One Season And Dynasties Collection

Inside, Ethan gave his name and they were immediately escorted to the private salon. A man in a pinstriped suit introduced himself as Jeremy Markham.

Again Holly remembered hearing Ethan on the phone that morning with his assistant, Nathan, mentioning a Diane and a Jeremy. Diane was clothes...obviously Jeremy was jewels. Ethan had everything figured out.

“Jeremy, we will need some help with a wardrobe of jewelry in the weeks to come, but today we would like to choose a diamond ring.”

“Of course, sir. May I present a selection?”

Ethan nodded.

A private appointment to pick out an engagement ring? Ho-hum, just an ordinary day.

“Please, sit down.” Jeremy, chin up high, held a chair out for Holly after giving her a once-over. Like Diane with the clothes, had this salesman who clearly only dealt with VIPs already figured out that Holly was just one big fake? Another opportunist going after a rich man’s money.

Using a key extracted from his jacket pocket, Jeremy let himself into a back room.

Ethan pulled a chair next to Holly’s.

“Check these out!” she exclaimed at the glass case to the left of them.

A heritage collection of gemstone jewelry was on display. Elaborate necklaces and bracelets made from pounds of gold and carat upon carat of colorful stones. The pieces were too ornate for her taste, but she was attracted to the hues.

What had really caught her eye was a simple ring of blue topaz. The stone was a large oval cut, bordered on each side by two small diamonds.

“Look at how stunning that ring is. That blue is so brilliant it’s blinding. Light is bouncing off it in twenty different directions.”

Holly’s eyes were light blue, like the stone. It had always been her favorite color from as far back as she could remember. Maybe that was why she’d instantly fallen in love with the sky-blue evening gown Ethan had bought for her.

While it had always been pink for girls and blue for boys Holly, as usual, had swum against the stream. It wasn’t as if the trailer she’d lived in with her mom and brother had had any décor to it. The walls had been covered in flowery peeling wallpaper. Sheets and blankets had always been chosen by what was on clearance sale, which had usually translated to scratchy fabrics with dark prints. But Holly could remember a few occasions when her father had been in town for a day or so with some money and bought her new clothes. She’d always chosen items in shades of blue.

“It’s just dazzling,” she continued, pointing to the ring. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Ethan glanced over to it and shrugged his shoulders, indifferent.

Jeremy returned with two velvet trays that held a wide variety of ring styles, all with humongous diamonds.

Ethan whispered to Holly, “We ought to be able to find something perfect amongst these.”

She shot one final glance at the astounding blue topaz. “Whatever you say. You’re the boss...”

“Feng, we will start with hot and sour soup. Follow that with the chef’s special duck, beef with broccoli, shrimp chow mein. And oolong tea.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ethan.” The waiter bowed and hurried away.

After the jewelry store, Ethan had instructed Leonard to drive them to Chinatown. Now he and Holly were comfortably ensconced in a booth at a casual restaurant his family often frequented when they were in New York.

“I am famished,” Ethan proclaimed. “Shopping is exhausting.”

With a suitably enormous diamond engagement ring now on Holly’s finger, the day’s checklist was complete. They had been downtown, midtown, and now back downtown, but he was craving familiar food.

“Do you do a lot of shopping?” Holly questioned.

“I suppose I do my fair share, but it is not an activity I have a feeling for one way or another,” he lied.

Watching Holly model one comely outfit after another would rank pretty darn high on his list of pleasurable pastimes. Although a lot of his other work had been accomplished today as well, thanks to the convenience of technology. Securing a fiancée had been at the top of his to-do list.

“Do you...” Holly twirled a lock of her raven hair “...shop for women on a regular basis?”

Hmm...fishing, was she?

“Women have dragged me to find gold in China, the finest silks in India, the best leather in Buenos Aires, if that is what you are asking.”

She brushed her bangs out of her eyes and sat up straight. “Oh.”

