B00Z637D2Y (R) (9 page)

“Yes,” Michael answered before Mia could respond. “So give us the full experience.”

“You bet.” He swiveled to half face them as the horse plodded along the paved road. “My name is Lee.” He stared at them for a moment, and Michael had a strange urge to look away, much like the feeling he used to get in school when his teacher caught him unprepared for class.

“You’re a great couple,” Lee said, turning back around. “I’ve been doing this forever, and I can read people like books.”

It took every ounce of Michael’s willpower not to roll his eyes at such a silly, cliché statement. The man didn’t know the first thing about them. Hell, they weren’t even a couple. He flicked a leaf off of the seat next to him and draped his arm over the side of the carriage, trying to look like he was enjoying himself. Mia clearly was, smiling and holding the dog in her lap so that it could see out.

“Yep,” the driver continued as they were passed by some joggers, “I’ve seen it all. Some people tolerate each other. Some don’t really even like each other, but you guys are in love.”

He shot a glance at Mia over his shoulder. “Am I right?”

She grinned. “Yes, you are.” Then she took Michael’s hand in hers and whispered, “Practice makes perfect.”

Seeing her this animated made Michael want to practice, all right. He wanted to kiss her again, but that had
already
been perfect. A jolt of heat shot to his groin and he shifted in his seat. What a surprise that had been. Her lack of physical inhibition made her the most responsive kisser he’d ever encountered. She melded to his body with no hesitation and returned his kiss stroke for stroke, which he hadn’t expected from a first kiss—especially one done expressly for show. He adjusted his position again and looked out at the lake, rather than at her full lips.

Still holding his hand, she gave his fingers a squeeze. Maybe this carriage business wouldn’t be so bad after all. It was certainly spontaneous. He smiled as he imagined Dr. Whittelsey’s face at their next session.

…

Just one more week,
Mia told herself,
then it will be over.
For a while, she had hoped she and Michael could be friends. She’d moved so much from city to city, she didn’t have many close friends, which was why his business proposition approach to this had hurt so much. With so much opportunity in New York for her, she’d finally found a place she could stay. Plus, there was no way she could leave the Queen B’s at Heart’s Home. Having a friend again would have been so nice. Sue was her only real friend, and after all the trouble with Jason, they didn’t really talk anymore. She hoped to reconnect with her at the wedding if she didn’t do something stupid to screw it up. Like always.

Michael and the driver discussed some black rocks jutting out of the ground, and Clancy walked across her lap to Michael’s to see something out the other side of the carriage. She expected him to push the dog away, but he held him up and steadied him instead, to give him a better view.

After living at his place for a week, she knew that friendship was out of the question. Being friends with a man like this would be impossible. He was entirely too much. Too much of everything. And she knew her limitations. He would be so easy to fall for. Heck, she’d probably already started.

No. Never again
, she told herself. Such a sucker for a pretty face. Add the power and confidence, and he was a custom built heartbreak. Plus, he’d never meet her non-negotiable requirement, so she’d have to just put her hormones in lock-down mode. Her goals were only to help him loosen up and to make it through this wedding with her sanity and heart intact. She had her work cut out for her on both fronts.

The carriage came to a stop and Lee turned in the seat to tell them about Bow Bridge. “It’s romantic, isn’t it?” Lee remarked. “You two should get out and walk around. This is a beautiful part of the park. I’ll just wait here.”

She knew Michael didn’t want any part of something romantic, but this was the very kind of thing he needed to do. Something frivolous and non-work related.

Clancy didn’t need to be asked twice. He bounded back and forth from Mia to Michael until the driver opened the door on Mia’s side. She helped Clancy out, but Michael made no move. “You coming?” she asked.

“Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”

Wait here, my ass.
She was having none of that. “Out. Now,” she ordered. He glanced around, and she knew he was uncomfortable. Too bad. Discomfort was good for a guy like him. “Ah. It’s the public figure thing. Lighten up, Michael. Nobody’s looking at you. Everyone is having fun. Everyone but you.” She pointed to some kids playing ball. “See?” And then to a group of people gathered around a jazz ensemble on the bank of the water near some cattails. “Even dancing.” Then she gestured to a couple on the bridge wrapped up in each other’s arms. “Fun of all kinds.” She cupped her hands to her mouth and stage whispered. “And guess what? None of them are watching you or give a care what you’re doing.”

Other than a muscle twitch in his jaw, he remained stone still.

Poor guy. Was he that messed up? “But I’m watching you. And
I
care what you’re doing. Please come with me.”

“May I show you something, Mia?” he asked, pulling out his phone.

“Sure.”

He crooked his finger, and then patted the seat next to him. “Would you mind hanging on to the dog for a moment, Lee?”

“Not at all, Mr. Anderson.”

Michael looked directly at her, then back to Lee. “Have we met before?”

“No. But I’ve lived in the City my whole adult life and just about everyone here knows who you are. I recognized you the second I saw you. Just played along with your tourist routine.”

Once Mia had climbed back into the carriage, he handed her his phone. “Google me. More specifically, Google my name and NYC.”

She did and the screen filled with tiny thumbnails of Michael.
Holy shit
. She had no idea.

He took the phone and entered something. “This is my favorite.”

He turned the screen toward her and it was a blurry shot of him stooping to pick up a pile of dog poop on the sidewalk while Clancy sniffed another dog. “What do you think would happen if I went strolling over that bridge or danced to that band down there?”

“I know exactly what would happen. Someone might take a picture of Michael Anderson having fun. Heaven forbid.”

“You’re missing my point. You’d be in the picture, too.”

Was it
her?
He didn’t strike her as being that shallow.

“It’s a sensitive time for me, Mia. I’m trying to close several big deals. One of which is tenuous at best. I need to be careful and control what gets out there right now.”

She took the phone back and scrolled through the photos. “You’ve worked hard to get that entrepreneur playboy image just right, huh?” Photos of him on news shows, at fundraisers, and with slick, sophisticated women followed one after the other as she flipped from image to image. Maybe he
was
that shallow. A different woman in every photo. “So powerful and serious—and such a player,” she said, handing the phone back.

“Yes.”

“But is that who you really are?”

“It’s who I need to be.”

His eyes were hidden behind the sunglasses, but she could see her reflection in them—her messy ponytail and make-up free face. The polar opposite of the women she’d seen in the photographs. No wonder he didn’t want to be seen with her. She and Michael moved in different worlds that didn’t intersect at any point. At least she could be real in hers. And she certainly had no place in his.

“I know that this is the part of the conversation where most people would just say, okay, and step back because your career is so important.”

He crossed his arms over his chest across his starched shirt. “But?”

“
But
I’m not most people.” She was actually glad she couldn’t see his piercing blue eyes, because if he’d employed that dominant look he’d used on her when he told Jason they were engaged, she might have done the smart thing and shut up. Instead, true to form, she plowed ahead. “I feel sorry for you, Michael Anderson. I bet nobody’s ever said that to you before, have they?”

He didn’t respond. He simply sat there, completely still, face unreadable and hidden behind his mirrored shades.

She stepped down from the carriage and took the leash from Lee. “I can’t imagine how horrible it must be to be worried what other people will think all the time. To never say or do anything you really want. To never be yourself.”

“Just like me, you only let people see what you want them to see. You manipulate your image every bit as much as I do.”

“You’re wrong.” She took a deep breath and stared over the lake for a moment. “I really thought I could help you. But now, I’m not sure.” She turned her attention back to him. “Not if you won’t let me.”

…

“Wow,” Lee said as Mia crossed over the bridge, never looking back. “She’s something.”

“Yes, she is.” Help him? The woman had it turned around. He was helping
her.

The driver straightened his top hat. “She lobbed you an easy one.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re supposed to follow her.”

Michael took his gaze off of Mia’s retreating form to look at Lee. “That’s not what I got out of it.”

