Free A Reputation to Uphold by Victoria Parker Page A

settles and we separate, you may sleep with whomever you wish. In the meantime, do not betray me. You will not like the consequences, tesoro . This may be business but I will not be made a fool of. Even in appearance. No boyfriends. No. Sex.’
    * * *
    Hot, heavy and sticky, the air clogged her throat, seared her skin and evaporated the moisture from her mouth as they faced off in the rear of the car.
    For the briefest second she thought she saw pain in his eyes but this was Dante they were talking about—all cold, ruthless determination and closed off to the power of ten. Otherwise she would think the idea of her sleeping with another man bothered him. And maybe it did. Not on an emotional level but on the playing field of pride. Eva knew all about pride.
    ‘This from the man who specialises in one-night stands and two-month marriages,’ she said, wincing at the bitterness in her voice. Still, ‘I would never embarrass you in such a way. I thought the whole point of this charade was to protect our reputations, not crucify them. Honestly, Dante, I’ve had enough. I am sick and tired of your caustic references. I do not sleep around. Never have, never will.’ And wasn’t that the understatement of the century! If he only knew... Don’t go there, Eva. Just don’t go there.
    Time stretched paper-thin as he searched her face for the sincerity she prayed was there. Eventually he drew back, nodded.
    The jerky reluctance in that movement didn’t fill her with confidence but it was a start. ‘And do I have your word that I will gain the same consideration from you?’
    ‘ Sì , of course,’ he said, voice coated with umbrage.
    ‘Oh, you’re offended by that demand? Well, now you know how I feel. Neither of us truly knows the other, so can we stop this? Call some kind of truce. Please?’
    Because surely the only way to get through this wretched charade with her soul intact was to try to get along with him. Maybe they could be friends. Oh, yeah, when he thinks you’re a bed-hopping harlot who carouses on the dance floors at night? Like that was going to happen.
    Well, she decided, she’d just make it happen. While he claimed not to trust her, he was taking a leap of faith. So this was her chance to prove to him that she wasn’t the Diva, party-girl-extraordinaire. That she’d pulled her life around. And maybe, just once, he would look at her, converse with her with something other than derision. Was that really too much to ask?
    Maybe it was, if the assessing scowl on his face was anything to go by.
    ‘Dante, listen, I—’ The car rocked to a stop and her attention veered to the stunning black and white façade of the most exclusive jewellery store in London.
    Thump, thump went her heart as she soaked in the sight...the dim interior. And relief zigzagged through her body. ‘It’s in complete darkness. Oh, what a shame,’ she said, sounding suitably disappointed. ‘It’s closed.’
    ‘Good,’ Dante said, face now schooled into impassivity.
    Eva frowned, then jolted as the car moved forward, negotiated a tight corner and pulled down an alleyway, coming to a dead stop outside a large, ominous black door. Oh, hell . ‘Is this the tradesmens’ entrance?’
    ‘I believe so,’ he drawled with a self-satisfied smirk she wanted to swipe off his face. He was enjoying this, she realised. The sadistic snake.
    A phalanx of bodyguards walked from the car behind—a car she’d had no idea was following them—and took up position standing sentinel either side of a vault-like doorway, which began to open with eerily slow precision. Eva felt as if she was watching some horror movie from behind a cushion and this was the moment where the heroine lost every brain cell she was born with and walked headlong into the temple of doom.
    ‘Let’s go,’ said Dante, unfolding his long muscular frame from the car. Standing tall, he swept one broad hand down the front of his jacket as he waited for her to alight.
    Except her