both cheeks, and then Mimi felt her body tense as finally he turned towards her.

As their eyes met the chatter of the dining room seemed to recede.

Mimi stared at him in silence. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair for him to be so devastatingly good-looking. She wanted to hate him. She needed to hate him. Only it was hard to treat him as the despicable human being he was when he was packaged so delightfully.

But she wasn’t some love-struck girl living out a fantasy, she reminded herself quickly, and there was no excuse for feeling so jittery about a man who had treated her so badly.

‘Well, if it isn’t little Mimi Miller,’ he said softly. ‘In the flesh.’

She felt her pulse pool between her thighs. His voice was the icing on the cake. Not some simpering frosted butter but a dark molten glaze—what chocolate would sound like if it could talk.

He leaned down and she breathed in the faint hint of his cologne as his lips brushed against first one cheek and then the other. Her breath stumbled in her throat as he sat down beside her, stretching his long legs out in her direction so she quickly had to tuck hers under her chair to stop their limbs colliding.

He held her gaze for a moment, and then his dark, mocking eyes dropped to her mouth. Instantly she felt her skin begin to tingle, her nipples tightening against the fabric of her dress in a way that made her want to duck under the table and hide.

Breath burning in her throat, she watched him lean back in his seat, and then, turning to face Alicia, he said calmly, ‘So, what did I miss, Sis?’

She shook her head. ‘Most of lunch. You were supposed to be here at one o’clock.’

He grinned unrepentantly. ‘And I messaged you to say I’d be late.’ Reaching across the table, he grabbed his sister’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. ‘Hey, I’m sorry I missed lunch, okay? But, look, I can still have dessert.’

Lowering his ridiculously long eyelashes, he gazed pointedly at Mimi’s untouched rum baba.

‘Here. Knock yourself out.’ Smiling stiffly, she pushed her plate towards him, wishing she could throw it at his head.

‘Thank you.’ His fingers brushed against hers as he took the plate. ‘Now, isn’t this civilised?’

Their eyes met, and his cool, unblinking gaze made ice trickle down her spine, for it felt as if they were having a private and far less civilised conversation.

Oblivious to the tension, Philip leaned forward, his eyes seeking out a waiter. ‘Do you want coffee with that?’

Basa looked up from his food and nodded. ‘I could murder an espresso.’

Philip glanced at Mimi.

‘Yes, please.’ She smiled stiffly, relief washing over her skin. At least coffee meant this would soon be over and she could escape Basa’s taunting gaze.

‘So four espressos, then.’

‘Actually, could you make that just two?’ Alicia nudged her fiancé in the ribs. ‘We’re meeting your aunt now, remember?’

‘We are?’ Philip looked blank for a moment and then a flicker of understanding crossed his face and he nodded slowly. ‘Oh, yes, that’s right. We are…meeting my aunt.’

Basa rolled his eyes. ‘Really subtle, guys.’

He tilted his face towards Mimi and gave her a long, slow smile that sucked the air from her lungs.

‘My sister has probably told you that she invited me along so that I could persuade you to film her wedding, but actually that was just an excuse. She thinks we need to have a little chat, just you and me—you know, to clear the air about our families’ shared history.’

Mimi blinked.

Absolutely. Not.

She practically shouted the words inside her head, and she was just opening her mouth to repeat them out loud when Basa cut across her.

‘And I think she’s right,’ he said smoothly. ‘After all, a wedding is all about moving forward. But obviously if Mimi would rather not…?’

His eyes held hers, dark, uncompromising, daring her to refuse. Beside him, Alicia was staring at her, her own eyes soft and hopeful.

‘Please, Mimi. You’re two of my favourite people in the world, and I know you’re worried about what happened with your family and mine and that’s why you don’t want to film the wedding.’ She bit her lip. ‘Look, Philip and I are going to go now, but will you promise me that you’ll stay and talk? Please? For me?’

