Chapter 19

The aroma of spicy lamb curry wafted down the hallway. Liya made her way to the guestroom. The billionaire did know how to cook. What had distracted him earlier? Blake’s white apron, over faded blue denims and a white T-shirt, was definitely the sexiest chef getup Liya had ever seen on a man. Now she knew Blake’s skills weren’t limited to corporate boardrooms. All thoughts of his deceit were lost when she recalled the way his eyes had lingered on her legs. Blake was attracted to her — she couldn’t deny it. Exactly how did that change anything? Their engagement was a farce. But Blake’s actions suggested anything other than a farce. Apart from looking as sexy as hell in the kitchen, Blake’s gesture was actually quite charming.

Planning fake engagement wasn’t charming at all, she reminded herself. She needed to be strong and ignore the little things he did to keep her interested so she wouldn’t suspect the truth.

She relaxed on her bed and tried to read to keep her mind off him. The aroma of his cooking soon reached the guestroom. She couldn’t concentrate on the book at all. She decided to go outside. She’d try reading at the poolside. She grabbed her book and headed outside.

Perfect. She couldn’t smell Blake’s cooking at all. But her mind had plans of its own. While reading the steamier parts of the romance novel, she recalled the night of passion she’d shared with Blake.

Liya shook her head. She was going crazy trying not to think about Blake. She should hate him for tricking into accepting his ring. She shouldn’t even go to dinner or eat his cooking. She’d always believed real families bonded over home-cooked dinners, not fake families or fake fiancées.

She tried not to think about Blake. It was pretty difficult since she was currently in his home. Liya sighed. As It grew darker, she decided to go back inside the mansion. By now the smell of Blake’s cooking was impossible to ignore. She went to the guestroom to freshen up.

One of Blake’s employees had left the afternoon newspaper on Liya’s bed side table. She’d noticed that they placed copies of the most recent newspaper in all of the occupied bedrooms.

Billionaire’s Style-Illiterate Fiancée.

Billionaire Blake Stone needs to employ a stylist to rescue his fashion-unconscious fiancée from committing another foreseeable fashion disaster.

We also learned Liya was wearing a summer frock, she bought four seasons ago at a sale, on the night of her engagement. A close friend revealed Liya rarely pays full price for in-season must-haves.

Tears stung Liya’s eyes. The accompanying picture showed her in her well-worn denim cutoffs and a vest. Liya rarely paid any attention to tabloid-style news, but today’s headline stabbed her emotionally in more ways than one — she wore clothes she was comfortable in. She wore clothes she could afford to buy on her small intern’s salary. Besides shopping for clothes was Liya’s least favorite passion. This afternoon’s shopping trip had been solely to update Sophia’s wardrobe.

Ordinarily, something like this wouldn’t have bothered Liya. She’d been raised on hand-me-downs and charity-shop clothes. Nobody had published her fashion choices on the front page of a newspaper before. Guaranteed her family would read it. She squeezed her eyes shut. No matter how hard she tried to run, her past would always remind her who she really was.

She felt worse knowing Blake may have already read the front page piece. Blake’s former girlfriends had all been perfectly groomed fashionistas who rarely put a pedicured foot wrong. This engagement wasn’t real so why did you care whether Blake read the article. She’d never been one to stress over what she wore or how she looked. Why start now? It had been a while since she’d updated her wardrobe though.

A gentle tap on the door broke into her thoughts. “Come in.”

“Liya?” Blake opened the door slowly.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. “Yes?”

“Dinner’s ready.” His eyes strayed to the newspaper. “Please don’t pay any attention to that crap. These reporters have nothing better to write about.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re perfect as you are.” He took the newspaper out of her hands and tossed it into the bin.

“It isn’t crap,” she replied softly. “Maybe it’s time I had a makeover.”

“A makeover? Liya, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with your appearance.”

“Something like that” —she gestured at the newspaper lying in the bin— “makes me believe there’s something wrong. Besides now that we’re engaged, I think it’s time I started dressing like your fiancée and Sophia’s mother. I need to give my college look a break.” She crossed her fingers behind her back hoping Blake wouldn’t talk her out of wanting a makeover. Maybe it was what she needed right now to help her feel better about herself.

“I suppose you’re right,” he replied eventually. “How about I arrange for you to meet an image consultant first thing tomorrow morning?”

“Thank you,” she said, “I’d love that.”