Baby Bequest. Robyn Grady
left that night…
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
He willed his gaze to track up from the beating hollow of her throat. “You want your niece.”
“I could tell the greengrocer that. He’s not going to propose.”
How to explain?
He tugged an earlobe. “Your father…”
“My father would roll over in his grave at the thought of us marrying. You know that as well as I do.”
The knife twisted in his gut but he didn’t flinch. A poker face was a strategist’s best friend. “When we first knew each other, no doubt. But money changes a lot of things, including people’s opinions.”
“It doesn’t change the past.”
He knew the questions that shone from the depths of her eyes: Why did you leave? Why didn’t you have the decency to tell me?
Would she believe that he’d had no choice? Twelve years ago, for the first time in his life, he’d made the smart choice instead of the rogue one. As a consequence, he’d discovered who he was—who and where he needed to be. Free, alone and reasonably happy. He was wise enough now not to wish for more.
He edged around her unspoken question. “If I’d said goodbye, I wouldn’t have wanted to go.”
God knows, that was true.
Her lips hardened to a flat line. “Here’s a cliché that works. I was young and foolish. I thought you cared. It might be even more foolish to believe that you care to this extent now.”
“You think I’d offer something like this then walk away?”
Her eyes held his. “Yes, I do.”
“I give you my word.”
“Honor was never your strong suit.”
But she was forgetting…once when he could have taken her, a virgin, he’d left her alone. Hell, his mother had come from a nice family too until his father had ripped it out from under her and left her with an addiction as well as an infant she couldn’t care for.
He inhaled deeply.
All that was done with, buried. Dead. Obviously so was this discussion.
“Then I take it your mind is made up,” he stated with a smile that held no offence. When all was said and done, there wasn’t a reason in the world she should trust him. Regrettably it seemed too much had happened and too much time had passed to change that now.
“My deepest condolences on your loss,” he said, “and best of luck with your niece.”
But when he turned away, she caught his arm. Even through his jacket sleeve, the evocative warmth burrowed into his flesh, causing his skin to tighten and heat. Angling back, he studied her red-rimmed eyes and saw the same charged awareness that he felt, as well as thinly veiled fear.
Her throat bobbed on a swallow. “I’m just not certain this is the way.”
“What other way is there? You’ve already said that kidnapping’s out.”
It took a moment for her to return his crooked smile. But he didn’t miss the fine sheen erupting on her hairline.
Finally she blew out a breath and her hold on his arm slid away. “What would this…marriage entail?”
He faced her full on. “Being seen together. Buying a ring. Setting a date.”
“What about your work?” Her eyes dulled with skepticism. “Do you have time for this kind of charade?”
“I do have several important business transactions coming up, but, as I said, I’ll be in Sydney for a few weeks. I’ll try to limit my travel after that to keep the pretence up. And once you have guardianship of the child, and there’s no chance of things unraveling, we can go our separate ways.”
She rubbed her palms down the sides of her jeans. “Do you actually believe we can convince people that our engagement is real?”
“Absolutely.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Because in business you’re used to bluffing?”
Because since I laid eyes on you again, all I can think about is taking you in my arms and kissing you senseless.
His thoughts might have shown on his face since she blinked several times and a blush crept from her cleavage all the way up the column of her throat.
He rapped his knuckles against his thigh and crossed back to the desk.
One step at a time.
“We’ll need to show the world,” he explained, “that we’ve fallen in love. That we’re committed to each other.”
He collected a silver framed photo next to the globe and clenched his jaw.
What a waste. Amy had been a nice girl; too nice for his tastes. It had always been Jenna who’d caught his interest, the teenager with a wiggle in her walk and a sense of right on her side. Once upon a time he’d honestly hoped they would marry. If only things had been different…
He pushed if onlys from his mind, set the frame down, and met Jenna’s gaze again.
She seemed to be sizing him up. “And what precisely do you get out of all this?”
He merely smiled. “I get to help an old friend.”
“That’s not a very good answer.”
“It’s the only answer I have.”
“You mean it’s the only one you’re prepared to give. Forgive me if I’m a little skeptical of your motives.”
“What other motives could there be?”
She pressed her lips together as if they’d gone dry. “You wouldn’t expect us to…I mean…you’re not thinking that…”
An adrenaline surge threw his heartbeat into a cantor. “You’re asking if we’ll need to embrace…to kiss?”
Make love?
He crossed back and invaded her personal space until her neck arced slowly back. Gazing down into her eyes, he enjoyed a deep stir of desire—the same as long ago, yet somehow deliciously different.
“Jenna, we need to get something out in the open. Two people know when they’re sexually compatible. We were compatible then. We still are now. It would be crazy to deny it. And, yes, we will need to show affection in public. But I won’t take advantage of the situation.”
Naturally he wanted her, but that could only happen if she wanted him, too. And not out of comfort from grieving, or impossible dreams of happy families, but from a mutual hunger that deserved to be satisfied, once…possibly twice. That was the limit. That would be safe.
Calm, mingled with curiosity, washed over her face. “You’re a complicated man, Gage Cameron.”
“That’s where people come unstuck.” He grinned. “I’m easy to work out.”
He imagined his palm sliding down over her curves, his head lowering and insides smoldering as his mouth captured hers. She was frightened, filled with pain and a desperate need for reassurance. How easy it would be to meet her lips and give her some relief.
He bit down and moved away.
Time to go.
“I can get things underway tomorrow,” he said, almost to the door. “I’ll collect you at ten.”
“Gage?”
He turned back.
“I’m not sure I won’t regret this, but…” She hesitated then slowly smiled. “Thank you.”
He nodded and left, the dog trotting