Читать книгу A Very Fake Fiancée: The Fiancée Charade / My Fake Fiancée / A Very Exclusive Engagement - Nancy Warren, Andrea Laurence - Страница 16

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.

Gabriel fully clothed was impressive; naked, he was beautiful. And, for the moment, hers. He let her touch him and shape him and learn the intriguing planes and angles of his body, the hard muscle and hair-roughened skin.

Keeping her close against the furnace heat of his body, he reached into the drawer of a bedside cabinet and found a condom. Lightning jagged through the sky, illuminating the room as he sheathed himself. Seconds later, when she stretched herself on him, the tension that had been slowly building wound unbearably tight.

His gaze locked with hers as he gripped her hips and she logged the fact that, as controlled as he was, Gabriel had been keeping his desire rigidly in check.

With easy strength he rolled so that he was on top. Tension coiled as she felt him lodge between her legs, the heavy pressure, the weight of him anchoring her to the bed.

Rain spattered on the wall of glass, filling the night with the rhythm of the storm. Heat and dampness seemed to explode, and suddenly the deep, achy throb low in her belly, the humid heat of the night was too much. Coiling her arms around Gabriel’s neck, she pulled him closer, pressing up against him. With a hoarse groan and one heavy thrust he was inside her, the night dissolving, one with the wild storm, as they clung together.

* * *

Long minutes ticked by while they lay entwined. The storm passed, leaving behind a dripping quiet and the heavy roar of surf hitting the white sand beach below the house.

Gabriel pulled her close. This time he took charge, making love to her with a slow intensity that took her breath.

Long minutes later, sleep tugged at Gemma along with the knowledge that now that they had made love, it was going to be impossible to keep Gabriel at arm’s length for the duration of their fake engagement.

Heat shimmered through her at the thought that they could make love again, that Gabriel wanted her. Making love had been a mistake: she’d known it, but it was too late now. The damage was done.

Her priority now had to be to concentrate on the professional aspects of the new job, which meant no sex. She needed to establish a working relationship with Gabriel that would fulfill the part he wanted her to play but that would not compromise her new job or her emotions.

Creating a professional distance was going to be tricky, especially with her willpower at such a low ebb, but it wasn’t as if she hadn’t coped without sex before.

She could do it, but after tonight she was aware it would take all of her acting skills.

Her last conscious thought was that the first thing she needed to do was leave. If she woke up with Gabriel they would make love again, which would be counterproductive. For now she would sleep, just for an hour....

* * *

Gabriel waited until Gemma’s breathing evened out before gently disengaging himself from the arm draped across his midriff and climbing out of the rumpled bed.

The room was filled with a pressing darkness, barely penetrated by the glow of a single lamp out in the lounge, but even so, he could clearly make out Gemma’s form. Against the burnished coverlet, her pale skin glowed like a pearl and the rich flood of red hair, leached of its color, looked like ebony on his pillows.

He studied the pure line of Gemma’s profile and the fierce need that had overtaken him earlier reasserted itself.

He wanted her, and he now knew how much she wanted him. The minute he’d kissed her earlier in the evening, the intervening years had seemed to dissolve, the chemistry instant and explosive.

Snagging his pants from the floor, he padded through to the bathroom, freshened up and pulled on the trousers. After draining a glass of water in the kitchen, he found Gemma’s canvas bag where she’d left it in the wine cellar and carried it through to his study.

Closing the door behind him, he flicked on a lamp and set the bag on his desk. Setting the bottle of champagne down on the glossy surface, he drew out the liquid soft mass of black silk and lace. His stomach tightened as his guess that it was lingerie, not a wrap, was confirmed.

As he pulled out what was without doubt a pretty negligee, he noticed something fluttering and white. A sales tag that Gemma in her impulsive haste to seduce Zane had clearly forgotten to remove.

His fingers tightened on the garment, elation gripping him.

The negligee wasn’t the symbol of a seasoned sexual relationship. It was new and unused.

It was the final confirmation.

The craziness of the night now made perfect sense. He understood Gemma’s position, her need to draw Zane into a committed relationship.

She had failed. Zane had already been committed to another woman, for which Gabriel was profoundly thankful. Because, as of an hour ago, as far as Gabriel was concerned, Gemma now belonged to him.

He noticed a glossy magazine in the bottom of the bag. Frowning, he pulled it out. It was folded open at an article, “How To Seduce Your Man in Ten Easy Moves.” He flicked through it, skimming a collection of articles on what men really wanted and a list of exotic tactical dating maneuvers that were “guaranteed to succeed.”