Mimi wanted to say no, to say that there was no point, because Basa wasn’t going to listen to anything she said. But the words wouldn’t form in her mouth. Not because she didn’t believe them or because they weren’t true—she did and they were—but because this was the first time she had found herself up against both Caine siblings and she knew she couldn’t fight the two of them.

Lifting her face to meet her friend’s, she forced her mouth into a smile, and beneath the blood roaring in her ears she heard herself say lightly, ‘Okay, I’ll stay and talk. I promise.’

CHAPTER TWO

WATCHING ALICIA AND Philip leave, Mimi felt as though she was being left in the playground by her mother on the first day of school. Unlike Basa, she thought, as he leaned back in his chair like a Roman emperor at a feast being held in his honour.

Her heart was thumping like a piston. This wasn’t the reunion she’d imagined with Basa—and she’d imagined quite a few of them. The majority had involved the man calmly sitting beside her and apologising, and then begging her forgiveness.

Unfortunately, as with most of her life, the reality was a long way from her fantasy. Her attempt to matchmake for her mother had ended in disaster, her one shot at becoming a film director was languishing in a lawyer’s office, and her seduction of Basa had been utterly humiliating.

Was it really so surprising that instead of sticking to her script he was coolly drinking coffee and playing mind-games?

Her breathing faltered. She already knew what it felt like to be played by Basa, and she was in no hurry to be on the receiving end of that treatment again. Clearly the most sensible thing was for one or both of them to make a dignified and swift exit. She would just have to square it with Alicia later.

Trying to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, she turned to face him. ‘Okay, I know we said we’d stay and talk, but I think we can both agree that was only for Alicia’s benefit, so please don’t feel you need to stay on my account,’ she said quickly. ‘Really, I’m not expecting you to.’

His dark eyes glittered. ‘What? Not even to pick up the bill?’

Her chin jerked up.

‘I didn’t come here for a free lunch, if that’s what you’re implying,’ she snapped, and then immediately wished she hadn’t, because she sounded defensive and cornered, which wasn’t at all the image she wanted to project.

Although, Basa’s opinion of her was so low anyway what difference would it make? He might not have said as much but his cool manner and even cooler gaze made it clear he’d made up his mind about her character back when her family had so nearly ruined his, and she doubted there was anything she could do or say to change his view. In his mind she was, and always would be, damned by association.

The waiter arrived with their coffee and she sat fuming, her mind belatedly conjuring up all the various smart put-downs she should have made to his last remark. He was just so insufferable. Sitting there and judging her as though he had the moral high ground, when his own behaviour had been utterly atrocious.

But why should she care what he thought of her anyway?

She watched him reach out and select one of the charming petit-fours the waiters had brought to the table with the coffee. Something in the tilt of his head seemed to tug at her memory, and her body tensed as time seemed to roll back on itself and she was in the ballroom at Fairbourne again. And standing on the other side of the dance floor, his dark, dishevelled hair accentuating the precision cut of his dinner jacket, his dark eyes fixed on her as though she was the only woman in the room, was Basa.

And that was why she cared.

In those few hours she had blossomed beneath his unblinking gaze, and then the miraculous, the unbelievable, had happened and he’d kissed her, said words she’d dreamed of hearing and—

Her fingers clenched into fists.

If she was going to indulge herself by reliving the past, the least she could do was do it properly and remember how, just when she’d started to believe he might actually mean those words, he’d got up and left her, and not come back.

The next time he’d seen her he’d looked straight through her. As if it hadn’t been him who had cupped her face in his hands, his tongue tangling with hers while his thumbs caressed her aching nipples.

Trying to still the jittery feeling in her chest, she watched mutely as he raised his hands in mock surrender, his dark eyes gleaming. ‘Someone’s a little touchy. Or did I hit a nerve?’

He leaned forward, his dark hair falling across his face, his mouth curving in a way that made her spine shrink against her chair.