“Mr. Anderson, I may be about to
way
overstep here—”

“Then don’t.” He could barely see her between the trees on the other side. She’d stopped at a vendor cart with a bright yellow umbrella.

As expected, the guy overstepped anyway. “When she said, ‘Not if you won’t let me,’ that was code for, ‘let me’.” You’re supposed to follow her. If you don’t, you’ve really screwed up.”

Could he screw up any worse? A psychiatrist convinced him to take a dog he didn’t want. Mia convinced him take a carriage ride he didn’t want. And now a guy wearing a top hat and a t-shirt that looked like a tuxedo, who gave tours of Central Park, was trying to convince him to chase a woman…a woman he
did
want.

Like coming up for air after holding his breath too long underwater, a wave of relief ran through him, filling him with fresh focus and clarity as the revelation hit. He wanted Mia. He wanted her more than anything he had wanted in a long time. Even more than the Kawashima deal, and that said something. He wanted her in his bed and he wanted her now.

But why? Why her?
Michael puzzled over the possibilities in his head as she walked back onto the bridge, carrying what appeared to be ice cream. She leaned on the rail and stared out over the water, not looking in his direction while the dog at her heels barked at the ducks below on the green, reflective surface of the lake.

Perhaps it was the challenge she presented. There was something to be said for obtaining something so rare. Maybe that was the allure. That’s certainly what drove him in the antiquities business.

It would be a breach of his policy, though. He had a firm rule to never sleep with a woman he would be required to deal with on a regular basis. But this arrangement concluded at the end of the wedding, only a week away. A strange pain shot down his sternum. The time constraint bothered him. He liked having her around. Mess and all.

“There are worse things than being seen in the park with a beautiful woman,” Lee said.

To hell with his policy. “Indeed there are.” Michael dropped his hat and glasses on the seat and stepped down from the carriage.

“I’ll just wait here, then.”

“You do that.”

Chapter Eight

Mia felt Michael before she saw him. Like the ripples across the lake below, the air seemed to vibrate with his energy. And then he was close enough to see clearly. Not mad, thank goodness, but intense. Eyes narrowed, gaze never leaving her face, his intent was clear. She had no doubt in her mind what he was going to do. And while her ever-elusive shred of common sense squealed, “No,” everything else in her shouted, “Bring it on.”

And bring it, he did, backing her up against the railing and taking her mouth with his before she could get a word out, not that she would have been able to string a cohesive sentence together after seeing that expression on his face. It was a look of desire, hot and insistent, just like his kiss.

The kiss in front of Jason had been toe curling, but this was something completely different. Overwhelming. Everything melted away—the bridge, people in the park, even where he ended and she began—as he stroked her back with his talented hands, coaxing her passion with his lips and tongue. When an involuntary moan escaped her, he answered with a groan and deepened the kiss.

This was the real Michael Anderson, not the calm, calculated one he’d chiseled from cold, analytical clay and wore like a mask to hide the real man.

Her arms wound around him as his tongue tangled with hers, their bodies meeting all the way down. The hard ridge of his erection pressed against her belly, sending an ache to her core.

Taking her bottom lip between his teeth, he ran his hand up her neck and into her hair. “More,” he said, pulling her ponytail just hard enough to tilt her head further. “Give me more, Mia.”

Yes
.
No
.
No
.
No
.

He was her fake fiancé for a friend’s wedding. She was his unwanted guest who doubled as his dog sitter at night.

It was a business arrangement, and making out on a bridge in public was bad business.

“No,” she whispered.

He stilled, rapid breaths fanning across her neck.

Releasing her arms from around him, she inhaled slowly, willing her hammering heart to slow. “I’m sorry. This is not…”

He pulled back enough to look into her eyes, which made rejecting him even harder.

“This is not what I need,” she finished.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before straightening up completely, hands still on the rail on either side of her. Then he opened his eyes and nodded. “Okay.”

“Not that it wasn’t nice.”

“Nice…” He gave a half laugh and took a step back.