The evidence of the off-the-wall solutions Gemma had come up with to solve her custody problem should have been a turnoff. Instead it only proved just how unprepared and unpracticed Gemma was at making love. The magazine further underlined her lack of experience with men in general. He knew from what she’d told him that she hadn’t made love since she’d gotten pregnant.

The thought of Gemma with a baby made his stomach tighten. Heated tension hummed through him. If the explosive attraction between them was not simply an obsessive sexual attraction and blossomed into an actual relationship, Gemma could one day be pregnant with his child.

The thought was out in left field, and that was where it would stay, he decided, until he was certain. He would not repeat his father’s mistake by risking the calm order he had worked so hard to restore to the business and his family by succumbing to a searing attraction.

* * *

Gemma surfaced from a restless dream instantly aware of the warmth and weight of Gabriel’s arm where it lay draped across her waist. A small sensual shock brought her fully awake as she registered the delicious heat of his body, the sheer intimacy of waking up and finding him sprawled next to her.

Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table she discovered that, despite trying to stay awake until Gabriel fell asleep, at some point she must have slept deeply, because it was now after five in the morning.

It was past time to go, although she was finding it unexpectedly difficult to revert to the businesslike mode she had decided was the only sensible way forward with this relationship.

Knowing she shouldn’t, she turned her head on the pillow and studied Gabriel’s face in the dimness of the early morning light. Hair tousled, his lashes inky crescents against olive skin, he looked younger, and uncannily like the Gabriel of six years ago.

Her heart squeezed tight in her chest. In sleep, he looked oddly vulnerable and she had to fight the urge to simply cuddle up to him and immerse herself in the simple pleasure of his heat and warmth. She had to keep reminding herself that Gabriel was no tame pussycat; if she gave an inch, he would take a mile. If she was going to manage her way safely through the next few days, without falling in love with him all over again, she would have to be strict with herself.

And the first rule, now that Gabriel was her boss and her soon-to-be fake fiancé, was no more sex. She had given in to him tonight because she simply hadn’t been able to resist. She had felt starved of affection, starved of love. Maybe because of all the stress and the shock of the custody battle she had been unexpectedly vulnerable.

Whatever the cause, if she wanted to enforce the no-sex rule, she would have to leave now, before she was enticed back into his arms and lost her willpower altogether.

She intended to leave him a note, outlining her conditions. She was certain, given the businesslike way Gabriel had couched her new job description, that once he adjusted to the fact that she would not continue to sleep with him, that he would be happy with the idea.

Shifting slightly, just enough to dislodge Gabriel’s arm, Gemma inched nearer the edge of the bed. Fully awake now, the chill of early morning registered. The gray light of dawn pushed through the enormous expanse of glass that framed the panoramic view of the Mediterranean, revealing the hedonistic chaos of the bedroom. Her clothes and Gabriel’s were scattered where they had discarded them, and at some point the silk coverlet had slipped off the bed and now lay tumbled on the floor.

Outside the piercing cry of a gull was loud enough that Gemma held her breath as Gabriel stirred restlessly. The rumpled silk sheet slipped low on his hips, exposing his long muscular torso and the intriguing line of hair that arrowed to his loins.

Setting her jaw against the instant tug on her senses, and annoyed with herself that after years of abstinence she was actually fickle enough to let herself be ruled by desire, Gemma worked her way free of the gorgeous, entangling sheets. Her feet landed softly on the bare expanse of the hardwood floor, the cool of the marble-smooth wood sending an involuntary shiver through her.

Overpoweringly aware of her nakedness and the faint stiffness that telegraphed just what she had been doing for half the night, Gemma was tempted to drag the silk coverlet off the floor and pull it around herself as a covering. Reluctantly, she abandoned the idea. It was a miracle she hadn’t woken Gabriel up already, and modesty came a bad second next to her need to leave and reestablish her collapsed boundaries.

Padding silently, she found her panties. As she straightened, she caught a ghostly view of herself in a carved gold full-length mirror. Her mind instantly slid back to the riveting, addictive pleasure she’d experienced making love with Gabriel. Cheeks warming, she scooped up her bra, which was dangling over the arm of a chair, and a little desperately reminded herself of the downside of all this.

Six years, and she had made the same mistake with the same guy, and once again without settling any of the vital issues, such as love and commitment. The only saving grace was that this time they had used contraception so she was safe from a second pregnancy.

Despite the fact that she absolutely did not want to get pregnant, the thought was oddly depressing, because it brought home the fact that as irresistible as the passion they had shared was, love had definitely not been involved.

