Five Dates with the Billionaire - Alyssa J. Montgomery Page 0,46
in hair colour, she must still resemble her mother far more than she’d realised.
When she’d been growing up, people had often said their bone structure was similar—except for the bump on Mia’s nose from a slight skirmish she’d had on the basketball court. But the bump had been repaired to make her look less recognisable as Callie. Nobody had considered that in removing the bump, she’d end up looking more like her mother.
Leave everything from your old life behind, the FBI agent had warned her.
Mia hadn’t been able to. She’d buried her own identity, but had needed something to link her to her mother, so she’d smuggled her mother’s treasured jewellery box and this pendant into her belongings.
‘Mia!’
Belatedly, she registered that Connor was leaning forward in his seat and trying to gain her attention.
Questions danced in his eyes. Questions she couldn’t answer.
Oh God, but she wished she could. More than once he’d stripped her of her clothing and she’d laid her body bare for him, but she could never bare her soul. No matter how long they were together, she’d always be holding something back from him—her true self. Her awful past.
‘Would you like to tell me what the bloody hell that was all about?’ Every word was quiet but held determined intensity.
Her stomach knotted up and she wanted to scream out with the fear of discovery and the agony of her deceit. ‘Pardon?’
‘Don’t treat me like a fool,’ he warned. ‘You have met that man before, haven’t you?’
Her throat worked up and down as she swallowed hard. Digging deep, she tried to come up with an Academy Award winning performance.
I have to lie for Connor’s protection as much as my own.
‘As far as I’m aware,’ she said, carefully, ‘we’ve never been introduced.’ It was a half-truth. Lou had never been introduced to her and certainly never since she’d been Mia Simms. She hadn’t been important enough to warrant an introduction, she’d simply been the gangly kid in the background not worth noticing.
No. Don’t even think about those times.
She picked up her fork and started eating her dessert in a pretence of calm normality. ‘As you said, everyone is supposed to have a double somewhere.’ She licked her fork. ‘Mm. This tiramisu is superb.’ She may as well have been eating cardboard.
Connor reached across the table and touched his finger to the corner of her mouth where she must’ve left traces of cream. Slowly, he placed his finger to his mouth. ‘You’re right. I hope you weren’t saving the coffee cream for later.’ Mia didn’t have time to enjoy the intimacy of the moment as he continued, ‘I got the distinct impression you didn’t want Correlli to recognise you.’
She supposed Connor’s tenacity and his refusal to take anything at face value was what had made him so successful in the business world, but he had to let this go.
‘How on earth could he recognise me? He’s American and I’m nobody famous.’
He let out an audible, impatient breath. ‘I don’t know how he knows you but he does, doesn’t he?’
‘You told me a few nights ago it was important not to oversell your product. You were way overselling. You think I didn’t notice your accent? Bloody hell! It sounded as though you were trying to hobnob it at a Buckingham Palace garden party.’
When she remained silent he mimicked, ‘Thank you ever so much. I’m so awfully glad.’
Unable to think of a sassy reply, or even a denial, she spooned some more of the dessert into her mouth making certain this time that none of it ended up on her lip. ‘Please don’t make fun of me. I get a bit nervous when I meet strangers. I guess my accent becomes more pronounced because I’m tense.’
‘Oh, come on.’ He sat back and made a dismissive gesture with one hand. ‘Even if I did believe that, it wasn’t necessary to go into such detail about your necklace. It was as though you were trying to throw him off. And then there was the mistake you made on his surname. Please. He said Correlli with a distinctive American roll on the ‘r’. There’s no way it sounded like Comelli.’ He leaned forward again and pinned her with his gaze. ‘Who is he, Mia, and why don’t you want him to recognise you?’
Connor was way too smart.
‘Hey, I don’t get out much, remember?’ She matched his low volume. ‘I’m the twenty-six-year-old who spends her Saturday