Her One Night Fiancé (Love in London 3)

But she liked the fire. Adored it. Was happy to melt and let him consume her completely. She wanted to be drawn right into the flames—wanted to feel like she could fly free in a way she’d never done before. She’d never felt anything like this from a simple kiss.

Though it wasn’t a simple kiss anymore. His hands shaped her curves, stroking her body—rousing it so the desire to move closer ruled her. Lost in that swift-rising sensual steam, she explored, running her fingertips down his back, tasting him with her tongue, pressing her aching nipples against his hard chest.

Their lips met, clung, sucked—until he pulled back to tease her with a series of soft kisses over her jaw and neck until she moaned, tormented and hungry. Eyes closed, she sought full knowledge of his body with her own. She’d no idea where she was anymore, or who might be around. She no longer cared. All that mattered was that he continue. That this heat be given full rein. She ached for fullness and completion. She didn’t want him to stop—never to stop.

He returned to her mouth, going deeper again. Possessing with strong, rough strokes. Involuntarily her hips jerked—rocking against him. She wanted his intimate lick. His steely muscles were hot, so was the hard ridge pressing against her tummy. It had been so fast, so easy to get to this.

To yes. To sighs of need, to trembling, tight muscles, to dampening, heated secret places. She wanted his mouth to move again, she wanted him to push her dress aside and taste her skin all over. She wanted to be naked with him.

Now.

Just as she thought it, he stilled completely, going like granite before gently pushing her away from him.

“We’d better get to dinner.” Husky, his accent sounded thicker. The pale blue in his eyes was almost obliterated by swollen, dark pupils.

“Oh…right.” She brushed her hair behind her ears and took a pace away, basically gasping for breath as he hailed a taxi.

Nina glanced at him—he was back in statue mode. It seemed he didn’t need an emergency oxygen tank like she did. She closed her eyes, mortified as she realized he hadn’t been anywhere near as moved as she had.

She’d just made such a fool of herself. She’d kissed him. She’d basically leapt on him—and she couldn’t even use the boyfriend pretense as her excuse. Not when any of the people she’d once intended to impress weren’t within eyeshot.

No one had seen.

And now all he wanted to do was get to dinner. Didn’t he want to skip it and go straight to his apartment to get it all on? Yeah, they definitely had different reactions to that kiss. She was ready to tear her clothes off—but his reaction? Who knew what he was thinking?

And there she was the one who’d said she wasn’t a hooker. But hadn’t she just “rewarded” him for the rock temporarily on her finger?

No. She pulled back from beating herself up too much. Because that hadn’t been about rewarding him at all—but herself. She’d wanted to kiss him. Fact was, she’d wanted to get her hands on him for hours. Yeah, her sex drive had roared back into town and was revving like a V8 race car ready for the horn.

But it seemed her sexual performance wasn’t anywhere near competition level. Just like Corey had said.

She turned to face him—about to pull out of the rest of the evening—when a taxi swerved alongside them. Eduardo opened the door and held it for her. Nina smoothed her dress—and her nerves. Damn it, she might as well enjoy a fancy dinner. He took the other corner of the cab—as far from her as possible.

Every doubt soared higher than before. And there were more of them. Because he was so deliberately ensuring there was no physical contact between them. He wasn’t talking, either. He just instructed the driver on their destination and sat back, back to being a lifelike sculpture.

Anger trickled, then flowed—unstoppable. All the anger that had been brewing inside her for so long. Surely she hadn’t imagined his response. He’d clutched her closer, he’d French-kissed the brains out of her. He’d teased with his hands and fingers. Hell, she hadn’t imagined the size of his hard-on. He’d been as into it as she was. And she’d been more into it than she’d ever been in her life. So he couldn’t act either the outraged virgin or the uninterested male. What was with the silent treatment?

Fierce, angry pride finally reared. She wasn’t doing the doormat thing this time. She’d done that for too long with Corey. She wasn’t going to run away from this, she’d confront the issue for once, not hide and hope it would go away.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you just then,” she said, her voice clipped and her hands going cold.

He turned toward her. In the late summer evening, his fiery expression was as clear as if it were midday. “Embarrass me?” A short, hard laugh burst from him. “I almost embarrassed myself on the footpath in broad daylight.”

She frowned. “Emb—”

“Don’t.” He cut her off with a sharp word and an involuntary jerk of his arm. “Don’t make me think about it. I’m still trying to calm down.”

