Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (13 page)

“No.”

“No?” Most women wouldn’t like that, but she seems pleased. “Really? Thank God!”

This only annoys him further. Everything about her is unpredictable.

“I need you to marry me as a favor.”

Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “What kind of favor is that?”

Giovanni takes a deep breath and lets it out. “It’s a long story, but bear with me.” And so he explains the situation. How his last work assignment was in a country fragmented by civil war. “One of my best friends was a doctor who grew up there before the recent problems began.” He grows quiet, remembering Paul and how much he admired him. “He was killed twelve weeks ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Her eyes are kind.

He shakes his head. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. “Paul was a widower with two kids. His brother, Phillip, contacted me recently. He lives in San Francisco and has been trying to bring his niece and nephew to the States, but he’s running into problems. Political problems. Phillip has ties with the former government, so now the current government won’t let him and his wife have the children.”

Lindsay’s eyes are focused, listening. “Who are they with now?”

“Their grandmother, but it’s not a long-term solution. As it turns out, I’m in a unique situation to help. Phillip has talked to a lawyer about setting up a private adoption.”

“Who’s going to adopt them?”

“Me.”

“You?”

He nods and presses his lips together. “I’ll adopt them temporarily to get them to the States, and then hand custody over to Phillip and his wife.”

“Wow . . . that’s some plan.”

“It should work. I’ve been living there for the last six months so I have temporary resident status, which fulfills one of the adoption requirements. Unfortunately, there’s one other requirement I don’t have.”

Lindsay leans back in her chair and studies him, before fiddling with her strawberry. “Let me guess—you need to be married.”

“Yes.”

“But you’re a doctor. Isn’t that enough?”

“It isn’t. No country on Earth is going to let a single thirty-seven-year-old male adopt two children who aren’t even a blood relation.”

She takes this in, then leans forward again. “So let me get this straight. You’re asking me to commit marriage fraud?”

“Basically, though the odds of getting caught are very small.” He watches her closely, can see the wheels turning as she sorts it all out.

“How many women have you already asked?”

Giovanni hesitates, but tells her the truth. “You’re the third woman I’ve asked.”

“The other two said no?”

“The first one said no, the second one said yes.”

Lindsay’s brows go up.

“Her boyfriend said no.”

“I see.”

“We wouldn’t have to stay married long. Once Phillip and his wife legally adopt the kids in the U.S., we could get divorced.”

“What made you think of me in all this? We barely even know each other.”

He takes a sip of his beer. “Anthony mentioned you were here in Berlin, so I asked for your address.”

Her eyes widen. “Anthony
knows
about this?”

“No, I didn’t tell him. I only told him I wanted to look you up to be friendly. I remembered how he once told me you were unconventional though.”

“Unconventional? What is that, code for weird?”

“Not at all. Just that your lifestyle is unorthodox.”

She snorts softly. “I could say the same thing about yours.”

“You could,” he agrees.

“So
this
is why you’ve been hanging around,” she murmurs. “It all makes sense now.” She takes another strawberry out, but doesn’t eat it. “Why didn’t you just tell me all this the other night?”

He licks his lips. “To be honest, I was trying to charm you a bit first.”

She laughs in amazement. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Sadly, I’m not.”

“So, all the tour guide stuff today? That was you trying to charm me?” She gives him an incredulous look.

“Basically.”

“There are no words.”

“I know.” He glances around the food court and sighs. “Charm has never been one of my strengths.”

“You can say that again.”

Maybe I have lost my sense of humor
.

Part of the problem has been Lindsay herself. He’s too attracted to her. Forget charming her—he can barely think straight with this constant desire pressing on him.

He glances at her. She seems deep in thought.

“What’s the penalty for marriage fraud?” she asks.

Giovanni picks up his beer and takes a long draw, her eyes on him the whole time. He puts his glass down and licks his lower lip. “Sometimes doing the right thing means you have to circumvent the law.”

“Tell me the penalty. You must have looked it up.”

He lets out his breath with resignation. “Up to five years in prison, along with a two hundred and fifty thousand dollar fine.”

She blinks. “Are you crazy?”

He doesn’t say anything. Years ago, Paul helped him and now it’s his turn to repay the debt.

“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “But the answer is no.”

“No one could ever prove fraud,” Giovanni tells her. “Marriage fraud typically involves immigration, but we’re both American citizens. Hell, we’ve even slept together. Not to mention we have close family ties.”

“If we got caught though . . .” Lindsay shakes her head.

“We won’t. The risk is minimal.”

“I feel for this situation. I truly do.” She reaches over and briefly touches his arm. “But I can’t do it.”

