Page 55 of Arranged To Be Mine

“Please don’t cause an international incident.”

“No promises.” He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s the whole point of a masquerade, right? Nobody knows who you are. You can be anyone. Do anything.”

Giovanni’s assistant approached Jeremy with a pincushion. My brother reluctantly stopped admiring himself long enough to let the man work.

“What about you?” Jeremy asked, glancing at me in the mirror. “Ready for your big night with the ice queen?”

“Don’t call her that.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Touchy. I was just kidding.”

“I know. But she hates that nickname, and honestly, she doesn’t deserve it. She’s not icy.”

Jeremy watched me in the mirror. I knew that look. It usually preceded questions I didn’t want to answer.

“You like her,” he said. Not a question.

“She’s nicer than she first seemed.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I sighed, keeping my arms raised while Giovanni continued his work. “It doesn’t matter if I like her. This is a job. I don’t sleep with clients.”

“Technically, she’s not your client. Her father is.”

“Drop it, Jeremy.”

“I’m just saying⁠—”

“And I’m just saying drop it.” I met his eyes in the mirror, making sure he understood I was serious. “I don’t want to think about Darcy that way. It would just complicate things.”

“Things seem pretty complicated already.”

He was right. Darcy had gotten under my skin in ways I hadn’t expected. I was still thinking about that damn kiss outside the restaurant. She was prickly and guarded and way too serious about everything, but underneath all that armor was someone genuinely interesting.

But that was exactly why I needed to keep my distance. This was business. A temporary arrangement designed to fix her public image. Getting emotionally involved would be stupid.

“It’s a shame,” Jeremy said when I didn’t respond. “She seems cool. Different from the usual Hollywood types you date.”

“I don’t date Hollywood types.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em Beau.”

I barked out a humorless laugh. “Said the pot to the kettle.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong, though. My romantic history was a series of short-term entanglements that never went anywhere. Partly because I was too focused on my career. Partly because I’d never met anyone who made me want to try for something more.

Until maybe now.

I pushed that thought away before it could take root.

Giovanni stepped back, examining his work with a critical eye. “Very good, very good. The fit is perfect. You will look magnificent.”

“Thank you, Giovanni.”

The elderly tailor gestured to his assistant, who disappeared into the back room. A moment later, he returned carrying two large boxes.

“And now,” Giovanni said with a flourish. “The masks.”