‘I sincerely hope it wasn’t my presence that dragged you away from the charms of Zone Six. I know we had that little “entanglement” at Lissy’s birthday party, but if you’re thinking we have some kind of unfinished business I’m going to have to disappoint you,’ he said softly.

The handle of her coffee cup felt clumsy between her fingers. Her throat was tight and dry, and she was finding it hard to breathe normally.

Of all the arrogant—

Grinding her teeth, she stared at him in silence, a pulse of anger hopscotching over her skin. Did he truly think that was why she had come here? To offer herself to him? After the way he’d behaved.

It was suddenly hard to catch her breath. All the hurt and loneliness and confusion of that night rose in her throat, and when she looked down at her hands she saw they were shaking. Did he have any idea how it had felt? To lie there naked in his bed, her body quivering with longing, filled with disbelief that this beautiful, unattainable man had chosen her, only to discover that he’d changed his mind and not even bothered to tell her.

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Basa,’ she said coldly, ‘but I didn’t actually know you were going to be here today. And even if I had known, any entangling with you really isn’t that much of an incentive for me to “drag” myself across the road, let alone into the West End.’

He stilled, not just his body but his face, even his eyes, and she felt her heart begin to beat out of time.

‘Funny… I don’t remember you being so reticent two years ago. In fact, as I recall, you were pretty insistent.’

‘You asked me to dance,’ she snapped.

She could still remember her shock, and the sharp tingling excitement as he’d held out his hand. For to her it had felt like the moment when Prince Charming had invited Cinderella to dance at the ball.

Her heartbeat stuttered now.

Maybe if she’d been more worldly she might have seen it for what it was. Thanks to his sister’s insistence that he make sure everyone had at least one turn on the dance floor, he had dutifully danced with practically all Alicia’s friends by that point. But as he’d pressed her closer she’d been so cocooned in an enveloping, intoxicating happiness that nothing had existed except the muscular hardness of his body and the restless, persistent pulse between her thighs.

His dark gaze rested on her face.

‘To dance, yes…’ he said slowly.

Her pulse froze, and before she could stop them the images fast-forwarded.

Their ‘duty’ dance over, she’d thought he would thank her and leave, but somehow they had been on the terrace, the music had faded, and as she’d shivered in the cool night air he’d shrugged out of his dinner jacket and settled it over her shoulders. The silk lining had been warm from the heat of his body, and it had still been warm a moment later, when she’d stood on tiptoe and kissed him…

Her cheeks were hot and her skin suddenly felt as though it was too small for her body. She might have been a virgin—she still was—but she hadn’t been completely clueless. There had been a couple of boys at parties, their clumsy lips pulling at hers like overgrown puppies with a chew toy, but nothing and no one had ever made her feel like that.

Her body had seemed to lose all its bones, to become one with his. It had felt as though she was melting into him, everything solid turning fluid, drowning all sense and reason—and, yes, she had been eager, frantic to finish what they’d started without any thought to the consequences.

But admitting that to Basa now wouldn’t change his part in what had happened.

He might be blessed with mouthwatering looks and limitless wealth, but that was where his resemblance to Prince Charming ended. Even before Charlie and Raymond had been caught embezzling he’d had no plans to marry a scullery maid—or, in her case, the stepdaughter of an employee. All he’d been interested in was a short, sweet sexual encounter, and that had rapidly lost its appeal when he’d realised he’d have to go hunting for condoms to make it happen.

Of course he’d made up some other excuse to leave, but she knew he hadn’t gone to get a bottle of champagne. The truth was that she just hadn’t been beautiful or desirable enough to make him want to stay.

‘It was a party. I’d been drinking,’ she said icily. ‘I just wanted to have a bit of fun,’ she lied. ‘That’s what girls want to do at parties, Basa—they want to have fun.’

