Читать книгу A Deal Made In Texas - Michelle Major - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Christine picked up the glass of wine the bartender placed in front of her and drained half of it in one long gulp.

She’d just had her heart’s desire handed to her on a silver platter and she’d made a mess of the whole thing. Gavin Fortunado might not be a hero, but he’d been her secret crush since the moment she’d set eyes on him almost ten years ago.

For ten years she’d harbored fantasies about her boss’s adventurous, drop-dead-gorgeous youngest son. Then tonight, out of nowhere, he’d taken her into his arms, like a scene from every Hallmark movie she’d ever watched. And she loved a good romance.

Unfortunately, Christine hadn’t even been able to put together a decent sentence. He’d actually flirted with her. Of course, Gavin flirted with everyone. Not that she knew him well, other than adoring him from afar, but he’d come into the Fortunado Real Estate Agency office in Houston often enough over the years.

She’d watched his easy banter with his sisters as well as the women who worked in the office. He was always charming but respectful and had a knack for remembering names and details. Half the women she knew in Houston had a crush on him, and she imagined it was much the same in Denver.

At first, when his gaze had met hers as he strode toward the bar, she’d thought he might call her out for staring. She’d been trying to ignore Bobby, who seemed to think he was God’s gift to women. He was harmless but annoying, and Christine wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t give up on her. Maybe because she had very little social life to speak of so he assumed she should be grateful for his attention.

Irritated was more like it.

He’d been blathering on about some property he couldn’t close, and Christine had been watching Gavin talk to Schuyler. Or rather argue. She was used to seeing Gavin smiling and jovial and hadn’t understood the tension that made his broad shoulders appear stiff. Unlike her own, the Fortunado family was tight-knit so it bothered her to see the brother and sister at odds.

She’d been shocked when Gavin had approached the bar and taken her hand. It might have been a simple dance to him. For Christine, having Gavin pull her close, her body pressed against his, was the culmination of all her secret desires come to life. Of all the single women at the reception, he’d picked her. Did that mean something?

Probably not, but a girl could dream. Sadly, all she’d be left with was her dreams since she’d been so discombobulated that she hadn’t been able to truly enjoy the moment. Or relax. Or hold up her end of the conversation.

What was the point, anyway? Gavin lived life in the fast lane. She could barely get out of first gear. Normally, her boring routine didn’t bother her. She was good at her job, had a cute apartment and a sweet rescue dog that adored her. She owned her own car and one designer purse she’d splurged on last year. The barista at her neighborhood coffee shop sometimes remembered her order, which never failed to make her feel special. She had a good life.

Only occasionally did she think about what it would be like to have more. To be fun and sporty like her sister, Aimee, or confident in the way of the Fortunado sisters. To be the kind of woman who could attract a man like Gavin.

She took another drink of wine and turned back toward the reception. The dance floor was filled with wedding guests, all of them laughing and swaying whether they had rhythm or not. Christine should join the crowd. Despite her two left feet, she loved to dance. But the thought of drawing attention to herself made her cheeks flame. Drat her pale Irish complexion. She had no ability to hide her feelings when her blush gave them away every time.

She had a travel-size powder compact in her purse. Maybe a little freshening of her makeup would help her feel more confident. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bobby heading in her direction. She grabbed the glass of wine and slipped into the hallway, turning the corner toward the bathroom, only to find her way blocked by Gavin and Schuyler. Immediately, she slipped behind a potted palm, curiosity about the Fortunados getting the best of her despite the fact that it was wrong to eavesdrop.

“Come on,” Schuyler urged. “At least tell me her name. A name and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“You don’t fool me for a second,” Gavin said, amusement and irritation warring in his tone. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Schuyler threw up her hands. “Because this mystery woman doesn’t exist. Admit it, you aren’t dating anyone.”

Gavin opened his mouth, but Schuyler held up a finger. “At least not anyone serious.”

“Oh, it’s serious. It’s also none of your business.”

“Tell me something about her. One thing, Gavin.”

