A Weekend of Misbehaving (3 page)

Not of your body. Most definitely not.
The answer got trapped in his throat. “Why did you take your clothes off?”

She licked her lips. “I’m sorry. I had a crappy day, Mr. B, and I felt like throwing caution to the wind, which I totally agree shouldn’t have happened at your home.”

He studied her face, and he couldn’t believe she was so nonchalant about nudity. Exposure. Vulnerability. His stare dropped to her soft neck, then to her full breasts. “Couldn’t you just…take a bath if you needed to relax?”
Like a regular person.

A nervous laugh filled the room. “There is a difference between taking a routine bath and skinny-dipping.”

Oh, he knew the difference. Discussing it with his employee, however, was out of the question. He headed to the console and poured himself a shot of whisky. Neat. “What I know is that we’re going to go to Capri and pose as a couple. Whether we want to or not.”

“Is this an order?”

He lifted the square glass to his lips and drank the contents in one clumsy gulp. The alcohol burned his throat but didn’t smother his chuckle. “Yes. One you can’t decline. Has it occurred to you I can fire you like that?” He snapped his fingers.

She drew back and concern flickered in her eyes. “But you are not?” She pronounced each word carefully.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of Viola for months. I finally got twenty minutes of her time, and guess what? She likes you. For whatever reason,” he said, running his hand into his hair.

She batted her eyelashes and smiled. “Thanks, Mr. B. I don’t mean to rain on your parade, but I need something in return. Very badly.”

Job security?
He pursed his lips. Until today, he hadn’t given a thought to Alice, clothed or naked. He sat on the wood console and reached for the whisky bottle. “Besides a first-class ticket, deluxe accommodations, and a free trip?”

“Yes. Besides all that.”

Pouring another shot, he stared at her. “What do you want?”

Without wavering, she closed the gap between them and yanked the glass from his hand. He blinked and was about to protest when she took a drink, swallowing the eighteen-year-old scotch faster than he had. “Twenty thousand dollars.” She set the glass down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Chump change for him. “You have a very specific number in mind,” he said, more to himself than to her. “Why?”

She sauntered to the middle of the living room, her legs a bit wobbly. Then she spun on her feet to face him. “That’s all I need. And that’s a steal for you.”

The money wasn’t the problem. The way her eyes brightened when she talked about it, though…as if she needed it. Badly. Was his nanny in trouble? On drugs? After Kristin’s prescription medication addiction—the last straw in their doomed marriage—he swore to himself he would never allow that kind of madness near his daughter. Ever. “Tell me what you will do with it, and I’ll be happy to oblige.”

She looked away from him. “It’s personal stuff.”

“It’s not personal if it involves
my
money. Are you in debt? Gambling? Buying a new house?” He drew in a breath. “Drugs?”

“No,” she rushed to say. “Mr. B, with all due respect, in the twelve months I have worked for you, you never bothered to ask me a personal question after hiring me. Now you’re suddenly Dr. Phil?”

The impossible comparison almost changed his resolve. Alice Sommers had a screw loose somewhere, even though when it came to taking care of his daughter she was kindhearted and trustworthy. Or was she? “Tell me,” he insisted.

“Look, on a crap-o-meter scale from one to ten, my day was an eleven. If you want me to go to Capri and deceive the bird lady, I need twenty grand. Otherwise, you’ll just have to find another fiancée to go with you.”

He curled and uncurled his fists. Nanny was showing her spunk, wasn’t she? Who cared why she needed it? Her life was none of his business. Except…it was. Maybe spending a few days with her would give him insight. What if she was hooked on something? That would mean he would have to send her to a rehab clinic, and she wouldn’t be able to come to New York City with them. No. That couldn’t happen. “I’ll give it to you when we come back to make sure you…continue your Academy Award-worthy performance.”

“What about Cara?”

Right.
He rubbed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Her welfare is my main concern. She’ll be at camp until next week, so perhaps we should visit her before we take off. That said, she’s not to know about any of it.”

She stretched her hand to him, and he took it in his. He’d always been proud of his firm, quick, powerful handshake. Yet when his palm brushed hers, a bolt of energy shot up his arm, sending a tingle that would have spread throughout had he not quickly withdrawn his hand from hers.

“You got yourself an adorable fake fiancée, Mr. B. For a bargain, too.”