Around them the air hummed with a kind of anticipatory stillness as his eyes rested steadily on her face. To anyone watching it probably looked as if they were having some kind of intimate tête-à-tête, she thought, her fingers tightening around her coffee cup. Only she could feel the waves of animosity seeping across the white tablecloth.

‘Mimi by name, and Me-Me by nature,’ he said slowly. ‘Look, I don’t give a toss what you wanted or didn’t want. Your life and how you live it doesn’t interest me. I just don’t want you dragging my sister down to the level of your family.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know how you have the gall to show your face—’

‘I’m not my family, and I would never do anything to upset Lissy.’ She felt angry tears spring into her eyes.

He looked at her as if she was an imbecile. ‘For obvious reasons I’m not about to take your word for that.’ Shaking his head, he leaned back against his chair. ‘Much as I want to, I can’t stop Alicia being friends with you, but don’t think for one moment that I can’t see you for the manipulative little hanger-on that you are. And clearly I’m not the only one.’

She stared at his face in confusion.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about…’

‘Of course you do,’ he said quietly. ‘Your little legal setback?’ His eyes flickered over her face. ‘My sister might be too sweet and trusting for her own good. Unfortunately for you, though, not all your friends are as naive as she is.’

Her heart bumping unevenly against her ribs, she glared at him. ‘They’re not my friends.’

‘I’m sure they’re not.’ His dark eyes locked with hers. ‘Not now. Not after you manipulated them into doing you a favour and then tried to exploit their success.’

She breathed out unsteadily. ‘You don’t know anything about them. Or me. And I don’t have to stay here and listen to this—’

Pushing back her seat, she made to stand up, but before she could move he said quietly, ‘Oh, but you do. You promised my sister we would talk. No, sorry—I forgot. That was just for Alicia’s benefit, wasn’t it?’

‘This isn’t a conversation. It’s just you making vile accusations,’ she snapped. ‘Do you really think that’s what she meant by us talking?’

His eyes rested on her face, and then, tilting his head to one side, he sighed. ‘No,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t suppose it is.’ He ran a hand slowly over his face. ‘Look, Mimi, I’m here because I love my sister, and her happiness matters to me. For some unaccountable reason you being in her life makes her happy, so I’m willing…’

He hesitated, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say.

‘I’m willing, for her sake, to call a truce between us—but don’t think for one moment that means I want to kiss and make up with you.’

Actually that wasn’t true, Basa thought a half-second later. The kissing part anyway.

Picking up his wine glass, he glanced over at Mimi’s taut face and wondered if she was thinking the same thing. Was she remembering that evening, that dance, that kiss? Or, like him, had her mind zeroed in on the moment in his bedroom when he’d slipped the straps of her dress over her shoulders and watched it pool at her feet…?

He shifted in his seat, wishing he could shift the memory of what had happened and what had so nearly happened at his sister’s birthday party, but he’d been trying to do that for the last two years and it was still etched into his brain like an awkward tattoo from a gap year in Thailand. And it wasn’t just her soft lips or the scent she wore that had burrowed into his subconscious.

Watching her that night, he’d found her beautiful and sexy. But, more than that, intriguing. As a teenager she’d been a regular visitor to the family home, and thanks to her tomboyish clothes, tied-back hair, clunky glasses and gauche manner, she’d been easily distinguished as apart from the ‘glossy posse’, as he’d christened the rest of his sister’s friends.

Of course he’d had no time for anything but work after his father’s stroke had forced him to take over the running of the family business. So he hadn’t seen her properly for several years when she’d wandered into the ballroom at Alicia’s party, looking as apprehensive as an antelope approaching a waterhole.

But that wasn’t why he’d done a double take.

Picking up his cup, he downed the rest of his coffee. He needed that hit of raw caffeine to counteract the impact of that moment when Mimi Miller had metaphorically ambushed him and wrestled him to the ground.