It impressed upon her the need to stick to her resolve that there would be no more sex, because giving in would only signal to Gabriel that she would happily accept sex over love and commitment, that she didn’t require him to value her.

When the fake engagement was over, she could work on forgetting Gabriel. She had done it before; she could do it again.

As she bent to pick up her lace dress, which lay pooled on the floor, her fingers brushed Gabriel’s discarded shirt, which was lying next to it. Irresistibly tempted, she picked up the shirt instead.

The faint, clean masculine scent that clung to the fabric made her stomach clench on a zing of desire. Out of nowhere a shimmering wave of emotion hit her. If she’d had any sense she wouldn’t have done such a silly, sentimental thing as picking up his shirt, but now that she had, she didn’t want to relinquish it.

It was silly. She didn’t need a memento of their time together. She would see Gabriel again in just a few days when she started at Ambrosi Pearls, but by then their relationship would be back on a proper professional footing. Apart from the necessities of the charade, there would be no more intimacy, no more passionate kisses, no more snuggling in bed. And absolutely no more sex.

Although, it was a fact that the shirt would be a more practical piece of clothing to wear on Medinos in broad daylight than the sexy lace gown.

A rustling sound, Gabriel turning over in bed, made her freeze in place. She risked a quick look. He was now lying sprawled on his stomach on the side of the bed she had vacated. In the gray light slanting across the bed, the long line of his back looked muscular and sleek, his tanned skin exotically dark against the white silk. From the even tenor of his breathing, and his utter, boneless relaxation, he had simply turned over and was unaware that she had left the bed.

Letting out a silent breath of relief, Gemma padded quickly from the room. Minutes later, she had found her bag and retrieved her phone from Gabriel’s jacket pocket. She located a bathroom off the main living area. After using the facilities and washing her hands and face, she quickly dressed.

As she fastened the buttons of Gabriel’s shirt, she checked the effect in the large vanity mirror. Gauzy and white, the shoulder seams fell halfway to her elbows and the shirttails covered her to her knees.

She tried not to notice the wild tousle of her hair, or the fact that her mouth was faintly swollen and there was a faint red patch on her neck where Gabriel’s stubbled jaw must have scraped her skin.

A tinge of misery edged through her resolve as she rolled up the trailing shirt cuffs until they were bunched just above her wrists. The result wasn’t stylish, but it was acceptable. She could easily be someone who had gone for an early morning swim and had decided to use a shirt as a cover-up.

Her heart leaped in her chest as she checked her wristwatch and saw how much time had passed. She still needed to write her note. If she was going to get out of the house before Gabriel woke up, she would have to hurry.

Not bothering to finger comb her hair, she picked up her bag and padded to the kitchen. Finding a piece of notepaper, she quickly dashed off an explanatory note. She included her email and phone numbers, anchored it on the counter with a cup then padded to the front door. Remembering to turn the alarm off, she eased the door open and stepped outside. Her heart hammered as she gently closed the door. Simultaneously, her phone chimed.

Sending a brief prayer upward that she had gotten out of the house before Sanchia rang, she answered the call as she walked quickly, avoiding the drive and instead heading for the beach. The route to town was more direct and it would be easier on her bare feet.

The conversation was grounding. It was a relief to put her own needs aside and think of Sanchia’s instead, and for her daughter the equation was simple—she needed the security of her mother back in her life.

Gemma checked her watch again as she said good-night and ended the call. She then rang the airline and changed her flight. The extra cost made her stomach hollow out, but now that she had a job, she would be able to replenish her bank account.

A fifteen-minute walk to the hotel, and hopefully any press would still be in bed after the late night. She had an hour and a half until her flight. She had already done most of her packing, so all she really needed to do was pile the few things she’d left out into her case, zip it closed then catch a taxi. She would check in and board straight away.

Once she got to Sydney, she would sort all of the furniture and possessions she had left in storage, dispose of the things she didn’t need and have the rest freighted to New Zealand.

Number two on her list of things to do was change her appearance. The idea was extreme, but she was tired of the media sneaking around after her, and with her stylish clothes and red hair she was just too easy to spot.

As long as her welfare caseworker knew she was engaged, there was no need for a media circus. She was determined that the move back home would be a complete fresh start, in all ways.

Tears welled as she walked along the pristine beauty of the shore, waves curling into foam at her feet. Dashing the moisture away, she kept her gaze on the distinctive shape of the Atraeus Resort, midway along the misted curve of the beach, and resisted the urge to look back.

