Sleeping With Her Rival. Sheri WhiteFeather

to do battle, she went inside, and then she stood and gazed around the massive reception area.

      Antiques from every corner of the world made an incredible display, and so did modern works of art. She knew instantly that Flint had worked closely with the decorator.

      “Are you Gina Barone?”

      She turned to see a slim, chic woman rise from a birch desk—a unique piece of furniture that fit her vogue style. Alabaster skin showcased cropped black hair and trendy black glasses, making her look fashionably efficient.

      “Yes, I am.”

      The woman came forward and extended her hand. “I’m Kerry Landau, Flint’s assistant.”

      Gina smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”

      Kerry lowered her glasses and peered at Gina with exotically lined eyes. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were admiring the decor.” She pointed to a table-high statue—a depiction of a long, lean, naked lady. “That’s my husband’s work. He’s still a struggling artist. But he’s exceptional.”

      “Yes, he is.” Gina studied the piece. The marble lady stood there, one hand draped between her thighs, her other arm barely shielding her aroused nipples. She seemed sensuously vulnerable, innocent yet erotic.

      Gina turned to speak to Kerry and caught sight of Flint. He’d appeared out of nowhere, and he leaned against the doorjamb that led to his office, his head tilted at a curious angle.

      “Ms. Barone is here,” Kerry announced.

      “So I see.”

      Flint’s gaze roamed over Gina’s carefully clothed body, and suddenly she felt as naked as the statue. And just as vulnerable.

      “Are you ready?” he asked.

      To enter the wolf’s private den? No, she wasn’t the least bit ready. “Of course.”

      “Good.” He escorted her down a brightly lit hallway and into his office.

      Offering her a seat, he gestured to a comfortable yet elegant sitting area. He’d spared no expense in decorating his domain, and she suspected his family was as wealthy as hers. But that was where the similarity ended.

      Flint was an only child—the prince, the heir to the Kingman throne. Gina, on the other hand, struggled with being a middle child, the one her parents overlooked, the one who had to work twice as hard to get noticed.

      Gina sighed, then glanced up and caught Flint watching her.

      Uncomfortable, she folded her hands on her lap.

      He moved to stand in front of his desk—a rich, intricately carved block of mahogany.

      “You have exceptional taste,” she said, struggling to fill the silence.

      A small smile curved his lips. “In women?”

      She shifted on the sofa. “In furniture.”

      “Thank you.” The teasing smile remained. “Would you like a drink? Coffee, tea, a soft drink?” He walked to the bar. “A glass of milk?”

      “A cup of hot tea would be nice,” she responded, wishing he would stop flirting.

      “Coming right up.”

      Within minutes he placed a silver tea set on the table beside her. It looked much too refined to be served by a tall, broad-shouldered man.

      He sat across from her, looking wildly attractive, his rebellious hair falling onto his forehead.

      She prepared her tea, adding cream and sugar. “So, what’s the purpose of this meeting? Did you mastermind a scandal?”

      “Yes.”

      She tasted the hot brew, sipping delicately. “And?”

      “And I think we should have an affair.”

      Gina nearly spilled her tea, and Flint laughed.

      “Not a real affair,” he clarified.

      “Let me get this straight.” She set her cup on the table, knowing she wasn’t steady enough to balance it. Apparently he’d meant to knock her for a loop, to heave his proposal at her, much in the way she’d tossed that apple at him. “You’re suggesting we fake an affair?”

      “That’s right. A whirlwind romance and a stormy breakup.”

      She released a choppy breath. “You can’t be serious.”

      “Of course, I am. Your family is already being targeted in the tabloids, so you’ll draw plenty of attention. And so will I, considering I’ve been in the spotlight before.”

      Yes, he’d been in the spotlight before, playing around with a movie star.

      “I’m telling you. This will work. Just picture the headlines. ‘PR prince melts Italian ice-cream princess.’ It’ll make great copy.”

      She shook her head, still trying to fathom the idea. “We don’t even like each other.”

      “So what? It’s just a phony affair. Three weeks of prominent dating, then a public breakup, and I’ll be out of your hair.” He removed his jacket and loosened his tie, giving himself a rakish look. “By the time we’re done with the media, they won’t care about pepper-spiced gelato or family curses. All they’ll care about is the hip-grinding, mind-blowing displays of affection we’ll be tossing their way.” He gazed directly into her eyes. “Come on, what do you have to lose?”

      My sanity, she thought.

      “We’ve got great chemistry, Gina.” He moved onto the sofa and reached for her hand. And when he linked his fingers with hers, a jolt of electricity shot up her arm.

      “You can’t deny our chemistry. I know you can feel it.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed her knuckles with his lips. And then he teased her with a quick, playful bite.

      Gina’s blood rushed from her head to her toes. Heat pooled between her legs. Her nipples went hard.

      But when he sent her that sly, sexy smile, she jerked her hand back.

      Damn him, she thought, as her pulse jumped and jittered. Damn him to hell.

      He was right, of course. His ploy would work. The tabloids would feed on the sexual frenzy he intended to create. The press would sensationalize her affair with him instead of trashing Baronessa.

      But could she actually paw him in public? Or let him run those spine-tingling hands all over her body?

      “So, what do you say?” Flint asked. “Are we on?”

      Yes. No. Maybe. Her mind spun. Her heart raced. “I don’t know. I—”

      “Hey, if you’re worried about your image, relax. I’ve got that covered.”

      She blinked. “What are you talking about?”

      He crossed to the bar. “That stiff nature of yours. You know as well as I do that it won’t fly, Gina. It’ll make you seem unlikable.”

      She eyed him with annoyance. “Oh, really?”

      “Yeah.” He popped the top on a soda and took a swig. “But I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before. I’m just the guy who can give you an image that will dazzle the media, charm the public and make men fall at your feet.”

      Offended, she lifted her chin. “I don’t need you to run my social life.”

      He set his drink on the table. “The hell you don’t. You’ve got incredible sex appeal, but you don’t know how to use it.”

      “And a phony affair with you is going to turn me into a femme fatale?”

      He slanted her his signature grin. “You bet is it.”

      “Go to