The previous women in his life were a sore point with him. In fact Ethan and women had never been a good combination, period. Going all the way back to his mother. Other than Aunt Louise, every woman Ethan had encountered seemed to him to be one hundred percent selfish. Only out for what they could get. Gifts, money, travel, status—you name it.

Which was why he was resolute that he’d never fall in love. To love you had to trust. And that was something he was never going to be tricked into again.

So it was a logical step for him to dream up this scheme that would allow Aunt Louise to think Ethan had found lifelong love as she had with Uncle Mel. Ethan would never have to marry a woman whose motivation he’d question. Intention, compensation and expectation were all upfront with this plan. It might be the brainiest partnership deal he’d ever conceived.

“Hot and sour soup.” Feng placed the steaming bowl on the table. While he ladled out two servings he questioned, “May I ask if Mrs. Louise is feeling better?”

His aunt Louise had been in New York several times in the past few months. Feng had probably seen her more recently than Ethan had.

“Was she unwell when she was last here?”

The waiter pursed his lips and bowed his head, which said more than any words could.

Ethan’s heart sank. This validated the fact that he was on the right track. Doing whatever it took to get Aunt Louise to retire and relax in Barbados before worse things than stumbles and bruises stole her dignity.

It was all going to work out.

As long as Ethan continued to stare past but not into Holly Motta’s face. Because when he did steal a glance she didn’t look like a business proposition. Or a gold-digger out to get what she deemed hers. With that slouch she kept correcting, and that milky skin, and the hint of ache in her eyes...

No, she was a living, breathing, kindred spirit who could shred his master plan into a million slices if he wasn’t careful.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked with her spoon in the air.

“Like what?” Ethan threw back his head with an exaggerated nonchalance.

She gave him a mock frown.

“Eat your soup,” he told her.

One very ungenteel slurp later... “Yummo!”

“We should learn more about each other if we are to be convincing as a couple. You clearly like food.”

He mocked her slurp until they were both laughing.

“My turn,” she said. “You’re an only child.”

“You have one brother.”

“You studied at Oxford.”

“What is your favorite movie?”

Holly dismissed him with a wave of her hand. “Are you kidding me? If we’re going to get to know each other we have to get real. What is the one thing that has hurt you the most in your life?”

His mother. Of course it was his mother. Nothing could devastate a nine-year-old boy more than being left behind by his mother. It was horrible enough that his father had died instantly when a drunk driver had plowed into his car at racing speed, killing him instantly. But then shortly after that to lose his mother in the way he had... It was unthinkable.

“Beef with snow peas. Shrimp chow mein. Chef’s special duck,” Feng announced as he and another waiter positioned the platters in the center of the table. “Please enjoy.”

Saved by the duck.

Ethan wasn’t going to expose his darkness and despair to someone he’d met only yesterday. As a matter of fact he wasn’t in the habit of talking about his feelings with anyone. It was better that way.

He scooped a portion of each dish onto his and Holly’s plates.

But wasn’t it rather amazing that this woman was so genuine she didn’t want to discuss trivial matters?

As she lifted her chopsticks to grab at her chow mein he admired the diamond ring he had put on her finger. It was staggering in its size and clarity, and he knew any woman would be filled with pride to wear something so timeless and flawless.

Yet he could kick himself because he hadn’t bought her the blue topaz ring she had admired at the store!

Quick thinking had told him to buy the type of ring that was expected of him. Anything other than a traditional diamond engagement ring would invite inquiry. Such as where and why and what sentiments had inspired him to buy such an unusual ring. Those were extra questions they didn’t need. It would just add to the risk of them flubbing up as a believable couple.

But now he thought blue ring, purple ring, green ring—what would it matter if that was what she wanted?

Pulsing and vibrant, Holly Motta had careened into his apartment with blue paint on her face and, he feared, had changed his life forever. Forcing him to think about women differently than he ever had. Making him for the first time vaguely envision a role in which he cared if someone was happy. Edging him into speculation about what it would be like if someone cared about his happiness, too.