She had been wearing a long, high-necked white dress that had seemed to ripple over the heart-stopping silhouette of her body, and her waist-length blonde hair had hung loose over her shoulders like a golden cape. But it hadn’t been the duckling-to-swan transformation that had stopped him in his tracks, for at that point he hadn’t actually worked out who she was. No, it had been something else—a kind of hesitancy that tugged at a memory hovering at the edges of his mind,

And then, as she’d turned to pluck a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, he’d felt his heart stop beating. The dress had been backless, provocative without the overt sexiness of a low-cut bodice or short hemline, and, watching her cautious progress around the room, he’d felt a strange mix of resentment and responsibility and an inexplicable need to stay close.

Too close.

Close enough to feel the heat of her skin. Close enough to let his hand slide around her waist and press against the satin-smooth skin at the base of her back. Close enough to get burnt.

His lungs suddenly felt as though they were full of wet cement.

He’d told himself that it was just a dance, and a duty dance at that, but even before the music had ended, and even though he’d known by then that she was his sister’s friend, and therefore a complication he didn’t need and normally wouldn’t choose, he’d pulled her closer, moulding her body to his.

Lost in her scent, and the heat of her bare skin, he’d kissed her all the way to his bedroom. And there they would have finished what they’d started—only he hadn’t had any condoms on him. He’d gone back down to the party, to grab a bottle of champagne to console them both, but then, walking back through the ballroom, he’d switched his phone on—the phone he could remember Mimi taking from him and switching off—and the world as he had known it had crumbled to dust.

Gazing down at the list of messages from his lawyer and his accountant, each one growing increasingly frantic, he’d felt his heart turn to stone. A brief call to his lawyer had made it clear that he needed to leave the party immediately, but discreetly, so as not to alert Alicia, and just as he’d been finishing the call he’d caught a glimpse of Mimi.

At the time he’d assumed she’d come looking for him, and he remembered how guilty he’d felt at leaving her alone for so long.

His heartbeat stalled. Now he would be willing to bet his entire fortune that she hadn’t been looking for him, but he hadn’t known that at the time. Trusting idiot that he’d been, he’d set off on his way to follow her.

Only it had turned out she’d made other plans.

Mission clearly accomplished, she had been sneaking out through the back door.

Watching her clutch the arm of a floppy-haired young man as she climbed into his made-you-look orange Lamborghini, he’d been devastated.

He took another mouthful of coffee and swallowed, wishing it could wash away the bitterness in his heart.

It had only been later, when the scandal had broken and he’d had time to think, that he’d realised he had been set up. All of it—her kissing him, her taking his phone—had just been an attempt to distract him, and as soon as his back had been turned it had been time for her to go. She’d even made up some lame excuse to Alicia about feeling ill.

The fact that he had been so easily duped had bruised his ego, but it had been the disconnect between the seemingly sweet child he’d once known and the woman she had become that had been most unsettling.

He would never forgive Mimi and her relatives for what they had done. Their greed and duplicity had nearly ruined his family. But it was the knowledge of how close he’d come to having unprotected sex with her, and the possible consequences of that act, that had convinced him to come to this lunch.

This time he was going to protect his family—and teach her a lesson for taking him as a fool.

‘Okay, fine.’

Mimi’s voice pulled him back to the present and, tipping his head back, he met her gaze.

‘Okay fine, what?’ he asked softly.

‘I’m willing to call a truce if you are. But I don’t really see any point in us dragging this conversation out any longer.’

‘I disagree. We need to discuss you filming the wedding. She’s serious, you know?’ he added. ‘About wanting you to do it.’

She raised her chin, and he felt the shock of her forget-me-not-blue eyes zigzag through his body like a jolt of electricity.

‘I know she is, but whatever she said about it being your idea, I know it wasn’t, so you don’t need to worry. I’m not going to do it.’

She glanced away, and he felt his shoulders stiffen against the crisp white poplin of his shirt. Her desire to leave was so tangible it felt like a living, breathing thing on the table between them, and had this conversation been happening at any point up until a couple of days ago he would have been showing her the door. Hell, he would have been holding it open for her.