She’d had a wonderful night and had said her own private emotional goodbyes to the relationship, such as it was. The small kernel of hurt that not once had Gabriel mentioned any degree of emotional involvement was the most difficult thing to acknowledge. Maybe he felt he hadn’t needed to because it wasn’t as if it was the first time they had made love, but the lack mattered to Gemma.

It underlined the need to enforce her own rules on the situation, and one of those was that if they were going to be engaged for a week, then during that time Gabriel would have to play his part. He would have to value her as if he did love her.

It was a small point, but it was important to Gemma. A man valuing his fiancée meant a ring, flowers, dinner— all of the important elements of a courtship that he had happily bypassed both times because she had slept with him so quickly.

* * *

Gabriel woke with the sun on his face and the space beside him in bed empty.

The second his lids flipped open he knew that Gemma wasn’t just missing from his bed; she was gone.

He should have seen it coming, read it in the quiet way she had tried to distance herself from him in bed after making love. A distance he had obliterated by the simple expedient of wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her close.

The first thing he saw as he climbed out of bed was her dress and shoes still on the floor. Padding through to the sitting room he noted that the canvas bag was gone, and the shirt he had tossed over the arm of a chair was missing.

He muttered something short and flat under his breath. After pulling on a pair of dark pants, he walked out onto the balcony. His jaw tightened as he noted the trail of footprints in the sand. Sliding his phone out of his pants pocket, he dialed the hotel and asked to be put through to security.

A brief conversation later, he hung up. He had thought Gemma might disappear for the day, but it was worse than that. She had just left for the airport.

Moving quickly, Gabriel walked through to the kitchen and found a note anchored to the counter. The message was simple, politely thanking him for the night together and stating the new terms of their relationship, which from now on, owing to Gemma’s status as his employee, would not include sex.

Gabriel’s fingers closed on the piece of paper, crumpling it. She had ditched him, close enough, and he hadn’t seen it coming.

Although, thinking back, it was not the first time. Technically, he had ended their last relationship, but Gemma had never at any point tried to cling to him or get him back. Six years ago she had seemed unruffled by the fact that he had no space for a relationship.

He smoothed out the crumpled note and reread it, frowning at the businesslike language, the small P.S. that stated that they would both have to play their roles as an engaged couple to the letter.

He frowned. What did that mean?

He was not exactly au fait with the whole process of getting engaged. As far as he was concerned this was just a sham that would facilitate his control of his company.

And keep Gemma in his bed until he could figure out just where the relationship was heading.

He finished dressing, not bothering with a shower and shave. By the time he accelerated away from the house, only fifteen minutes had passed since he had first woken up. Even so, he was certain he was going to be too late to catch Gemma.

As he drove, he dialed the airport. Precious minutes ticked away while the call was shuffled to someone more senior and manifests were checked. He had thrown his weight around and used every bit of influence he had, but by the time it was ascertained which of the international flights Gemma was on, the plane had been cleared for takeoff.

Pulling over onto the side of the winding coast road with its stunning views, Gabriel climbed out of the Maserati. Gaze narrowed against the glare of the sun, he searched the blue arc of the sky and saw the jet in the air.

The sea breeze whipped his hair around his jaw and flattened his shirt against his torso as he watched the jet for long seconds.

Despite all of the unanswered questions he had about Gemma, his unwillingness to commit, it was an out he didn’t want.

Too late to realize he should have cossetted Gemma more, treated her like a date instead of rushing her into bed. His approach had lacked finesse; it had lacked even basic good manners.

But the problem was, he wasn’t certain how much more he wanted from this relationship. All he knew was that Gemma had fascinated him six years ago, and she fascinated him now. They hardly knew each other, and both times the passion had been too quick, the situations pressurized. What they needed was the one thing they had never had: time together.

Although he had ensured that they would have that now.

Relief filled him that he had tied her to an employment contract. He had time on his side. After last night he was certain that, despite the odds, Gemma was emotionally involved. No woman could respond as she had and not be.

The addition to the note about playing their roles as an engaged couple slid back into his mind and a small, salient fact registered.

When he had flipped through the magazine in Gemma’s holdall during the night, he had noticed a large section on women being valued in relationships, with passages underlined in blue ink as if Gemma had read and reread the article, committing it to memory.

He had made love to Gemma, and now she wanted to be courted.

Sliding behind the wheel of the Maserati, Gabriel put the car in gear and drove back toward Medinos.

Now that he had some facts to work with, he could form a strategy. He was a little rusty with dating, and it was a fact that he had never courted a woman, but he had a major advantage. Gemma had slept with him twice, despite his utter lack of courtship, which meant that she had a definite weakness he could, and would, exploit.

Sexually, she couldn’t resist him.