And now she was making it hard to concentrate on anything other than leaping across the table and planting a kiss on that sweet mouth that was busy with noodles.

After a bite of food to steady himself, Ethan resumed their interview. “Tell me something about yourself that I would not have guessed.”

“I used to be—” she blurted, and then abruptly stopped herself. She put her chopsticks down and took a slow sip of her tea. Trying to recover, she finished with, “A pretty good softball player.”

Aha, so it wasn’t as easy for her to be as open and candid as she wanted him to believe it was. What had she been about to say that had proved too difficult to reveal? And what had she avoided telling him at breakfast that morning about the mother she’d characterized as unpredictable?

He’d gone along with her easy sincerity, but Ethan really didn’t know the first thing about her. He’d garnered that she’d had a difficult childhood, but it wasn’t like him to take anyone at face value. Not after what he’d seen of life.

Guard and defend.

He had his family’s empire to protect.

“Excuse me,” he said as he put his chopsticks down and pulled out his phone. “I have just remembered one more bit of business for the day.”

He texted Chip Foley, Benton Worldwide’s Head of Security. Just as he’d intended to do if he’d hired an actress for the fiancée job.

Chip, please run everything you can on a Holly Motta from Fort Pierce, Florida. Claims her occupation is artist. I would place her age at about thirty. Tall, slim, blue eyes, black hair. She says her brother Vince works for us in Miami. I do not know if it is the same last name. Do an across-the-board check on her for me.

After hitting the “send” button, his eyes returned to Holly.

She pointed her chopsticks at him and taunted, “Hey, you never told me what it was in your life that hurt you the most.”

CHAPTER SIX

IT WAS THE dead of night, but Holly could still hear New York outside the bedroom window. Cars drove by. A dog barked. People laughed boisterously on the street.

The city that never slept.

Lying in Ethan’s bed, with her head sinking into his soft pillows, she could hardly make sense of the day. Visiting Soho galleries, buying all those art supplies, a new wardrobe, a diamond ring... Then that dinner in Chinatown.

She’d lived a lifetime in the last twenty-four hours.

Ethan was just beyond the door in the living room. Was he sleeping? Was he working? Or was he lying awake thinking about her as she was of him?

Of course not, Holly reminded herself. Ethan Benton had more important things on his mind then his wife for hire. She’d better remember that.

But when they’d watched each other’s faces at the restaurant it had seemed as if maybe she would, in fact, linger in his thoughts and keep him up at night. He’d looked at her as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be. The restaurant might have been crowded and clamoring, but he’d never taken his eyes off her.

Through most of the evening they would have convinced anyone they were an engaged couple. Finishing each other’s sentences... Digging their chopsticks into each other’s plates...

And then there had been those awkward moments when they’d asked each other questions neither was ready to answer.

Holly hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell Ethan that she had been married. She feared he would think of her as a used product and not want to go through with their agreement. He didn’t need to know about her mistake in marrying someone who hadn’t loved her for who she was. Who hadn’t supported the person she wanted to become. Ricky Dowd wasn’t a name that ever needed to come up in conversation.

They would go through with their pretend engagement so that Ethan could protect his aunt as her health declined. And, as he’d said, either they would continue to meet for official occasions or eventually call off their deal. Whatever happened, Ethan would never have to know about Holly’s wasted time on wrong decisions that tonight seemed like a million years ago.

Just as she might not find out what he was hiding because he didn’t want to tell her what had caused him the most hurt in his life. It had to be something terrible, because both times when he’d avoided the topic his eyes had turned to coal.

But the rest of the evening was a dream she never wanted to wake from. When they had got to unimportant questions, like favorite movies and television shows, they’d laughed themselves dizzy remembering jokes from silly comedies. Laughed some more about bad childhood haircuts and mean teachers they’d hated in school.

They had stayed long after the restaurant had emptied, until the staff had been ready to leave. Feng had walked them out to the street and waved them goodbye as they’d tucked themselves into the car so Leonard could deposit them home.