Bargain? He dipped his head and stared right into her chestnut eyes. His pulse quickened, and he turned away. Something told him the price would be much higher than a mere twenty thousand dollars.

Chapter Two

“W
hy are you going away, auntie? You’re gonna miss my dance recital,” Brenda said, frowning as if someone just told her she had to eat broccoli for lunch. Even her beautiful green eyes, usually scintillating and full of life, darkened.

Oh man.
Falling for her sad face was out of the question. Well, not today. Ruffling the little girl’s dirty-blond hair, Alice smiled. “I’m sorry about missing your recital. I’ll have your mom record it for me.”

Brenda folded her arms. “It’s not the same.”

Don’t I know it.
Alice’s heart squeezed. She had never missed a recital since Brenda started dance lessons three years ago. And she was the one paying for them, too. “I have an idea. Why don’t you rehearse it front of me one more time so I will remember it while I’m away?” she suggested.

“Fine. Remember, I’m Olaf.” Giggling, Brenda turned on the iPod, and one of the songs from
Frozen
blasted through the living room. Emotion floated up Alice’s throat and lodged there like a large ball of hesitation. She resisted the urge to reach for her cell phone to snap pictures or even make a video. Smiling, she focused on watching her cute six-year-old mini-me dance and twirl.

Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked them back.

“She’s dancing again? Even I know those steps by heart now,” Rachel said behind her, and Alice turned to meet her sister.

Rachel slumped on the couch and skimmed an old
In Touch
magazine. She’d been working part time at a department store in the mall, and for the past few weeks they had been episode free. Which meant her sister hadn’t felt overwhelmed or stopped her medications.

Whenever Rachel had a meltdown, Alice took charge and handled everything. Their mother tried to help, too, but ever since Judy started to have high blood pressure, Alice had been especially careful to shield her mother from additional stress.

Alice headed to her bedroom, then opened her packed closet, where a myriad of colorful pieces fought for space like One Direction fans camping out in front of the band’s hotel.

“Why are you going on a trip?” Mom asked, standing on the threshold.

“I told you, Mom. It’s work stuff.” Thank goodness she loved sewing. Being a proud plus-size woman in her late twenties had taught her to take fashion matters into her own hands and make the dresses she wanted to wear. If she had relied on her skinny sister for wardrobe exchange, she’d have been in serious trouble.

“I thought Cara was at a camp.”

“She is. This is something else.” She removed a couple dresses from hangers, and after a quick assessment, folded and placed them in her secondhand carry-on bag. What did one take on a trip to impress people and come across as a suitable wife-to-be for a millionaire? Viola’s assistant had emailed information about a Marie Antoinette-themed party. She had sent their measurements to an Italian specialty costume shop—and used Lorenzo’s credit card to ensure they would ship the costumes straight to Viola’s place. But, besides that, she wasn’t really sure what else to bring.

The thought brought sourness to her stomach. How hard would pretending to be his fiancée be?

In one crap-filled evening, she had been roughed-up by a loan shark, skinny-dipped, lied, and blackmailed her boss. How much more difficult could some acting on the weekend be? Oh, goodness.
I’m fucked, and not in the fun way.
In six days, Buck would be knocking on her door and would have her ass if she didn’t come up with twenty grand.

“What do you mean by something else?” her mother insisted, and Alice knew better than to lie to Judy Sommers.

“There’s been a misunderstanding, and someone thinks Mr. B and I are engaged. The business deal means a lot to him, and he’s asked me to go out of town for a weekend of fun in Italy.”

“You’ll be pretending to be his fiancée?” her mother asked, folding her arms across her blue scrubs.

“When you say it like that…it sounds so official.” She opened the bottom drawer and fetched out a few pairs of underwear. The scrap of a red-lace number teased her, and she stretched her fingers and touched it. It was a sexy bodice she had bought during a Frederick’s of Hollywood online sale a year ago. Why would she take it with her?

“Alice Rae Sommers. You can’t get involved with him. Remember Joshua?”

Have you learned nothing from Joshua the jerk? The man broke up with you via Facebook, woman.
“Oh, trust me, Mom, it will never happen,” she said firmly. Although her attraction to Lorenzo was…different than anything she ever experienced. Sure, there was the thrill of the forbidden, but the way her body responded to him when he made no attempt at all to seduce her was scary. How would she respond if he tried? Could someone die from an orgasmic implosion? “I’m more worried about leaving you guys behind than Mr. B jumping my bones.”

