Engaged to Her Ravensdale Enemy

A shiver danced its way down her spine as he escorted her out of the lift to their suite, his hand resting in the small of her back. Once they were inside their suite he closed the door and pulled her to him until she was in the circle of his arms. ‘Happy with how tonight went?’ he said.

Was he talking about her business or their love-making? ‘I’ve got a meeting with the expo organisers next week,’ Jaz said. ‘It’s an exciting opportunity. I’m hoping it will lead to bigger events, maybe even internationally.’

He smoothed a wisp of her hair back off her face. ‘Why did you choose to design wedding gear? Why not evening, or fashion in general?’

Jaz slipped out of his hold, feeling a lecture coming on. Of course he would think weddings were a waste of time and money. He was a playboy. A wedding was the last thing on earth that would interest him. But to her they signified everything she had dreamed about as a child. Her parents hadn’t married. They hadn’t even made a formal commitment to each other. They had just hooked up one night and look how that had turned out. She had been passed between them like a parcel no one wanted until finally her mother had dumped her with her dad without even saying goodbye or ‘see you later’.

‘Jaz?’

She turned to look at him, her mouth set. ‘Do you know what it’s like to grow up without a sense of family? To have to borrow someone else’s family in order to feel normal?’

Jake frowned. ‘I’m not sure what that has to do with your choice of career but—’

‘It has everything to do with it,’ Jaz said. ‘For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be normal. To have normal parents, not one who’s off her face most of the time and the other who hadn’t wanted a kid in the first place. I didn’t have anything from either of my parents that made me feel a part of a unit. I was a mistake, an accident, an inconvenience.’ She folded her arms and continued. ‘But when a couple marries, it’s different. It’s a public declaration of love and commitment and mostly—not always, but mostly—one expressing a desire to have children.’

Jaz looked at him as the silence swelled. Had she said too much? Revealed too much? What did it matter? She was tired of him criticising her choices. ‘A wedding dress is something most brides keep for the rest of their lives,’ she said. ‘It can be passed down from a mother to a daughter. General fashion isn’t the same. It’s seasonal, transient. Some pieces might be passed on but they don’t have the emotional resonance a wedding dress has. That’s why I design wedding gowns. Every woman deserves to be a princess for a day. I like being able to make that wish come true.’ Even if I can’t make it come true for myself.

Jake gave a slow nod. ‘Sounds reasonable.’

‘But you think I’m crazy.’

‘I didn’t say that.’

Jaz went to the drinks fridge and poured a glass of mineral water, taking a sip before she turned to face him again. He was looking at her with a contemplative look on his face, his brows drawn together, his mouth set in a serious line, his gaze centred on hers. ‘I’m sorry if tonight’s been absolute torture for you but this weekend’s really important to me.’

His mouth tilted in a wry smile. ‘You’re not one bit sorry. You’ve enjoyed every minute, watching me squirm down there.’

Jaz smiled back. ‘It was rather fun, I have to admit. I can’t wait to see what press photos show up. I wonder if they got the one of you with the bouquet. Or maybe I should text it or post it online?’

He closed the distance between them and pulled her down to the bed in a tangle of limbs. ‘Cheeky minx,’ he said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Jaz stroked the sexy stubble on his face, her belly fluttering with excitement as his hard body pressed against hers. His hooded gaze went to her mouth, his thumb coming up to brush over her lower lip until it tingled, as if teased by electrodes. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘You mean you can’t tell?’ he said with a wicked sparkle in his eyes.

She snatched in a breath as his body moved against her, triggering a tide of want that flooded her body, pooling hotly in her core. ‘When you hook up with someone, how many times do you have sex with them in one night?’

A frown creased his forehead. ‘Why do you want to know?’

Jaz traced the trench of his frown with her finger. ‘Just wondering.’

He caught her hand and pinned it on the bed beside her head, searching her gaze for a pulsing moment. ‘Wondering what?’

‘If you’ve done it more with me than with anyone else.’