“She has blue eyes,” he answered without hesitation then added, “And fiery red hair.”

“A ginger.” Schuyler rubbed her hands together. “I need more details.”

Gavin shook his head. “You said one thing. I gave you two.”

“Where did you meet? Why didn’t you bring her? How long have you been dating?”

“Schuyler, stop.”

“I can’t,” she admitted with a laugh. “I need a new project now that Maddie’s wedding is over. You’re it.”

“I’m not,” Gavin insisted, running a hand through his thick hair.

He looked so uncomfortable and unaccustomedly vulnerable that Christine’s heart stuttered. Tonight was the first time she’d seen this side of Gavin. He seemed almost human...not so picture-perfect, and it made her like him all the more. Which was dangerous, because she already liked him way more than was wise.

Without thinking, she took a step forward, away from her spot behind the fake plant. Gavin glanced up for one instant, and he looked so darn happy to see her. She wanted that look in his eyes to last. So instead of retreating, as her brain instructed, she moved toward them.

Schuyler glanced over her shoulder. “Hey, Christine. Are you having fun?”

Christine swallowed against the ball of nerves stuck in her throat. “It was a beautiful wedding, and Maddie and Zach look really happy. You did an amazing job with the planning.”

“Thanks.” Schuyler’s smile was so genuine, Christine almost let the conversation end there. She was an honest person who valued her job and the relationships she’d forged with each of the Fortunados. But dancing with Gavin had been like eating a bite of cake after dieting for years. One taste wasn’t nearly enough. She wanted the whole piece. “Please don’t be upset with Gavin,” she said, working hard to ensure her voice didn’t waver.

Schuyler frowned. “Do you mean our argument out here?” She laughed softly. “Don’t worry. It’s a friendly brother and sister thing. I have to convince him to give up the name of the woman—”

“I asked him not to say anything.” Christine wrapped an arm around Gavin’s waist and leaned in close. “I wasn’t sure if your dad would approve of us.” She glanced up at Gavin and smiled. He was staring at her like she’d just sprouted a second head. Not exactly catching on to her plan, which made sense because she didn’t actually have one.

“Wait.” Schuyler gasped, her gaze ricocheting between the two of them. “What?”

Christine looked at Schuyler once more. “I hope you can understand...we wanted to keep things private. It was never my intention to deceive you, but—”

“Are you saying that you’re Gavin’s ghost girlfriend?”

“I know it probably comes as a surprise.”

“Understatement of the century,” Schuyler muttered. “You can’t expect me to believe—”

“It doesn’t matter what you believe.” Gavin looped an arm around Christine, dropping a kiss on the top of her head that she felt all the way to her toes. “Christine isn’t a ghost, but think about how you were giving me the third degree. I didn’t want her to have to deal with that, not when I wasn’t here to protect her.”

Christine resisted the urge to whimper. Maybe it was the wine, but the thought of Gavin protecting her made funny things happen to her insides.

Schuyler’s mouth dropped open. She stared at them for several long seconds. Christine tried to act normal and not like she might spontaneously combust at any moment. She rested her head against Gavin’s chest, and as great as dancing with him had been, this took things to a new level. Without having to concentrate on the steps, she could enjoy his warmth and the feel of his rock-solid muscle. Not to mention the way he smelled, a mix of expensive cologne and soap. Would it be weird if she reached up on tiptoe, buried her face against his neck and just sniffed? Yeah, definitely weird.

She waited for Schuyler to call them out on the lie. No way would anyone, let alone Gavin’s perceptive sister, believe that they were a couple.

“Well...okay, then,” Schuyler said slowly. “I’ll admit I’m at a loss for words.”

“Thank heavens for small favors,” Gavin muttered.

“I still can’t believe... I mean how long have you two been an item?”

“A while,” Gavin said before Christine could answer. A good thing, too, because the reality of what she’d done was suddenly crashing over her.

“Don’t tell your dad,” she blurted, earning a frown from Schuyler and a gentle squeeze from Gavin.

