Nancy Warren - A Very Fake Fiancée - The Fiancée Charade / My Fake Fiancée / A Very Exclusive Engagement

Lifting her chin, she met the cool determination of Gabriel’s gaze. “I didn’t think that what happened had meant that much to you. After all, it was only one night.”

“A night I’ve never forgotten.”

The deep timbre of his voice shivered through her. One more half step and he was so close she could feel the heat flowing off his big body, catch the scent of his skin. He cupped her chin, hesitated, then lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss, his lips soft, was little more than a touch, a tester, but suddenly her heart was pounding and she was having difficulty breathing.

She considered what he was offering, right here, right now. Another passionate interlude.

But the sting of that thought was drowned out by another much more powerful consideration. Despite wanting to move on from the powerful attraction that drew her to Gabriel, she hadn’t; she still wanted him.

Everything was in place, the starry night sky, the sea, the sense of isolation and privacy, and somewhere inside a too-comfortable couch or very large bed. It was a virtual replay of the night six years ago.

A gust of wind tugged at his hair, and the moon slid behind a cloud. As the gloom of the approaching squall deepened, he cupped her face.

The pads of his thumbs swept over her cheeks, sending rivulets of fire shimmering through her. “Say yes.”

She froze in the rawness of the moment, the flash of need that melted her bones.

Her hair whipped around her cheeks. The night was turning wild and elemental. If she wanted to keep things on a professional basis, she should go, hand his jacket back and walk up to the road before the approaching deluge hit. She had her phone; she could order a taxi or ring the hotel concierge, who would send someone to pick her up. But she knew that she wouldn’t be doing any such thing, and suddenly there was no air. “Yes.”

In answer, Gabriel dipped his head and laid his mouth on hers. Emboldened, she dropped her phone in Gabriel’s jacket pocket and braced her hands on his shoulders. The warmth from the muscle beneath her palms sent a quiver of heat through her, as flash after flash of memories from that long-ago night turned the air molten. Heart pounding, she lifted up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

Her faint awkwardness, the fear that he would know just how unpracticed she was at this, disappeared as his arms tightened around her waist. The heat from his body burned through the thin lace and silk of her dress as she shifted closer still.

The fierce desire she couldn’t afford cascaded through her along with a sudden clear memory of exactly what had seduced her six years ago. Apart from the dark and dangerous outer package, Gabriel had been unexpectedly gentle.

He had gone to some lengths to make sure that nothing happened that she didn’t want. They had slow danced, they had laughed and then they had walked along the beach and ended up on the tiny adjacent island, which was reached by a causeway.

The only slip-up had been when they had both lost control and had ended up making love without protection. Even then, Gabriel had apologized. And when they had spent the rest of the night snuggled together just talking she had felt dizzyingly, almost terrifyingly, happy.

In some indefinable way they had connected. For want of a better word, Gabriel had been nice, which was why it had hurt so much when he hadn’t ever followed up.

Out at sea lightning flashed and the damp pressure of the wind increased. Not in the least intimidated, instead drawn by the primitive fierceness of the storm, the clean, simple, uncomplicated nature of it, she fitted herself even closer to Gabriel.

Rain spattered, shockingly cold against her overheated skin. Gabriel lifted his head and muttered something short in liquid Medinian.

A split second later the heavens opened up, the deluge soaking. The world tilted as Gemma found herself lifted and cradled in Gabriel’s arms. Two long strides and they were inside. The sharp thud of the door slamming behind them punctuated the wild turn the night had taken.

Gemma’s feet found the floor and Gabriel’s jacket slipped off her shoulders. She registered the faint clunk of her phone, which was in the jacket pocket. She dragged chilled fingers through her hair, which clung to her skin like damp seaweed.

Gabriel stayed her hand. “Let me do that.”

In contrast to the fury outside, his touch, as he smoothed her hair back into some semblance of order, was gentle and deliberate. But it wasn’t what she wanted.

It had been six years since they had made love, years in which she’d been busy and fulfilled with work, study and parenting, but where, essentially, she’d remained alone.

She had tried to resurrect her dating life, but somehow she just hadn’t had the enthusiasm for any of the very nice men she had occasionally dated. As hard as she’d tried she hadn’t wanted anyone, until now. One glance from Gabriel and every nerve ending in her body had been humming.

With fingers that felt clumsy and inept, she dragged at the buttons of his shirt until it hung open over a broad chest and mouthwateringly tight abs. He shrugged free of the damp shirt, tossing it on the floor, then pulled her close and kissed her.

His hands framing her hips, he walked her backward. The quality of the light changed as they traversed the lamp-lit sitting room and entered a darker, quieter room.

An enormous bed, piled with pillows and draped in an ornate, burnished coverlet, floated on a sea of dark oak floorboards, dominating a bedroom that was an arresting mixture of modern severity and lavish excess.

She felt the loosening of her dress as the zip released. Anxiety gripped her at the thought of being naked with Gabriel after all this time, of the mechanics of making love after years of being emotionally and sexually closed down. She might have been stuck in a time warp, but he hadn’t, and her inadequacies were abruptly choking.

She sensed his frown rather than saw it. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been a while.”

“How long?”

She ducked her head against his shoulder, her face burning. “Since—the pregnancy.”

He pulled her close, fitting her against the muscled contours of his body and the awkwardness shimmered into heat. Soothed by the dimness, she eased her arms out of the shoulder straps and let her dress drop to the floor.

His fingers threaded into her damp hair, tilted her face back so he could look into her eyes. To her surprise, his mouth was quirked in a half smile. “Don’t worry. You might have forgotten, but I haven’t.”

Nine

When he murmured that there was no rush, that they could take their time, she reached for a trace of the old levity, the fun side of her that had shriveled when the custody situation with Sanchia had blown up. “Are you telling me you’re slow?” Her own experience was that he was fast, hot and selective.

“Not where you’re concerned.” He grinned as he dipped his head and nibbled on her lobe, and her brain temporarily froze.

Emboldened by the humor and the sweetness, she leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his waist and soaked in his heat, his delicious scent.

She felt her bra strap release. In a definitely slick move he dispensed with the bra, leaving her in just her panties, and cupped her breasts. Her breath hitched in her throat. “That was sneaky.”

He grinned, making her heart flip. “You should know by now that all guys are sneaky.”

Bending his head he took her breast into her mouth. Sensation hummed through her, coiled low in her belly, and any awkwardness sizzled out of existence.

Gabriel lifted his head, fierce satisfaction registering. A split second later he picked her up and placed her on the bed then peeled out of his trousers before joining her.