The Billionaire's Counterfeit Girlfriend (7 page)

Mark hung up and brooded. Maybe it wouldn’t matter that much. Eliza was shrewd enough to keep Ceinlys, Salazar and Mark away from each other. But why was his mother so against Hilary? Was it because she reminded Ceinlys of her past? She’d been a great beauty but without a penny to her name—his paternal grandmother had frequently pointed out that
significant
flaw when he was growing up.

“A common working girl was what your mother was,” Shirley Pryce had often said, her voice surprisingly strong for a woman her age. “If it hadn’t been for her pretty face, she would’ve never been able to trap your father. He could’ve married a well-bred heiress from a great family, not somebody like her.”

“Are you angry with me, Grandma?” he’d asked when he was seven.

Her forehead creased as she raised her eyebrows. “Angry with you? For what, my dear?”

“Because of my mom. If Dad married somebody better, I might have turned out better too.”

“Don’t be silly, my little angel. You’re the greatest grandson I could ever ask for.” She’d smiled and worried one of his cheeks in that special way she had that made him laugh. But then her eyes had focused on something only she could see. “We can always right our course. We’ll make sure you marry the right sort of woman.”

His grandmother might be dead and gone, but her vow seemed to have survived. He was certain his mother didn’t know about the conversation, but she was nevertheless trying to herd him in exactly the same direction. She despised working women, as if she’d forgotten where she’d come from.

He rocked on his feet, waiting for Hilary’s limo to show. Was he putting her in a bad position? His mother didn’t take kindly to people who got in her way, and she could be spiteful when she was angry. He didn’t want her to take it out on Hilary.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by her. She was sexy, not to mention smart. She’d fascinated him for months, and he’d never waited this long to date a woman before. Would that fact make any difference? Or would he grow bored with her, too…just like he had with all his exes?

When the car finally pulled in, he took a deep breath. The driver opened the door, Hilary stepped out and…

Mark couldn’t remember what had gotten him so anxious.

Hilary was a vision in shimmering white. The dress clung in all the right places, accentuating the beautiful curves of her womanly body. When she met his eyes and gave him a shy little smile, it was as though all the air had suddenly been sucked out of the hangar. His heart quickened, and all he could see was her.

And in that moment, he finally understood what men meant when they said they’d slay a dragon for a woman. The knowledge twisted something inside him. His feelings for her wouldn’t last. He couldn’t imagine them changing, but his past said they would because…he was who he was.

He wished he weren’t Mark Pryce, a man unable to love a woman the way she deserved to be loved. He didn’t know how even if he wanted to. He’d never had a role model to emulate.

It didn’t matter what he felt right now. This “relationship” would ultimately end in a month. So why not try to keep her as a friend at least? He could get through this, with his mother placated and Hilary kept at enough of a distance that she wouldn’t think of him with bitterness when it was all over.

Keep it light
.
Keep it simple
.
Don’t hurt anybody
.

“Hi,” she said, her voice low and husky.

“Hey. You look gorgeous.”

A delicate flush colored her skin. “Thanks.”

“Shall we?” He extended an arm.

“Of course.” Instead of placing her hand in his elbow, she linked her fingers with his. He drew in a sharp breath, then after a moment, squeezed her hand. There was something so gentle and sweet about the way their fingers were entwined…he felt weightless, like all the burdens he carried had vanished.

The concert was the grandest thing Hilary had ever attended. She’d heard of private charity concerts, but had never attended one. From years of working for Gavin, she recognized almost everyone there. Her boss was there with his wife, and next to them sat his brother Ethan and his wife Kerri. Both the couples were as close as they could be without sitting on each other’s laps. Kerri had her head on Ethan’s broad shoulder and a hand on his chest as she watched the orchestra. There was something so intimate and sweet about their love. Longing created a little pang in Hilary’s heart, and she swallowed. She should remember to be grateful for all that she’d accomplished on her own—despite where she’d come from—and just enjoy the moment.

“Did you like it?” Mark asked after the performance was over.

“I loved it. Oh wow.” She gave him a big grin. After years of setting Gavin’s social calendar for him, she was finally experiencing a high society date herself. “Thank you. It was beautiful.”