“Oh, please. We’ll be fine without you,” her mother said, and injected so much energy into her voice that it had the opposite effect. Maybe she’d fool someone else. Not Alice.

“Are you sure?” Alice asked. “It will only be for a couple of days, but you need to take care of yourself while I’m gone. Especially after your ulcer.”

Her mother plopped down on her bed and lifted her hands in the air. “I raised both of you. I’m a nurse. I know a thing or two about keeping things under control.”

“Today’s Thursday. I’ll be back on Monday. It’ll go by fast. You’re taking your blood-pressure medication, right?”

Her mother ran her fingers through her short red hair. “Will you stop worrying? There is no need.”

But she did worry. Especially after her mother’s visit last month to the ER because of stress-induced high blood pressure. Alice folded the bodice into a ball and tossed it to the back of her closet. She bit the inside of her cheek, fully aware she couldn’t tell her mother about Buck and his threat. Hell, she hadn’t even told her sister about him. She had questioned her, yes. That’s how she found out Rachel had resorted to a loan shark after accumulating multiple health-related bills. Before Alice started working for Mr. B, Rachel had no insurance to cover her medical costs.

“I’ll be working a double shift at the hospital, but I’ll make sure to check in with Rachel whenever I can and attend Brenda’s recital on Saturday,” her mother said.

Alice closed the bag and was about to question her mother’s crazy schedule, then clamped her lips and decided to let it go. For now. “Thanks, Mom.”

A knock on the door yanked her from her musings. “There’s a limo out front,” Rachel yelled from the living room. “Your fancy ride is here, Alice.”

Alice barely had time to plant a kiss on her mother’s cheek and wave at Rachel and Brenda before dashing out the door, with her good ol’ Betsey Johnson bag in tow. When the driver opened the door, she expected to find dashing Mr. B inside the vehicle. Instead it was empty.

“Mr. Baldi asked me to drop him off earlier to visit Cara at her camp. He said she asked to see you, too, so I can take you, and from there we’ll head to the airport,” Gordon, the driver, offered.

“Sure,” she said, sliding her fingers over the buttery soft leather. She touched a button, and the efficient AC kicked up a notch and blasted cool air in her face.

She picked up her sketchbook from her bag and took advantage of the smooth ride to draw a couple dresses.

“We’re here, miss.” Gordon brought the car to a stop. She nodded, then got out.

High heels probably hadn’t been the wisest choice to brave the organized wilderness of the camp. She spotted Cara and Lorenzo at the shaded area, where picnic tables were arranged under the canopy of huge oak trees. A couple kids waved at her, and she noticed a group on horseback riding not that far from them.

“Alice!” Cara shouted and ran to her, practically throwing herself at her with a giggle. “I miss you so much.”

“Same here, kiddo.” Alice hugged her tight, and somehow it seemed in just a couple days her little girl had grown. Was it possible? Cara was already one of the tallest girls in her class. Wait.
Her
little girl? Alice shook her head. “Are you having the best time ever?”

A sharp clearing of throat made her look up. Lorenzo stood, both legs apart and firmly pressed on the dirt ground, one hand jammed in his pocket, and the other fixing his black Prada sunglasses.

“And behaving, of course. Are you behaving?” She winked at Cara, who winked back.

“Of course. Look, I already have a special badge.”

For the next hour, she heard all of Cara’s exciting camp stories, and her breath caught in her throat as if she were trying to squeeze on a size twelve. She had to go through with the fake engagement charade to ensure she and her family would be okay. Where else would she find kick-ass health insurance that accepted Rachel as her dependent?

Yet Cara’s future was also in play. Alice enjoyed spending time with the little girl, helping her with homework, and taking care of her when she was sick. What would happen if she didn’t pull off her role as fake fiancée? Would Mr. B fire her? No way. That was ridiculous. Or was it?

“We have to go, Cara
mia.
I’ll pick you up next week.” Lorenzo kneeled on the ground and drew his daughter into his arms for a hug.

“And we can do something together, then?” Cara asked, cupping his face with both hands.

