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

Her gaze brightened at the possibilities, although he decided he couldn’t be sure about what had cheered her up the most: the possibility of her pick of a number of jobs, or the fact that he would soon be leaving.

Gabriel checked his watch and slid his phone out of his pants pocket.

He could sense the conflict that pulled at Gemma, the mystifying factor that constantly saw her applying the brakes to what she so obviously felt for him. But the fact that she had emotions she needed to control was key.

Something shifted inside him, settled.

One week, maybe two.

It wasn’t long enough, but it was a start. Despite all the ploys, Gemma did still want him. And when she came back to his bed, like the night on Medinos, he was pretty sure there wouldn’t be a lot of conversation involved and that the passion would be the same: searingly hot and mutual.

He punched a speed dial on his phone. The clerk in charge of the bank vault picked up the call. A brief conversation later, and Gabriel set the phone down and extracted his car keys from a desk drawer. “If you’ll come with me now, I’ve arranged to get a ring out of the bank vault, then we’ll drop by my sister’s shop.”

Gemma, in the process of slinging the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, froze. “A ring?”

Gabriel paused at the door, riveted by the combination of uncertainty and pleasure on her face. “I read your P.S. on the note you left in Medinos. Your condition was that we would both have to play our roles to the letter, and in my book that means a ring. Besides, Mario will expect to see one. So will the lawyers.”

Before Gemma could argue, he opened the door, which brought Maris into view and earshot.

Pale but composed, Gemma walked past him on a waft of the warm perfume that still had the power to stop him in his tracks. Despite the horrible color, the tight little beige suit was distractingly sexy, and the short skirt made her long legs seem even longer.

His heart slammed against the wall of his chest as he strolled beside Gemma to the elevator. With every moment that passed, he was more and more certain that she cared for him in a deep, meaningful way. It explained the dichotomy of her behavior, the way she’d avoided him at first, but then had melted in his arms.

Relief mingled with a fiery elation coursed through his veins. She hadn’t been able to resist him; they hadn’t been able to resist each other. He would bring her around. It would take time, but time was a commodity he now possessed.

As he stepped into the elevator with Gemma at his side, a curious feeling swept over him.

For the first time in his life he realized he was approaching a point where he could commit.

Somehow, he had finally ended up in relationship territory.

Eleven

Gemma watched the elevator doors seal shut, closing her in with Gabriel. After spending the night with him, she had realized that she had to tell him about Sanchia. And she intended to do so...when she found the right time.

The fake engagement, as outrageous as it was, would at least give her a few days to find a way to break it to him.

She didn’t know how Gabriel would react, or how the situation would work out. All she knew was that Gabriel deserved to know his daughter, and Sanchia needed to know her father. Given that marriage for her was looking doubtful, Gabriel could be the only father Sanchia would ever have. It would be difficult sharing Sanchia, but she knew that ultimately it would be the best thing for her daughter.

The doors swished open. Gabriel’s hand cupped her elbow, sending a hot tingle clear up her arm and spinning her back to the night in his apartment.

As they strolled out of the elevator into an underground parking area, she forced herself to relax. For the next week she would have to get used to this kind of casual touching.

Gabriel stopped beside another low-slung muscular car and held the passenger-side door for her. “Did you get custody of your daughter back?”

“Not yet. Getting this job and the apartment sped things up. I should have her back within the week.”

Gabriel closed her door and, thankful that he hadn’t pushed for more information, Gemma fastened her seat belt.

As he slid into the driver’s seat and negotiated the tight lanes of the parking building, she made an effort to relax.

The powerful hum of the car drew her attention as Gabriel accelerated into traffic. Happy to concentrate on anything but personal issues, Gemma examined the interior of what was, she realized, a gorgeous Ferrari. “Somehow I don’t see you as a Ferrari kind of guy.”

“Tell me, what do you think I should drive?” His gaze briefly connected with hers. His teeth flashed white against his bronzed, clean-shaven jaw, and there they were, back on that dangerous, easy wavelength.

She tried not to respond to the killer smile, the easy charm, and failed. She stared determinedly ahead, concentrating on traffic. “I guess I got used to seeing you in a Jeep Cherokee, like the one you used to drive in Dolphin Bay.”

Sunlight flowed into shadow as he pulled into another underground garage. He pulled into a named parking space and turned the powerful engine off. “Maybe that’s why I like them.”

Feeling suddenly suffocated in the confined space with Gabriel just inches away, his clean male scent keeping her on edge, Gemma busied herself unfastening her seat belt. “Tired of being typecast?”

He shrugged. “When Dad died, overnight I became head of the family, with five siblings, two of them under twenty.” He shrugged. “Parenthood at age twenty-five wasn’t what I’d planned for my life. Damned if I was going to drive a Volvo or a BMW.”

Gemma’s fingers curled in on the soft buttery leather of her handbag. Parenthood hadn’t been so great at twenty, either. “It’s a shock if you’re not ready for it.”

“Were you?”

The soft question drew her gaze. “By the time I had Sanchia, I was. Now that I’m a mother, I couldn’t imagine life without her.”

A little annoyed by his probing and the blunt way he was steering the conversation, Gemma asked the one burning question that had kept her awake at night. “Is that why you didn’t want any more than the one night we shared six years ago? You wanted to preserve what freedom you had?”

“The business and the family were under a lot of pressure. A relationship wasn’t viable.”

Even though she hated the answer, it was a reason she understood. Gabriel had had his choices taken away. He had shouldered the burden for his family, even though it had meant putting his own dreams and desires on hold.

Given the sacrifices he’d already had to make, she could understand his distaste for being maneuvered into a marriage not of his choosing.

More than ever, she was happy that she hadn’t told him she was pregnant, that she’d chosen to take responsibility for the outcome of that night. For Gabriel, having an instant wife and family forced on him would, literally, have been the last straw.

Gabriel locked the Ferrari then led the way into the bank through a door with a security PIN.

The chill of air-conditioning was a relief after the humid heat, cooling her skin as they strolled through hushed, carpeted corridors, past offices occupied by beautifully suited executives.

Gabriel acknowledged staff as they walked past. When she asked how many people worked for the company, the number of personnel he employed took her breath. The bank was the hub of a financial community, and Gabriel was tasked with overseeing it all.

For the first time she understood the crushing burden taking over all this had been. While she had been struggling with a life-changing pregnancy, Gabriel had been fighting to control all of this.