“He loves you like you’re part of the family,” Schuyler told her. “You know that.”

“He loves me working for the family,” Christine clarified. “This is different.”

“Gavin, tell her she has nothing to worry about from Dad or Mom.”

“I have already, but you still need to honor Christine’s feelings.” He lifted a hand to Christine’s chin, tipping it up until she was forced to meet his green eyes. This close she could see the gold flecks around the edges. She half expected to see anger or frustration for what she’d done, but he looked totally relaxed.

That made one of them.

“Christine makes the rules,” he murmured and before she could react to that novel concept, he brushed his lips over hers.

The kiss started innocently enough. She had the mental wherewithal to register that his mouth was both soft and firm. He tasted of mint gum and whiskey, a combination that had her senses reeling.

She felt him begin to pull away and some small, brave, underused part of her rebelled at the thought. She wound her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, sensation skittering down her spine when their tongues mingled. A low moan erupted from her...or did the sound come from Gavin? The sound jolted her out of her lust-filled stupor and she jerked back. She’d had a couple glasses of wine, but not enough to excuse her basically mauling this man in front of his sister.

“I guess you guys are the real thing,” Schuyler said with a laugh. “No one can fake that kind of chemistry.”

“Right,” Gavin murmured.

Christine kept her gaze on Schuyler. She had no idea what Gavin was thinking at the moment and was almost afraid to find out.

Schuyler wagged a finger at her brother. “Take care, big brother. Christine isn’t like your usual girlfriends. She’s special. Dad will kill you if you hurt her.”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he said tightly, and Christine felt the arm still holding her go taut.

“He won’t,” she confirmed. She didn’t need Schuyler reminding Gavin that she had nothing in common with the gorgeous, sexy women he usually dated. “He’s amazing.”

Schuyler laughed again. “If you say so. Shall we head back inside? I need a drink after this little bombshell.”

“We’ll meet you in there,” Gavin said, and Christine wanted to argue. She wasn’t quite ready to face his reaction to what she’d just done.

“Don’t take too long,” Schuyler told them, grinning at Christine. “Maddie should be throwing the bouquet soon. We need to position you front and center.”

Christine tried to laugh, but it came out more like a croak. “Sure,” she managed and waved as Schuyler walked away.

When they were alone, she forced herself to turn to Gavin again. “I’m so—”

Her words were cut off as he fused his mouth to hers.

Gavin hadn’t meant to kiss Christine again. He was still in shock from her announcement to Schuyler. He appreciated what she’d done. He’d been quickly running out of options when it came to distracting his sister from her obsession with his nonexistent girlfriend.

He owed her his thanks, but all he could think of was tasting her sweetness. His hands skimmed along the silky material of her dress, then over her hips, which held just the right amount of curve. And her reaction to him was a revelation. Straitlaced Christine Briscoe could kiss. She met him stroke for stroke, nipping at his bottom lip as if asking for more. Gavin lost himself in her, pulling her tight until her breasts pressed against his chest. As she had when they were dancing, she fit against him perfectly.

She was perfect.

How the hell had this happened?

Voices drifted from around the corner, and he took a step back, knowing the dazed look in her eyes probably mirrored the one in his.

“Hey, ladies,” he called as a group of his mother’s friends passed, several of them craning their necks to get a better look at Gavin and Christine.

He shifted so that he was shielding her from the curious gazes.

“We need to talk,” he whispered when the women had passed.

Christine nodded, staring at the floor.

Gavin drew in a breath. Was she terrified of him now? She’d tried to save him from his sister, and he’d all but shoved his tongue down her throat. She’d seemed a willing participant at the time but now...

Another group of people turned the corner toward them, and Gavin automatically laced his fingers with Christine’s and led her down the hall toward the hotel lobby. Her heels clicked against the pristine marble floors as they passed the stately columns that, along with the beautiful stained-glass dome, was the hallmark of the Driskill’s famous lobby.

