Catherine Mann - His Thirty-Day Fiancée

Patience. “There’s a large party downstairs with plenty of movers and shakers from social and political scenes. You’ll get to share details with your boss. My word. Fifteen minutes downstairs and then I’ll have the reassurance that you’re committed. You’ll have the reassurance that I can’t kill you without pinging police radar.”

“Okay, okay, I see your point.” Her laughter tickled his ears. “It’s just all moving so fast I want to make sure I think of everything. I need to make one call before we go public.”

“To your editor? I think not.” He tugged her closer, the soft curves of her breasts grazing his chest. He could almost taste the milky softness of her skin. “I need your commitment to this plan first. Can’t have you going rogue on me out there.”

The fight crept back into her eyes, chasing away the nervousness he’d seen earlier. Her grit fired his insides every bit as much as her pinup-girl curves.

She locked his hand in a firm hold, her eyes meeting his dead-on. “I need to call my sister. We can put her on speakerphone if you don’t trust me about what’s being said, but I have to speak to her first. It’s nonnegotiable. If the answer’s no, then I’ll accept your offer to walk away and settle for an exposé on your birthmark.”

With the top of her head at nose level, he could smell the apple-fresh scent of her shampoo, see the rapid pulse in her neck bared by her upswept do. A simple slide of his hands around her back and he would be able to cup her bottom and cradle her between his legs before he kissed her. He couldn’t remember when he’d wanted a woman this much. And although he tried to tell himself it had something to do with a stretch of abstinence since the Medina story broke, he knew full well he would have ached to have her anytime. Anywhere.

Why hadn’t photos of her in the private investigator’s report captured his attention the way she did now? He’d registered she was an attractive woman, but hadn’t felt this gut-leveling kick. She chewed her bottom lip, and he realized he was staring.

His fingers tightened around her hand wearing his ring. “What about speaking to the rest of your family?”

“Just my sister,” she said softly. Her eyes were wary but she didn’t pull away. “What about your family?”

And would he tell his brothers the truth? He would have to decide on the best strategy for approaching them later. “They’ll get the memo. You could call your sister immediately after we make our announcement downstairs.”

She shook her head quickly, a light brown lock sliding loose to caress her cheek the way he longed to. “I don’t want to risk any chance of her hearing it from someone else first.” Kate tipped her chin defiantly, as if prepping for battle. “My sister is a special-needs adult. Okay? She will be confused if this leaks before I can speak to her. It’s not like I would lie about something you can easily verify.”

Every word she shared was so obviously against her will that his conscience engaged for the first time. But that couldn’t change his course. Kate had set this in motion when she’d climbed onto the ledge, in fact back when she’d identified his face in a picture that launched an exposé on his family. Still, his inconvenient kick of conscience could be silenced by acquiescing to her request for a call.

“Fine, then.” He unclipped his cell from his waistband and passed it to her. “Feel free to phone your sister before she finds out on Facebook. But I would hurry if I were you. We all know how quickly internet news can spread.”

She scrunched her nose. “You cut me to the quick with your not-so-subtle reference to my news story of the century.”

God, she was hot. And he wanted her.

While he would have to wait to have her, before the night was over, he would claim a seal-the-deal kiss from his new fiancée.

Meanwhile, it wouldn’t hurt to keep her on her toes. “Make your call quickly. You have until I’ve changed for our appearance downstairs.”

With slow and unmistakably sexual deliberation, he untied the belt on his workout clothes.

Kate damn near swallowed her tongue. “Uh, do you want me to step into the hall?”

“You promised to use speakerphone, remember?” Duarte turned his back to her but he didn’t leave. He simply strode toward the mahogany armoire.

The jacket slid from his shoulders.

Holy hell.

He draped the black silk over one of the open cabinet doors, muscles shifting along his back. She saw sparks like a camera flash snapping behind her retinas.

Oh. Right. She needed to breathe.

God, this man was ripped with long, lean—lethal—definition. She’d felt those muscles up close when she’d fallen against him on the balcony.

How much further would he carry this little display? Her fingers had been wowed, for sure, but her photographer eyes picked up everything she’d missed in that frantic moment earlier.

She was female. With a heartbeat. And swaying on her feet. The cell phone bit into her tight grip, reminding her of the reason she’d come here in the first place. Keeping Jennifer happy and secure was top priority.

Thumbing in her sister’s number, she considered blowing off the whole speakerphone issue. But she’d probably pushed her luck far enough tonight. There was no reason not to let him hear and he would have Jennifer’s number anyway now that it was stored in his cell history…. And hey, might Jennifer have his as well after this call? Interesting. She would have to check once she could steal a moment away from him. She activated the speaker phone just as her sister picked up.

“Hello?” Jennifer’s voice came through, hesitant, confused. “Who’s this?”

“Jennifer? It’s Katie, calling from a, uh, friend’s phone.” Her eyes zipped back to Duarte and his silky pants riding low on his trim hips. “I have some important news for you.”

“Are you coming to see me?” She pictured Jennifer in her pj’s, eating popcorn with other residents at the first-rate facility outside Boston.

“Not tonight, sweetie.” She had a date with an honest-to-God prince. The absurdity of it all bubbled hysteria in her throat.

“Then when?”

That depended on a certain sexy stranger who was currently getting mouth-wateringly naked.

“I’m not sure, Jennifer, but I promise to try my best to make it as soon as possible.”

Duarte pulled out a tuxedo and hung it on the door. She caught the reflection of his chest in the mirror inside the wardrobe. The expanse of chest she’d only seen a slice of from his open jacket—

“Katie?” Jennifer’s voice cut through the airwaves. “What’s your news?”

“Oh, uh…” She gulped in air for confidence—and to still her stuttering heart as Duarte knelt to select shoes. “I’m engaged.”

“To be married?” Jennifer squealed. “When?”

Wincing, Kate opted to deliberately misunderstand the whole timing question since there wasn’t going to be a wedding. “He gave me a ring tonight.”

“And you said yes.” Her sister squealed again, her high-pitched excitement echoing around the room. “Who is he?”

At least she could answer the second question honestly. “He’s someone I met through work. His name is Duarte.”

“Duarte? That’s a funny name. I’ve never heard it before. Do you think he would mind if I call him Artie? I like art class.”

He glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow arched, his first sign that he even noticed or cared that she was still in the room while he stripped.

Kate cradled the phone. “Artie is a nice name, but I think he prefers Duarte.”

A quick smile chased across his face before he turned back to the tux. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of his whispery black workout pants. Oh, boy. Her breath went heavy in her lungs and she couldn’t peel her eyes off him to save her soul. So silly. So wrong. And so compelling in his arrogant confidence.