He gave a sharp nod of his head.
‘Wow.’ She blew a whistle. ‘That’s a lot of money...’ Fresh suspicions zinged to life. ‘What would I be expected to do for it?’
‘There are aspects to be discussed after we reach agreement but the main thing I will require is for you to act as if you’re in love with me.’
Mia’s twenty-four years on this earth had left her no stranger to shocks but this was in a different league and so unexpected that it was difficult to compute what this man, this stranger, was asking of her. She drained the rest of her water while trying to clear the clutter in her brain. If not for the seriousness of his expression she would be searching the room for hidden cameras. This had to be a wind-up. ‘Sorry if I seem dim, but run that by me again. You want to pay me to pretend to be your girlfriend for a weekend with your family?’
‘Si. But in my world we say partner or lover. Never girlfriend.’
That jolted her further. ‘Lover...?’ The minor stupor that had numbed her brain cells vanished. ‘Would I be expected to share a room with you while we’re there?’
His gaze was unflinching. ‘And a bed. My family must believe we are serious about each other.’
Disgust curdled swiftly in her stomach and she rose to her feet. ‘I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m an actress, not an escort.’
‘I know exactly who you are, Miss Caldwell.’ The way his mouth curved at this sent a frisson of ice racing up her spine. ‘It is an actress I need. I will require affection and devotion only when in the presence of others. Behind closed doors things will be strictly platonic.’
She hugged her bag tightly to her stomach and inched her way backwards. ‘I’m not sharing a bed with a stranger who’s twice my size and taking his word that things will be platonic. No way. I’m not for sale. Find someone else.’
He shrugged sardonically and steepled long, tapered fingers. ‘I don’t want someone else, Miss Caldwell. I want you. Do you know who I am?’
Having backed herself to the door, she wrapped her fingers around the handle and gave a brittle smile. ‘Nope. And I don’t care. Goodbye, Mr Delgado.’
‘Before you throw away the opportunity of a lifetime, search it. Search my name. You will find that accepting my proposition will be more than a financial advantage to you. It will give your career the turbo boost it needs too.’
A sudden vision of this man being a wealthy backer of theatre productions made Mia loosen her hold on the door handle. Who was this man?
Damián saw the curiosity and indecision cloud her beautiful features. ‘Search my name,’ he repeated. He’d not gone to all this trouble finding the perfect candidate only for her to dismiss it out of hand. Time was running out. In less than three weeks, the family business he’d spent his adult life working for and which should already be under his control would be taken from him and his reputation destroyed. The business itself would likely be destroyed too. If he had any chance of stopping this happening, he needed Mia’s agreement and he needed it today. He’d been certain the mention of two hundred thousand pounds would be enough to entice her into further discussion.
Mia Caldwell, formerly known as Mia Clarke, had struggled for work since graduating from drama school three years ago. Her main source of income was with a provincial theatre company touring the UK’s smaller towns, her dry spells supplemented by working in a coffee shop. To say she was hungry for her big break would be an understatement.
Slowly, she reached into the cheapest and shabbiest handbag he’d ever seen. She pulled out a phone then settled bright blue eyes on him. ‘How do you spell your name?’
He recited it then settled back to watch her scroll through the overload of information his name would bring. Her back pressed against the door, she read quickly, eyes flickering from the screen to him, disbelief and amazement blazing from them.
For the role he required, Damián had done his homework. He’d set his lawyer the task of compiling a shortlist of beautiful, hungry London-based actresses—he didn’t want to have to worry about language problems—looking for their big break, with one extra requirement added. He’d been presented with the portfolio of four actresses who met the criteria. With her honey-blonde hair and sparkling, intelligent bright blue eyes, Mia Caldwell had captured his attention immediately. There was something about the look of her that would fit in the world he inhabited. To satisfy himself of her acting abilities and to have a believable first encounter, he’d attended a performance of My Fair Lady at the tiniest theatre he’d ever been in, fully expecting an evening of boredom. Instead, he’d found himself captivated. Mia had lit up the stage and utterly convinced as a cockney flower girl. She’d been funny, vulnerable, charming and could sing like an angel. Damián had known before the interval that he’d found his own real-life Eliza Doolittle.
He hadn’t expected to find her more attractive and captivating in real life. The photographs in her portfolio didn’t do her justice. A classical oval face framed beautiful almond-shaped eyes, a straight nose and a wide, generous mouth. Add to that a lithe figure, currently hidden beneath a loose knee-length shirt dress, and she would look at home on a catwalk. If she had a couple of extra inches of height that was. On stage, she’d appeared magnified. Up close, she was far more waif-like.
The intelligence he’d detected in her photographs shone through in person too. There were people in Damián’s world blessed with wealth and looks at the expense of brain cells. Mia was blessed with looks and brain cells without the wealth. Exactly as he required. The job he required of her was far more than being an adornment on his arm.
‘I have your attention?’ he asked after she’d spent a couple of minutes scrolling through the information on him.
When her bright blue eyes met his again there was a dazed sheen in them. She blinked the sheen away and nodded.
Of course he had her attention now that she was aware of his wealth and power. No doubt that clever, if suspicious, brain was already imagining the boost being photographed on his arm would give her career.
‘Good. Now sit down and let us finish this discussion.’
Phone clutched in her hand, she obeyed.
Assured he had her full attention, he rested his elbows on his thighs. ‘Listen carefully. The weekend after next, Celeste—my mother—is hosting her annual summer party. Hundreds of the world’s richest and most important people attend but immediate family visit for the whole weekend. You and I will arrive there on the Friday and then leave and go our separate ways on the Sunday. We will need to go on a few public dates, and I will require you to be available for the whole of next week. That will give us the time we need to be seen together and get to know each other well enough to make our story believable and for me to fill you in on everything I require.’