Holly drifted off to sleep, replaying over and over again how Ethan had gently kissed the back of her hand and thanked her for an unforgettable day before he closed the bedroom door.

In the morning, Ethan scrutinized his unshaven face in the bathroom mirror. He hadn’t laughed as much as he had last night in a long time. Truth be told, he couldn’t remember ever laughing that much. Everything was full power with Holly. Near her, he felt alive with a liquid fire.

That might burn down his life as he knew it.

After showering and dressing, he charted a direct route into the kitchen toward the coffeepot.

“Morning,” she greeted him.

“Yes.”

He was careful not to touch her as he crossed behind her in the tiny kitchen to pour a cup. It took stupendous will not to reach for her, to put his arms around her waist and find out what her hair might smell like if his face was buried in it.

Instead, more guarding and defending.

He gained distance by busying himself with checking the morning’s urgencies on his tablet. His approval was needed on important architectural specifications for the Jersey City project. An email chain between several of the interested parties provided updates. Thank heavens for work. He needed the interruption from his growing and wholly off-track desires for more than what he’d signed up for with Holly.

Despite his efforts, his eyes of their own volition kept darting upward from the screen as he watched her lay out a light breakfast of toast and juice.

“Right, then, we have an important day,” he directed as soon as they’d sat down with their food. “Aunt Louise and Fernando will arrive at six o’clock. She does not like to stay out late in the evening. We should have dinner on the table by seven.”

“I made a shopping list,” Holly reported. “I’ll go to the store, then get the pot roast into the slow cooker.”

“I have several meetings today. Can you manage the shopping on your own?”

She snickered. “I’ve been doing the grocery shopping since I was seven years old. I think I can handle a New York City supermarket.”

“I am the one who would have trouble.”

“But after that I’ll need you for the painting. I have the canvas size I want. And I’ll use acrylic so it will dry quickly. We’ll hang it later this afternoon, and no one will be any the wiser that I only painted it today.”

With a busy day ahead, he’d selectively forgotten that he had agreed to her doing a painting of him. He had no time for posing. Although a painting by her would be a very eye-catching and convincing symbol that they were really a couple.

Plus, it would put him in proximity with her from midday. Which he had to admit he’d be looking forward to.

He mentally reprimanded himself for that thought.

In front of the building, Ethan watched Holly walk down the block while Leonard held the car door open for him. Her glossy hair swung to and fro. It was another gloomy day, but dry at the moment. Her jeans and that black leather jacket she seemed to favor would be sufficient for her shopping trip. Why he was concerned with how she was dressed for the weather was baffling. And disturbing.

But what would a Florida girl know about winter? She might catch cold...

Leonard ferried him from one appointment to the next. The low-income housing project in the Bronx was behind schedule and over budget. He pored over blueprints with the architect until they found a way to enlarge the kitchens for the exterior-facing units. The architect was feuding with the contractor over the selection of materials, but that always seemed to be the case. Ethan was able to smooth some ruffled feathers.

He stopped at the hotel where the shareholders’ gala would be held on Saturday. Gave his authorization for the layout of the ballroom. Visualizing the room full of formally dressed people, he could picture them raising their champagne glasses as Aunt Louise offered a toast to him and Holly. His bride-to-be would charm the crowd with her engaging smile and shimmering gown...

In the silence of the empty ballroom, Ethan’s heart pleaded for something he couldn’t fully grasp. A dull ache thudded in the center of his chest.

Swiftly shoving those confusing feelings aside, he hurried out through the hotel doors to Leonard’s car and his next meeting.

The multi-use development in Chelsea had come a long way since he’d last seen it. As he strode through he offered dozens of hellos to the many workers laboring on the project’s five buildings. It was for this large venture that he’d offered Holly the commission to do the artwork. The opportunity that had sealed the negotiations for her to agree to pose as his fiancée.