But that had been before he’d spoken to Alicia.

His jaw tightened. After his mother’s death, and the series of strokes that had left his father’s health permanently impaired, he had sworn to protect his sister and do everything in his power to make her happy. And he still felt the same way—perhaps even more so. It was, after all, partly his fault that their father was so fragile and that the business was only just now recovering its former strength.

Clearly he’d rather Mimi wasn’t within a hundred miles of the wedding, but Alicia’s happiness and his family’s reputation were all that mattered to him. Suggesting Mimi film the wedding had been the first thing to come to mind as he had tried to stem his sister’s tears and find an alternative to Mimi being maid of honour.

But now that he’d had time to think the idea of her filming the wedding was actually appealing on other levels too—for wouldn’t it be safer to have her fully occupied rather than just floating around unsupervised, as she had been at his sister’s twenty-first birthday party?

And who better to do the supervising than him? That way he could ensure her behaviour wouldn’t bring his family’s name into disrepute, and make her life as difficult and uncomfortable as she had made his.

‘It was my idea,’ he said softly.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes widening with scorn at what she obviously took to be a bare-faced lie.

‘Of course it was. I mean you love having me around. That was obvious after—’

She broke off, frowning.

‘After what?’ he asked slowly.

Inhaling a shaky breath, she shook her head. ‘So tell me, then, Basa, why exactly do you want me to film your sister’s wedding?’

He shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘What do you mean, “why not”?’

‘I mean why wouldn’t you do it?’ he said patiently.

She stared at him suspiciously. ‘You do realise you said that out loud?’

He smiled. ‘I am aware of that, yes.’

She bit her lip and, watching her bite into the soft pink flesh, he felt his heart-rate double as his brain unhelpfully offered up an image of those same soft pink lips parting beneath his mouth.

Suddenly the need to have her commit to the project became as intense as the ache in his groin.

‘She’s your friend—your best friend—and I know she doesn’t ask much from you because she doesn’t ask much from anyone,’ he said bluntly, watching a flush of colour seep over her cheekbones. ‘But she has asked you to do this one thing.’

He could see by her expression that she was confused by his words, and then abruptly her face cleared.

‘Oh, I get it. This is you trying to persuade me so that you can tell your sister what a good brother you are.’ Her chin jutted. ‘Well, if that’s all you’re worried about you don’t need to pretend. I’ll tell her you tried and I wouldn’t listen.’

‘I’m not pretending. I think you’d do an excellent job. You’re a good filmmaker.’

‘Right…’

She shook her head, and the defensive expression on her face chafed at something inside him.

‘And you know that how, exactly?’

‘Alicia showed me some of the films you used to make at school.’ His eyes met hers. ‘They’re clearly amateur, but you really capture that teenage sense of waiting and wanting. There’s not a wasted breath,’ he said softly.

There was a beat of silence, and then his breathing stalled as she looked up at him with such sweet, desperate hope in her blue gaze that for a few half-seconds he forgot the past, and everything that had happened, and he was simply fighting against the insane urge to reach over and pull her closer, until her body fused with his just as it had two years ago.

Across the room, a champagne cork popped, and they both blinked at the same time.

Tuning out the heat pulsing over his skin, he regulated his breathing. ‘Like I said, you’re a good filmmaker, and this is your chance to be a good friend as well. So please say yes and make some happy memories for my sister.’

There was a beat of silence and then her shoulders slumped. He knew he’d won even before she began to nod her head.

‘Okay, I’ll do it.’

‘Good.’ Brushing aside the relief warming his skin, he glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll get your number from Alicia and then my PA can call you and talk flights—’

‘Flights?’ She cut across him, her eyes narrowing. ‘What flights? To where?’