He grinned back at her. “My pleasure.” He kissed the back of her hand. She shivered at how soft his mouth felt there, and how the little touch made her insides throb. She smiled even more brightly.

The crowd moved to a giant hall set up for a special reception. Bright crystals dripped from numerous chandeliers. The shiny marble floor showed a blurry reflection of the angels and clouds painted on the domed ceiling, and tuxedoed servers wove through the guests to offer them refreshments. Everyone had donated at least twenty thousand dollars to the cause to build schools in some poor country in Africa. Eliza Pryce-Reed was a shrewd fundraiser, and apparently educating and feeding children was her thing.

Standing by Mark’s side, Hilary sipped a glass of champagne and watched the who’s-who of high society mingle. They chatted like they were all best friends, and people greeted each other so sweetly. Everyone was dressed to be seen and noted. Hilary was certain of it. The perfume in the air alone had to cost more than twenty thousand dollars.

A group of people came by to sweep Mark away to get his thought on some venture they were trying to get off the ground. “I shouldn’t leave my date,” he said.

A middle-aged man took a long look at Hilary. “She can come with you I suppose.”

“No, it’s all right,” she said. Most men weren’t comfortable talking business freely in the presence of a woman they didn’t know well. “Go ahead.”

Mark turned to Hilary. “You sure?”

She nodded. “I’ll just go out and get some fresh air while you do your thing.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head.

After he was gone, she stood by the veranda railing. The night glittered with the lights of the city. It was interesting to be at the same social event as her boss, but as a guest rather than some type of support staff. And it was intriguing to observe the way all these wealthy and famous people treated Mark. She’d thought he was popular and good at operating restaurants. But apparently his talents extended beyond that since several people had wanted his opinion on various investments they were considering.

She took a deep breath of the cool evening air, trying to relax. Yeah, Mark was gorgeous, smart and funny. That only made him more impossible for her. Even if he hadn’t been a playboy—and the son of a playboy—he was totally out of her league.

She was a Rosenberg girl. When she was growing up, adults had looked at her with pity and contempt, certain she’d end up just like her mother. Kids had been worse. They’d spat on her and kicked her and called her horrible names. All of them had known she wasn’t worth anything, and it was all she could manage to claw herself out of the fate everyone had been sure would be hers. But that wasn’t enough to date somebody like Mark.

“Whew.” A man came onto the veranda and sighed. “Do you mind if I hide out here for a bit?”

“Not at all,” she said, bemused and glad for a distraction. He looked just like Mark except for the dark eyes. And his exceptionally clean and classic profile confirmed her suspicion. “Are you one of the Pryce brothers?”

“Yeah. Iain.” He gave her a long stare. “You’re Hilary Rosenberg, right?”

“Yes,” she said, a little surprised.

“I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hopefully it was mostly complimentary.” Then she remembered the YouTube video and winced inwardly. Maybe not.

He gave her a lopsided grin that looked remarkably like Mark’s. But Iain didn’t make her breath catch or insides warm. “Don’t worry. So, did he beg you to save him from having to date and possibly marry the dreaded heiress?” His eyes sparkled. “I hope you made him get on his knees. You deserve at least that much.”

Self-conscious, she laughed. “Stop teasing.”

“Do I look like the teasing type to you?” He leaned against the railing and they looked out over the city lights. “I’m always serious about women.”

“Mmm. The way Mark is, I’m sure.”

He turned his head and studied her. “You’re pretty direct.”

“Is there any point in not being direct?”

“I suppose not.” He gave her another easy smile. “I can see why my brother’s into you. You’re more interesting than Katarina. So why are you hiding out here? Do you need some solitude away from my no-good brother?”

“No, it’s because some finance guys stole me away from her,” Mark said from behind them. His hands settled around her waist, and it was all she could do to not melt into his warmth. “If you stay here much longer, Mom’s going to track you down. You know how she is.”

Iain sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I should’ve followed Dane’s example and just run off.”

“Ah, but the heir is poised to return,” Mark said in a pompous announcer’s voice, “so you’ll be safe again soon enough.”

Hilary tilted her head and looked up at Mark. “When?”

