Читать книгу A Very Fake Fiancée: The Fiancée Charade / My Fake Fiancée / A Very Exclusive Engagement - Nancy Warren, Andrea Laurence - Страница 15

Eight

Gemma froze. Her first thought was that he knew Sanchia was his, but then the way he had referred to her registered.

He had said “your child,” not his child. Which meant he had probably read one of the gossipy snippets of information the tabloids had recently printed. Snippets which had implied that Zane was the father and thankfully hadn’t included any real details about Sanchia, such as her age. The reporters had been more interested in repeating known facts about Zane rather than far less interesting facts about either herself or her daughter.

For a few taut seconds, the urge to confess to Gabriel that Sanchia was his was strong enough that she actually opened her mouth to speak, but the caution that had gripped her ever since the last nanny had accused her of being an unfit mother reasserted itself.

The custody situation was difficult enough without introducing the complication of Sanchia’s biological father. “That’s why you intervened? Because you thought Zane wouldn’t be interested in fatherhood?”

Gabriel frowned. “I intervened because I was the one who put you in a situation where you came into Zane’s sphere of influence in the first place.”

Gemma gripped the lapels of Gabriel’s jacket, hugging it more closely against the wind, although that was a mistake, because the movement released more of his clean, masculine scent.

She went back to the issue of just how she had gotten her job. “What makes you so sure I wouldn’t have gotten the job purely on merit?”

“Constantine wanted someone who could be trusted with confidentiality. I told him you could.”

If Gemma had felt chilled before, she was warming up fast. Gabriel probably thought he was pouring oil on troubled waters, but as far as she was concerned it was more like pouring gasoline on a smoldering fire. “You mean I got the job because I kept quiet about sleeping with you?”

Her throat had automatically locked against the phrase one-night stand. Maybe it hadn’t been special for him, but she had been caught up in the fairy-tale magic of the night, the indefinable feeling that the gorgeous man who had come to her rescue was special.

He shrugged. “A lot of people are affected by wealth. They have an agenda. That didn’t seem to be the case with you.”

She frowned at his summation of her character, even though it was on the positive side. Maybe it was simply that his view of her was so objective. She couldn’t help thinking that if he had ever been even the tiniest bit in love with her, he wouldn’t have seen her in such a cold, impersonal light.

Like an employee.

It highlighted an aspect of Gabriel’s character that she had suspected had always been there. That in his heart of hearts, Gabriel valued control and slotting people into neat boxes more than he valued spontaneous love and affection.

It explained why his mother had thought he would accept a marriage to a well-connected, suitably rich and beautiful girl.

Suddenly, the idea that Gabriel could judge her for possibly wanting to make a good marriage, when it was obviously standard practice within the Messena family, made her bristle. “So you thought I had an agenda, as in trying to marry the boss.”

His gaze narrowed warily. “It happens.”

“And sometimes the agenda works the other way. There are plenty of employees who get sexually harassed.”

“Point taken.”

The piercing look Gabriel gave her made her feel distinctly uncomfortable and she hastily decided that it was time to drop this subject. He was referring to the relationship he thought she’d had with Zane, but the last thing she wanted him to do was remember back to what had happened six years ago and figure out that he could be the father. “Why should you care, anyway?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, and she had the distinct sense that she had been neatly maneuvered. “Because I have a proposition for you. You need a fiancé to get Sanchia back, and as it happens, I need one to short-circuit a clause in my father’s will.”

In clipped phrases he explained the glitch with the will that his uncle was presently exploiting in order to pressure Gabriel into a marriage he didn’t want.

An absurd sense of relief gripped her at the explanation that Gabriel wasn’t in love with some beautiful, perfect woman, but was trying to avoid an arranged marriage. It also cast a new light on his pursuit of her tonight that made a depressing kind of sense. He wasn’t after her because of passion, but business.

Gabriel shrugged. “To cut a long story short, if you’ll agree to be my fiancée for the period of time it takes me to gain full control of the bank, in exchange I can offer you an apartment, a job and whatever else you need to get your daughter back.”

The offer was riveting, but tempted as she was to grab it, she couldn’t ignore the danger of getting too close to Gabriel. “How long would you need me to pose as your fiancée?”

“A week at most. That should be enough time to convince the legal firm that handles the trust provision of the will.”

Her mind was racing. She could do it. She could be Gabriel’s fake fiancée for a week. After all, she was trained to act. How hard could it be? She drew a swift breath. “What kind of job?”

“The same thing you did for the Atraeus Group. The reason I came to Medinos was to meet with Constantine. He’s starting up a new branch of Ambrosi Pearls in Auckland. I’ll be taking care of the launch phase. We start advertising for staff next week.”

Still feeling skittish and cautious, despite Gabriel offering her everything on her current wish list, Gemma took a deep breath and let the idea settle in. It was a new venture with an old established firm like Ambrosi, and the kind of opening she would have wanted to apply for anyway. The fact that Gabriel was only involved in the start-up phase meant that she could keep the job after their charade ended, which would be perfect.

With a new job and an apartment. It would mean that she could get Sanchia back immediately.

Before she could change her mind, Gemma said, ‘Yes.”

The momentary flash of surprise in Gabriel’s gaze startled her. “You thought I was going to refuse.”

“It crossed my mind, since the job combines a personal relationship with employment.”

“I do believe there’s a line drawn in the sand. It’s called a personal contract.”

A hint of impatience jerked his brows together. “Yes, but in this case we have a verbal agreement that the initial stages of this job involve some personal connection.”

The startled recognition that Gabriel wanted more than just a charade set off alarm bells, although the alarm was almost totally drowned by a tingling heat that was dangerous.

She cleared her throat and tried to keep her tone smooth and professional. After all, Gabriel had just employed her as his PA. “Of course. Definitely. Within certain bounds.”

And the first rule would be that if they were going to proceed, she needed to protect herself emotionally.

“Good.” Gabriel’s hands closed around her arms as he drew her slowly, mesmerisingly closer. “We have an understanding.”

Gemma stiffened at the warmth of his touch, the instant fiery desire that swamped her. Somewhere in the back of her mind languished the concept that sleeping with the boss before they even got to the office was a very bad idea. “I’m not exactly sure what I understand.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve always regretted what happened six years ago.”

The words she had wanted to hear all those years ago shimmered through her, undermining every one of her reservations. “You can’t be serious?”

Reaching out, he linked his fingers with hers and pulled her closer and, like a fool, unable to resist him, she went.

The warmth of his breath drifted against her throat. “Why not?”

Because it was too late for the luxury of the wild, fatal attraction that was zinging through her. Too late for a replay of what had happened six years ago: the starry night, the champagne. The rescue.

She drew a swift breath. And all of those things followed by the off-the-register lovemaking.

The kind of lovemaking she would in all likelihood never again experience, because realistically, the type of man she would end up marrying would be a dependable, average kind of guy who placed a high value on family. He wouldn’t be either dangerously attractive or mega-wealthy. First off, Sanchia would have to like him.

A deep feeling of depression hit her at the thought that marriage with someone else would ultimately be dependent on Sanchia’s needs, not hers. That it would be an uphill struggle to find someone other than Gabriel who she could settle for.

Until that moment she hadn’t understood just how vivid and exceptional her response to Gabriel was.

Resolutely, she reminded herself of the non-negotiable list of things she needed to establish in her life over the next few weeks. She could not allow herself to be sucked back into a dream that had already proved to have no substance.

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.”