“Whatever you want. Love you.” He kissed her cheeks. “Your counselor has my number. If anything happens, she’ll call me, okay? I’ll be out of town, but I’ll be back in a heartbeat for you.”

Cara smiled. “I know, Daddy.”

The serenity that swirled around Cara faded as they said good-bye.

“She seems like she’s having a great time,” Alice said, unable to keep up with the stride of Lorenzo’s long legs as they walked to the car. Or maybe she was too busy glancing at his nice ass to worry about her pace. Those tight, firm buttocks had the power to bring female soldiers home from war.

“Alice.” His curt voice abruptly pulled her from her dirty musings.

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her dry mouth, and she swallowed hard. “Yes, Mr. B?”

“Lorenzo. From now on, I’m Lorenzo to you.” He came to a halt and turned to face her.

Lorenzo. Oh, the many ways she could pronounce his name. Scream it. Whimper it. Her sex hummed in full agreement.
Get it together, Alice.
Find a celebrity to crush on—not a man she had to work for every day. “Okay. Lorenzo, it is. Wait. Maybe I could come up with a cute nickname?”

“No,” he growled. “Let’s not get carried away.”

Idiot.
How did a man with zero charisma melt her panties?

He pulled out his phone and sent a text message. “By the way, the janitor told me a man was talking to you in front of the building yesterday.”

Who knew the janitor was a gossip? If she had, she could have engaged in some interesting conversations with him about the lady from 34A who spent lots of quality time with the chiseled pool boy. And Mrs. Trevor didn’t even own a pool. “And?”

“Who was he?”

The limo pulled up, and before Gordon got out and opened the door for them, Lorenzo beat him to the punch. He gestured for her to enter the car, and she slid inside. A strange awareness poured over her, which was downright weird. Why was she so nervous? He wasn’t even paying any attention to her—he never had. Better that way.

“A friend. Why?” she said, shifting in the seat to get as far from him as possible.

Lorenzo sat across from her, stretching his long legs. “He wasn’t selling you drugs, was he?”

Drugs? “Excuse me, but do you consider me that much of a loser that if a man talks to me on the street he has the sole intent of selling me drugs? Maybe he’s been into me for a while. Maybe he’s an ex.” The words escaped before she could double check her attitude-o-meter. A cold sweat sheened her palms, and she twisted her hands together. Telling him the nature of her relationship with Buck could risk her job. What if her stickler boss discovered a man threatening to hurt her and those around her, including his lovely daughter, if she didn’t pay him the money her crazy sister owed him? Gosh.

“I won’t tolerate it if he’s a dealer of any kind,” he said, his eyes flashing with an unspoken promise.

“Good. I promise you won’t have to,” she said casually, then picked up a magazine from the side rack and opened it. If only she felt as confident.

“C
hampagne, Mr. Baldi?” The flight attendant carried a smile on her lips and a bunch of filled flutes on her silver tray.

“No, thanks.” He pointed at his glass of water.

“I’ll have some,” Alice said, and although it wasn’t necessary, she leaned into him to get the flute from the flight attendant.

Shifting in the chair, he edged to the other side as if the brief contact had burned him. Reaching for the water glass, he took a big gulp and closed his eyes. Since last night, since seeing her naked in his pool, he’d been carrying a trunk in his chest. And, truth be told, a latent erection in his pants.

Which was ridiculous. During the year she’d worked for him, he made sure they kept their relationship strictly business. His strategy was to be cordial, to listen to concerns and stories about her daughter, but he tried not to engage in personal, touchy-feely topics with Alice. There was no point. Building a Berlin wall between them, for Cara’s sake, was the smart thing to do. Alice was extremely reliable and seemed to care a great deal about Cara, which was the most important thing. She’d been the best nanny he’d had and, especially now, with the move to New York City, he couldn’t risk that for anything. His workload would increase, and he needed someone he trusted to be with his little girl when he couldn’t.

Besides, his doomed marriage gave him all the relationship experience he could handle. No need to fall in the same trap twice. Kristin had mocked his humble beginning, and the fact his family had been modest, broken, and unknown. Be that as it may, he’d been thankful he had a loving mother to raise him. Growing up, he dealt with a flaky father he met every other month. While with him, he’d been subjected to facing all the women—paid and unpaid—his father warmed sheets with. His daughter, Cara, would never go through that.