“In a few weeks for the Fourth of July party.”

And based on what Kim had said, he wouldn’t be going back to wherever he lived. That was much faster than Hilary had expected.

“Come on. Let’s go back in and mingle.” Mark lowered his head and whispered into her ear, “I want us to be seen. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

Mine
.

Her stomach fluttered at such a possessive word. Warmth started at the small of her back where his hand still rested and spread to the rest of her. She wanted to lean just a little bit closer to him, angle her body just so, but she swallowed hard and resisted the urge. This was a make-believe relationship. After it was over, he’d return to what he did best—going from one Quarterly Girl to another. Everyone here probably knew she was one…except she was only going to last a month.

Did they pity her?

Despite her apprehensions, everyone Mark introduced her to was gracious. Most knew who she was—Gavin’s trusted assistant. That probably helped, since most people knew how much her boss liked her, and not many people wanted to offend Gavin.

Toward the end of the event, Hilary slipped away to the ladies’ room. Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk so much, but it was difficult to resist the best champagne and cocktails money could buy, and waiters had ensured she was never empty-handed.

As she was finishing up in a stall, she heard a few women walk in. One of them sniffed loudly, while two others moved around, their shoes clacking against the tiled floor.

“Did you see that redheaded cow he brought here?” Woman Number One said, sniffing again.

“I know. What an ass. And I don’t mean hers. I can’t believe he downgraded. What does he see in her?”

“He must like them shameless. Did you see how she was strutting around? Where did she even find a Dior that huge? I’m surprised her heels don’t break under all that weight.”

“He could take her down to Texas. Every other step and she’d strike oil.”

There was tittering laughter. Hilary put her hands on her suddenly hot cheeks.

“Crap. I can’t find my lipstick,” a third woman said.

Some rustling and clattering, and Woman Number Two said, “Try mine. It’s almost the same shade.”

“Thanks.” A short pause. “It galls me how people can’t see what she really is. For god’s sake, she’s a secretary.”

“Yup. Bet she got her job because she’s good at…”

Hilary strained to hear what the other woman was saying, but obviously she wasn’t going to say it out loud. Or maybe Hilary just couldn’t hear over the roar of her blood in her ears.

A moment later all the women burst out laughing. “Oh my god! Who would want that from somebody who looks like her?”

“Some men like them chubby. Besides, she has that trashy look going on.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if her family’s been on one of those daytime talk shows.” Woman Number Two put on a twangy accent. “‘How could you fuck mah sister while you were wit
me?
Ah even had your
baybee!’
”

The ensuing giggles sounded garbled and distant as spots appeared in Hilary’s vision. How could they know? Was it that obvious? It was shameful to admit, but the fact was both her mother and aunt would’ve been more than happy to be on one of those programs. She could just imagine them, twin sisters fighting over who deserved Tim more…except he’d been generally unavailable for that kind of confrontation. There had been too many women to screw to bother with TV.

“…let her enjoy her Cinderella moment,” Woman Number Three was saying. “Soon the clock’s going to strike midnight. You know Mark. She’ll be lucky to last one month, much less three.”

“No shit. Taylor, you’ll get him back.”

“Oh, I plan to,” Woman Number One said.

The voices dwindled as the three women exited.

Her knees weak, Hilary opened the door of the stall and peered out. Her reflection stared back from the big mirror, and suddenly her entire ensemble—the dress, the earrings, her make-up, everything—looked ludicrous, like expensive window dressing on a dime-store mannequin.

The women were wrong. She wasn’t even Cinderella. In the fairy tale, everyone thought she was a princess…because deep down, Cinderella was a princess kind of girl. Hilary wasn’t like that. It didn’t matter what she wore or whose arm she was gracing. She could never hide who she was. What she was.

She was a messed up girl from a messed up family. She didn’t belong here.

* * *

Mark could tell something was wrong the instant Hilary returned from the bathroom. She was so pale, not even the makeup could hide it. “Hey, you all right?” He took her hand, and the iciness of her skin shocked him. Her eyes were glazed, but it couldn’t have been from drinking. She’d been fine when she left. “Hilary, baby, talk to me. Are you all right?”