Kostas's Convenient Bride. Кейт Хьюит

some damn New York actor just looking to add another beautiful notch to his bedpost.

      Andreas shifted in his seat, trying to control his urge to demand Kayla explain her remark about six years ago. It wasn’t just a restaurant full of strangers he didn’t want witnessing their very private conversation.

      Andreas had no intention of giving their nosy cabbie any more fodder for his curiosity.

      When they arrived at the hotel, Andreas waited on the sidewalk for Kayla to scoot out of the back seat. He would usually go ahead of her, trusting her to follow, but in her current state, he wasn’t taking anything for granted.

      She stopped in front of him, tugging the hem of her sexy little dress down. It hugged every curve, reminding him of how beautiful she was, that no other woman had ever measured up to the perfection of Kayla Jones since that first day he’d seen her across the quad at university.

      He shoved those thoughts away. “Are you ready to go inside?”

      “Do I have a choice?” she asked, 100 percent attitude.

      Rather than grab her, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You act like I’m some kind of tyrant.”

      “Do I need to remind you of the events of the last hour?” she asked in that sarcastic tone that made him want to do things he’d made himself forget.

      He forced an even tone. “None of which would have happened if you had been waiting in the suite when I arrived.”

      “That was not going to happen.”

      “So, you wanted to go shopping.” It had not surprised him to find out she was in the garment district. Kayla liked to shop when she was stressed. She’d worked out a few knotty computer codes with “shopping therapy,” as she called it. It was discovering she was with Jacob Tarkent that had Andreas’s blood pressure spiking. “Did you have to pick up a date?”

      Kayla stepped past him with a saucy sway of her sexy hips. “He picked me up.”

      “I figured.” Andreas followed, forcing himself to ignore the way her dress and attitude were affecting his libido.

      He had six years’ experience ignoring these sexual urges. It shouldn’t be so damn hard.

      “So? I’m single. It’s allowed.”

      “You are in a strange city. He could have been anyone.”

      “But he’s not.”

      “No.” As soon as he’d known whom she was with, he’d had a background check run on Jacob Tarkent, by Hawk’s company coincidentally.

      They were very thorough and fast.

      “So, you knew I was safe.”

      He put his hand on her arm, stopping them outside the doors to the hotel. “You didn’t.” And that was the damned point, even if she wanted to ignore it.

      “I did.” Oh, she sounded so sure.

      “That’s right, you think you can read people.”

      “I can. It’s a skill you learn in foster care.” Her feisty expression dared him to contradict her.

      “It’s not one hundred percent.”

      “Nothing is.” She glared up at him, everything in her demeanor defying him, and that should not have been a turn-on. “Are we going to stand out here discussing this?”

      “At least you are finally admitting we need to discuss things between us.”

      She rolled her eyes, her lovely latte skin flushed with anger. “I’m really annoyed with you, Andreas.”

      “I think you are understating the case.” Furious seemed more like it.

      Her gray eyes narrowed further. “Maybe.”

      “Definitely.” That was okay. He was pretty pissed off himself. Not that he wanted to examine why. He just wanted to fix it. All of it.

      They were friends. She was all he had left of family.

      Even if she didn’t realize it.

      “Let’s go inside.”

      “Whatever you say, Commander.”

      “You are skating on thin ice.”

      “Oh, I’m shaking in my boots.” Kayla did sarcasm better than anyone he’d ever met.

      “You only ever say that when you aren’t wearing any.”

      “The irony is all the stronger in that case.”

      He shook his head and took her arm again, needing to know she was with him. She didn’t pull away from his hold, and the gratitude he felt was all out of proportion.

      They rode in tense silence to the penthouse-suites floor. The old-fashioned apricot roses he’d had delivered earlier filled the sitting room with their heady fragrance. He’d noticed that Kayla hadn’t bothered to read the card Andreas had included with the flowers.

      He frowned. She’d also ignored the box of her favorite chocolates on the table.

      A bottle of sweet champagne chilling in a standing ice bucket and a platter of fruit had been added to the offerings.

      Kayla’s gaze took all this in and then snapped back to him. “What is all of this?”

      “I wanted you to be comfortable.”

      “With roses, champagne and chocolates?” she asked with clear disbelief.

      “There’s fruit too.”

      “Isn’t that a little romantic for your employee?”

      “You are my friend, my business partner, not simply an employee, and it’s not about romance. It’s about offering your favorites.”

      “Typical.”

      If by typical she meant he somehow screwed up and then made things better with an offering of food, then yes. It was typical. And usually, she allowed the gesture as the olive branch it was.

      She gave a disdainful glance to the champagne.

      “I’d rather have tea.” Her tone said she wanted all her wits about her.

      He’d thought he could use the advantage of alcohol, but then again, maybe he needed his wits about him too. He definitely didn’t need alcohol lowering his sexual inhibitions around her.

      “Do you want to call for it, or shall I?” he asked.

      “I’m not sure I could eat right now.”

      She never ate when she was stressed.

      “I’ll munch on the fruit if I get hungry.” His appetite, on the other hand, never got affected by emotions.

      Emotions had no place in life at all.

      She would be better off if she could push hers aside too, but then she wouldn’t be Kayla.

      She nodded and then crossed plush white carpet to order her tea. Once she’d done that, she headed to the bedroom her luggage had proclaimed to be hers. “I’m changing into something more comfortable for this talk.”

      “You look great.”

      “Yeah, well, I was dressed for a date. This is not a date. I’m changing.”

      He didn’t know why the words offended or he felt the need to argue that point. Andreas clamped his jaw and refused to allow the words of denial to pass his lips.

      If the woman wanted to change, let her.

      Six years ago, it had taken him some time to overcome urges like this too. That was all it was, the reminder of the sexual relationship they used to have.

      Nothing else.

      They’d