Ironically, a few months ago, she wouldn’t have given much thought to the consequences. But coming to Berlin has made her realize it’s time to make some changes in her life, to start thinking about her future.

“You’re right.” He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. “I apologize. I shouldn’t push you. Obviously, there is some risk involved.”

“How many other women are on your list to ask?”

“Two more. They’re both long shots. Longer than
you
, even.”

“Maybe one of them will agree. Or maybe the kids’ uncle will find another solution. He’s still trying to get them out, right?”

Giovanni nods, though his face is grim.

They leave the KaDeWe together, the mood between them subdued. When they reach the front, she tells him she’s going back to her apartment. “I come here all the time, so I know my way back.”

“No, I’ll take you.” His tone allows no room for argument. “We’ll grab a taxi together. It’ll be quicker than the trains.”

There’s a cab stand nearby and they walk over to it. Lindsay feels bad—for the kids, for the situation—but how can she agree to something like this?

“What are you going to do now?” she asks once they’re in the Mercedes cab headed toward her studio.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t realize it would be this difficult. I guess I’m less desirable marriage material than I thought.”

“To be honest, women don’t find marriage proposals involving fraud very romantic.”

“I suppose not.” He glances at her. “Would it help if I bought you flowers and a ring?”

Lindsay smiles. “You’re not still trying to charm me, are you?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll spare you that.”

She thinks about that genuine smile Giovanni gave her earlier, how she wishes she could see it again. “You’re a lot different than the last time we saw each other. You know that?”

His eyes go to her.

“You’re far more serious. You were really cocky before.” She goes quiet. “Though I guess it makes sense with everything. I’m so sorry about your friend.”

He nods, but doesn’t say anything.

“Is that why you’ve decided to move to Seattle?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’ve been thinking about moving back to the States for a while. It’s not uncommon to reach burnout if you do what I do for too long.”

“Are you burned out?”

“With being a doctor, no. I could never do anything else. But with how the world sometimes works?” He looks down at his hands. “Maybe so.”

She can’t take her eyes off his profile. The colorful lights of Berlin flicker across his handsome features as they drive. Despite everything—or maybe
because
of everything—a strong desire to reach for him comes over her.

She knows she should resist the impulse. There are a lot of reasons to resist it, good reasons, ones she knows will stop her if she thinks about them for even a second.

So she doesn’t think about them.

Instead, she shifts position in the cab’s backseat. She’s been careful not to allow any part of her body to touch his, but now she lets her leg press against the outside of his thigh, her arm brushing lightly against his.

Giovanni doesn’t move.

For a moment, she wonders if he even notices.

But then the air density changes inside the car, particles attract and repel. “What are you doing?” His voice is low, just above the engine noise.

“I think you know.”

He turns toward her, his eyes dark and questioning.

Lindsay reaches out for him, her fingers stroking his jaw, caressing his cheek. “You’ve seen terrible things, haven’t you?” she whispers.

He doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t have to. She can see it on his face.

And like the other night, she doesn’t wait for him. Pulling him toward her, she slides her hand to the back of his neck to draw him near.

He’s so much larger than her he could resist easily, but he doesn’t, and when their mouths meet that same desperation is there. The need so powerful, coming off him in waves, pulling her under. Giovanni tastes like desire, but something more.

He stops kissing her, his mouth still close. “What’s it going to be?” His breath feels hot.

Lindsay knows what he’s asking. Despite what happened the last time they were together, she can’t help herself. She shouldn’t want him, but she does.

His eyes on hers are desperate, misinterpreting her silence. “Let me be with you tonight,” he says, his voice shaking. “Please, let me.” The difficulty of pleading apparent in his gaze.

Understanding washes over her about the kind of man he is. His strength. Giovanni is the kind of man who picks up others when they fall. Who offers help when no one else will.

But who picks him up?
Who helps him when he falls?

She strokes his cheek. “I want you to stay with me.”

His eyes close and he lets his breath out. She assumes he’s relieved, but when he opens them, she sees a glimmer of something troubled.

They exit the taxi into the warm summer evening. The street in front of her building still has a steady stream of pedestrians. They walk beside each other, not holding hands, not even touching, but the heat between them radiates.

He follows her inside and up the short landing to the first floor. Unlike the day hours, most people shut their doors at night. When they’re close to her own door, he suddenly reaches for her and pulls her against him, as if he’s been trying to hold back but can’t stop himself any longer.

“I lied to you that first night I came here,” he tells her, his hands splayed on her back.

“You did?”

“When I told you I didn’t want you again.” He lowers his voice. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

She slides her arms around his neck. “I know that.”