Ethan’s interior designer had been intrigued to hear about the up-and-coming artist from Florida he had brought onto the job. He had provided Stella with Holly’s website address.

Midday, he returned to the apartment. Holly must not have had any trouble with the slow cooker, because the aroma of cooking meat practically had him salivating.

“My, my...” he said as he removed his coat and hung it on the rack.

The open area by the living room window had been turned into a temporary artist’s studio.

“I’ve been working.”

“I can see.”

The easel they had bought yesterday was unpacked and in use. A side table with a tarp thrown over it for protection had become a paint station. Another tarp covered the area’s floor.

“What have you done with my apartment?”

“Hey, I thought it was my apartment.”

“Tonight it will be our apartment.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll clean it all up after I do the painting of you.”

“What do we have here?”

Three pastel drawings on paper lay on the floor. Moving vehicles was their theme. One was a bright yellow taxi done in abstracted horizontal lines that made it look as if it was in motion. Ditto for a blue city bus motoring along. And likewise for a silver train car that appeared to be whizzing by.

“I was working out some ideas. Will there be a valet and transportation station at the Chelsea development?”

Of course. He nodded with immediate understanding. Paintings like this would be stylish and hip, and convey the movement of the city. They’d be perfect. Even if their marriage arrangement proved to be the wrong move, Ethan was at least sure he’d hired an artist who would produce what he needed for the multi-million-dollar project.

“Excellent.”

“We’d better not waste any time. When can you be ready to sit for me?”

A grin tried to crack at his mouth. “Let me just wash up. Dinner smells delicious.”

Minutes later, he stepped onto the tarp of her studio area.

“I am ready for you,” he said bravely, with arms outstretched.

In reality, he didn’t know what to expect. Was not at all comfortable with how Holly might portray him. He reminded himself that this was ultimately for the good of Aunt Louise. He could put up with a little uneasiness for the sake of her wellbeing.

“I’ll have you sitting on the stool.” Holly, all business, gestured for him to take his place.

She studied him intently. Backed away to get one perspective. Inched to the side for another. Then came in close. So close he could feel the heat of her body, which made him want to do anything but sit still.

“What are you deciding on?”

“The perspective. I think I’ll do it at an angle that’s a partial profile.”

“Will it be only my face?”

She ran a finger across his upper chest from shoulder to shoulder to illustrate the cut-off point. Blood pumped double-time to every inch of him she touched. He instinctively leaned away.

“Don’t worry. I won’t bite.”

His voice came out a jagged growl. “It was not you I was worried about.”

She smiled quizzically for several beats. His chest muscles continued to vibrate from her touch.

It occurred to him that for all the questions they’d asked each other about favorite things and childhood memories, they hadn’t talked about past relationships.

Had a man broken her heart? Had she broken someone’s? Was she looking for love?

Did she wonder about him?

Love wasn’t on the bargaining table in their business deal. He’d never loved. Didn’t love. Wouldn’t love. That was a contract signed a long time ago.

Holly programmed some upbeat music into her phone and began. She wanted to do a preliminary pencil drawing on paper, and when she was satisfied with that move on to paint and canvas.

With a last adjustment to his angle, she requested, “Try not to move.”

“Do I need to be silent?”

“I’ll let you know when I’m sketching your mouth. Just keep your head still when you talk.”

With his face turned toward the window, it was odd to feel her eyes on him when he couldn’t see her face. Odd, but spine-tingling. And erotic. He wished he could rip off his clothes and have her paint him in the nude.

Holly made him want to let go of the well-bred and well-mannered businessman he was. With her, he wanted to howl naked under the moonlight. And to ravage her with the savage passion he kept tightly caged inside him.

“Can you soften your facial expression?” she asked, making him realize that he was not masking his arousal.

He neutralized his jaw.

“Tell me about your morning,” she coaxed.

He appreciated her trying to help him relax. “There are ongoing issues with my housing development in the Bronx. I want to build the maximum number of comfortable units on the property to give as many families as possible a home of their own.”