“Hey, Christine.” The man she’d been standing with at the bar earlier, Bobby, waved from where he stood in front of the concierge desk. “A few of us are going to bail on the dancing and head to an Irish pub around the corner. Want to—”

“Oh, no,” Christine whispered, her lips barely moving.

“She’s busy,” Gavin called and headed for the elevators along the far wall. She followed him in without protest but tugged her hand away as he hit the button for the fifth floor.

“Are you staying here, too?” he asked, not sure how to broach the subject of what had just happened between them. His wildly successful legal career had made Gavin believe he could talk his way out of any situation. Not so, apparently.

She shook her head, a lock of fiery hair falling forward to cover her cheek. Had he run his hands through her hair, loosening the elegant chignon? He couldn’t remember but suddenly he wanted nothing more than to see the bright strands cascading over her shoulders. He’d told his sister he was dating a woman with blue eyes and auburn hair. Maybe he’d been unconsciously thinking of Christine after their dance.

“Gavin, I—”

The door opened, cutting off whatever she was going to say to him. An older couple got in.

“Going down?” the man asked.

Gavin shook his head. “Up.”

“We’ll ride along,” the woman offered. “You two look fancy.”

“Wedding reception,” Christine said quietly.

“I love weddings.” The woman sighed. “Always so romantic.”

Her husband snorted. “Except when your brother got sloshed and threw up on the dance floor at ours.”

“He had food poisoning,” the wife said, her tone clipped.

“Forty years.” The man lifted his hands. “She still can’t admit that her no-good brother’s a drunk.”

“At least he still shows up for holidays,” the woman shot back. “Unlike your rude sister and her—”

“Our floor,” Gavin interrupted when the elevator dinged. The door slid open, and he placed a hand on Christine’s back. “I’m at the end of the hall,” he told her when the door closed behind them with a snick.

His hand stilled as he realized her shoulders were shaking. Oh, God. Not tears. He could handle an angry jury or a recalcitrant witness. But tears killed him, especially the thought that he’d caused them.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “It will be—”

A sob broke from her throat. No, not a sob. Laughter.

She lifted her face, and he realized her tears weren’t from anxiety, but amusement. “I know our relationship is five minutes long and a complete lie,” she said, wiping her cheeks as she laughed, “but promise we’ll never fight about your drunk brother.”

He grinned and looped an arm around her shoulder as they started down the hall. “Fortunados can handle their liquor,” he promised. “Do you have a sibling? I don’t even know.”

“A sister. Aimee is a year younger than me and perfect in every way.”

“Perfection must run in the family.”

As lines went, Gavin thought it was a pretty good one. Both subtle and charming. Christine only burst into another round of laughter. He was definitely losing his touch, although it was somewhat refreshing to be with a woman who didn’t melt in a puddle at his feet. Gavin liked a challenge.

He wouldn’t have pegged Christine as one, but this woman surprised him at every turn.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, clasping a hand over her mouth when a snort escaped.

He unlocked the hotel room door and gestured for her to enter.

“I hate to be indelicate,” he said when they were both inside, “but are you drunk?”

She shook her head and drew in a shuddery breath. “It’s just been a crazy night, you know?”

“I do. Would you like a drink now? I have a bottle of Mendoza red that was left in the welcome bag for wedding guests. Or water?”

“No, thanks.” Now that her laughter had stopped, Gavin could almost see the wheels turning in Christine’s brain as she became aware that she was alone with him in his hotel room.

“Would you feel more comfortable if I propped open the door?” He shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto the edge of the bed.

“I trust you,” she whispered.

He blew out a breath, surprised at how happy the simple statement made him. He loosened his bow tie then undid the top button of his tailored shirt.

“Christine, I want to—”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. All the amusement from minutes ago had vanished from her features. “I shouldn’t have butted into your conversation with Schuyler. You don’t need my help to handle your sister and—”

“On the contrary. I want to thank you. You rescued me.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist, and he could see her knuckles turning white from pressing her fingers against her rib cage. “I’m not sure what possessed me to get involved,” she admitted. “I guess because you helped me with Bobby earlier.”