‘Buenos Aires,’ he said calmly. ‘Don’t worry, I’m paying. First class ticket, and obviously you’ll stay at the house before we go to Patagonia.’

She began to shake her head. ‘No, no, no. I’m not doing that. I’m not going to Argentina.’

‘Really?’ He frowned. ‘So, have you got some kind of satellite camera on loan from NASA? Because London to Buenos Aires is one hell of a long shot.’

Ignoring her outraged expression, he pulled out his phone and swiped casually through his diary.

‘I can’t do anything for the next couple of days, but I can fly down from the States on Friday.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘I don’t care if you can fly to the moon and back. I’m not going to Buenos Aires on Friday. Or on any day you care to mention, in fact.’

‘Oh, but you are—and I’ll explain why. The wedding is in less than three months, and Alicia is flying out with my father in a few weeks to settle in. She’s going to have enough on her to-do list without you wandering in at the last minute with a hundred and one questions that could have already been answered in advance. By me.’

He was impressed by the plausibility of his words, and he could see they had taken the wind out of her sails.

‘It’s got nothing to do with you,’ she managed finally. ‘It’s not your wedding and you don’t know anything about film making.’

‘Oh, I think it’s got everything to do with me,’ he said mockingly. ‘Given that the whole event is going to be happening in my homes, and I have very specific and inflexible house rules.’

He saw her teeth clench.

‘You can’t expect me to make up my mind now. I’ll need time to think about it.’

‘I’m not selling you a car, Mimi.’ He let his gaze drift over her face, enjoying the mix of frustration and fear in her blue eyes. ‘Look, I’m a busy man, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to work around my schedule—and that means you coming to Buenos Aires this Friday.’

‘What about my schedule?’ she snapped.

‘I think Crema will probably be able to fill your shifts quite quickly, don’t you?’

He’d deliberately made his voice condescending, and it was a measure of her fury that she didn’t even register the fact that he knew where she worked.

She glared across the table. ‘You are so unspeakably arrogant.’

‘No, I’m just honest—but I guess that’s a bit of an alien concept to you.’ Their eyes locked, hers furious, his taunting. ‘How are Charlie and Raymond, by the way? Still enjoying their stay at Her Majesty’s pleasure?’

She stared at him, a flush of pink spreading like a sunset over her incredible cheekbones. ‘You are a horrible man.’

‘And you are bad news.’ He held her gaze, ignoring the pull of her scornful pout, wishing she didn’t look quite so sexy when she was angry. ‘So, if we’re done trading insults, let me tell you how this is going to work. The last thing my family needs on my sister’s wedding day is a scandal.’

And it wasn’t going to happen on his watch. He’d learned his lesson two years ago, when his hasty, mismanaged, ego-led decision to employ Charlie and Raymond had so spectacularly backfired. He’d been responsible for that disaster, and the collateral damage it had caused, and it was his job—his duty—to prevent anything like that happening again.

He looked up, his eyes holding hers. ‘Particularly one involving you. So I need you to conduct yourself in a proper manner. That means following my rules, and it’ll be easier to explain those rules on-site. But if you don’t think you’re mature enough to handle one little fully paid trip to Buenos Aires, then call Alicia.’ He held out his phone. ‘And break her heart.’

She stared at him mutely. ‘You really are quite something. All that guff about moving forward was just for Alicia’s benefit.’

‘Don’t push it, Mimi. I’m not going to fall out with my sister over this, but if you think that means you get a free rein in my home then you really don’t know me at all.’

‘Thankfully, no,’ she spat. ‘But if you feel that strongly about me then why don’t I just stay in a hotel? Don’t worry. I’ll pay.’

Her skin was flawless, and the soft curl of her mouth was making him lose concentration. She was beautiful and angry and he badly wanted to kiss her.

And that was what gave him the strength to lean back in his chair.

‘Sadly, that wouldn’t work for me,’ he said softly. ‘You see, I prefer to keep my friends close but my enemies closer.’

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