Oh. Nina sat back and then darted a quick glance at his dark trousers. Good thing they weren’t skinny-fit, huh? He was still aroused—and he was fighting as hard as she was to regain control.

Her pesky doubts eased. She relaxed into the seat and smiled. “So what did you tell your aunt about me?”

Now his expression went sheepish. “That we met at the hospital. You’re a surgeon.”

Nina jerked up and choked on nothing but air.

“Don’t worry.” He glanced at her in mild concern. “She really doesn’t speak much English. You’ll be fine.”

“What sort of surgeon am I?” she wheezed, fanning her face with her fingers.

He had the grace to look slightly ashamed. “Brain surgeon.”

“At the age of twenty-four?” she shrieked. “Wow. I always wanted to be a child prodigy, but this is pushing it.”

He laughed. Hunching forward, his shoulders shook as he laughed hard.

Of course, that made her want to laugh too—all her earlier anger and hurt pride dissolved. “This is insane. I can’t possibly pretend to be a brain surgeon.”

“Of course you can,” he leaned back, still smiling. “She won’t ask you about it. To her, a brain surgeon is a nightmare. They want me to meet some woman who wants nothing but babies and who’ll drag me back to Spain. The last thing they want is me with a career woman. Especially not one in medicine.”

“You don’t want babies and a villa in Spain?”

He didn’t need to answer, his face said it all. What had put him off kids so vehemently?

“Nor do I,” she admitted. At least not in the foreseeable future. “But a holiday home in the sun could be good, though.” Then she went back to panicking about the scam ahead. “I don’t know the first thing about brain surgery.”

“Don’t worry.” He reached for his wallet to pay the driver. “I don’t really care what she thinks.”

“If that’s the case, why am I here?” she challenged. “Why are you here?”

He sighed. “Because even though I avoid them as much as I can, family is family. And they can guilt trip like no one else.”

She understood that. “It’s their sole purpose in life.”

“Yours too?”

“Why do you think I’m so far from home? I tried so hard to please my mother, I couldn’t be myself.” She’d gone abroad with Corey and thought she was free—only he hadn’t wanted the person she really was. Boring, not good enough in bed. He’d struck so hard and left her vulnerable to such horrid doubts.

“Then let’s go and make it fun, okay?” he invited.

That’s right. Some light, playful, fantasy fun. Not sensible. Not boring.

Nina was glad of Eduardo’s hand resting on the small of her back as they walked into the restaurant. She could handle the zinging sensation down her spine this time because she needed the implied support. Posh wasn’t the word for this place.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath as he looked across the tables.

“What?

?s wrong?”

“She’s brought a date for me anyway.”

“Maybe she suspected your story,” Nina mocked. “Shall I leave?”

“No.” He slid his arm right round her waist, practically pinning her to him. “The date is Gabi—my aunt’s niece. A cousin by marriage. She’s very nice.”

Gabi wasn’t “nice.” Gabi was completely stunning—like Victoria’s Secret stunning. Worse, Gabi spoke English.

“So lovely to meet you at last.” Gabi smiled at her as they got to the table, her accent as light as Eduardo’s.

Nina smiled back, including the aunt in her greeting. The tiny woman was dressed immaculately in Chanel from head to toe. Nina didn’t miss the swift appraisal the older woman gave her own dress. No. Brain surgeons could afford more than the off-the-rack LBD she’d thought she rocked. Still, what did it matter?

Actually, it didn’t matter at all, did it? Released from all expectation of the usual polite, society veneer, Nina giggled as she took a seat. Why not enjoy this? Why not relax and not care about what anyone really thought?

The idea was liberating, exhilarating, intoxicating.

Eduardo shot her an inquiring glance—having heard her amusement—but she lightly shrugged her shoulders and set about chatting to Gabi. It was pretty easy to keep conversation safe by asking the model lookalike all the questions—about her work and then about the best European travel spots and tips for each.

“What is it you like so much about traveling?” Gabi said, laughing.

“The food,” Nina answered promptly and honestly.

“But you’ve not been to Spain? Then you’ve not had the best.”

No. Some warmed olives probably didn’t count.

“Eduardo.” The doe-eyed beauty leaned across the table to chide him.

“Don’t worry, Gabi,” he answered with a smile. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Be sure you do.”

“You haven’t been to Spain in months.” His aunt—Graciela—interrupted in staccato, arctic tones. She spoke deliberately, in English, sending Nina an accusing glance.

“I’ve been very busy,” Eduardo carefully answered.