“Bobby is a putz.”

One side of her mouth curved, not a true smile but a step in the right direction. “That’s true, which makes our situations different. Schuyler is your sister and she cares about you.”

“She’s also relentless.” He took a step toward her, slowly, like he was approaching an animal that might spook at any moment. He didn’t want to spook her. “Would you like to sit down?” He inclined his head toward the couch positioned in front of the room’s large window. “We can talk about next steps.”

Her cornflower-blue eyes widened. “Next steps. Okay.”

He grabbed two bottles of water from the mini-fridge and set them both on the coffee table before taking a seat next to her. “In case you get thirsty.”

“You’re really not mad?” She leaned forward and slipped off the heels she wore, revealing the most adorable painted pink toes Gavin had ever seen.

Hell, when was the last time he’d been with a woman? Granted, he’d been busy with work so his personal life had taken a back seat. But he was too far gone if a glimpse of toenail polish could mess with him like this.

“Christine, I’m grateful. I’d already made up a girlfriend. You made her a reality.”

She tucked her legs underneath her. “And the kiss?”

“You’ll never hear me complain about a beautiful woman kissing me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I took it too far.”

“You were convincing.”

Color stained her cheeks. “Maybe I missed my calling. I should have been an actress.”

“Hmm.” Gavin didn’t like the sound of that. It bothered him more than it should to think she’d been faking the kiss, even though that was what this whole thing was. A fake. He forced a smile, unwilling to let her see his reaction. Best to keep things light and casual, and he could do that better than almost anyone he knew. “I’m hoping you’ll be interested in a repeat performance.”

Christine made a sound that was somewhere between a yelp and whimper. “Of the kiss?”

Hell, yes.

“Actually, I was talking about you acting as my girlfriend.” He ran a hand through his hair. “While I’m in Austin for the next few weeks.”

“Weeks?” She uncurled her legs and dropped her feet to the thick carpet. For a moment he thought she was going to bolt. Then she placed her elbows on her legs and rested her head in her hands. “Weeks,” she repeated on a slow exhalation.

“I’ll make it worth your while.”

Her head snapped up. “Like I’m a hooker?”

“Of course not.” He shifted closer. “What I meant to say was it will be easy for you.”

“You think I’m easy?”

“No. God, no.” He leaned back, raised his gaze to the ceiling, hoping for some way to salvage this conversation. When he found no inspiration from above, he looked at Christine again, only to find her grinning at him. “That was a joke?”

She nodded. “You’re different than I thought you’d be,” she said quietly. “Not quite as perfect as you look at first glance.”

“Is that a compliment or a criticism?”

She bit down on that full lower lip, and his insides clenched. “A compliment. It’s good to know you’re human.”

“I don’t usually like it when people tease me,” he admitted.

“Oh.”

“I like it with you.”

“I’m glad.” Another smile, this one almost shy. “I know you don’t think I’m an easy hooker. You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so your family leaves you alone. We’d have a fake relationship. That sounds simple.”

Did it? Gavin wasn’t sure what to make of his feelings for Christine, but they definitely weren’t simple.

“Right,” he agreed anyway. “One of the law firm’s larger clients is based in Austin and we’re finalizing a merger with another financial institution. Everything should be complete by the end of the month. It makes sense that we’d be together now, and then when I go back to Denver, you can break up with me.”

“Like anyone is going to believe that,” she said with a harsh laugh.

“Long distance relationships are tough. I don’t think it will come as a huge surprise.”

“The part where I break up with you is going to be the surprise.” She sat back on the sofa, so close that he could feel the warmth of her body. “Your family knows you’re a bit of a playboy.”

“Am not.”

She rolled her eyes. “How many women have you dated?”

He thought about that, grimaced. “Since when?”

“I rest my case,” she told him.

“But this is different.” He took her hand, laced their fingers together and looked directly into her eyes. “You’ve changed me.”