Her One Night Fiancé (Love in London 3)

He’d been stiff as he’d walked—like he was overly conscious of his movements. Like he knew he was being watched. Yeah, he’d known she was there and he was determined not to care about her feelings at all.

She was furious with him—why had he ruined her memory of that night? Why sour it with such unsocial behavior now? Why be such a complete jerk?

Ironically, it was her best morning’s sales. By rights she shouldn’t have sold a thing. But her customers didn’t pick up on her stormy mood. Instead, she faked the happy romantic spirit so hard she had the boys buying double. How typical that she could get guys to buy big for the women in their lives, yet she couldn’t land a man who would even just say hi to her?

As closing time finally neared, pain pushed at her temples and she felt lightheaded. She stood behind the counter and took a moment to regroup, hoping some more Stella-type spenders would walk through the door.

Only the next person through the door wasn’t a customer.

“Nina.” He walked until he stood across the counter from her. Tall, solemn—more unnaturally expressionless than usual.

“What do you want?” She couldn’t fake any politeness now.

“Nina.” His answer came too soft, too forced. He stared at her, the muscles in his jaw tight, his lips firmly pressed together.

She couldn’t bear to see the ice in his expression, so she looked down at her frozen hands. That’s when it dawned on her.

“Oh.” She’d laugh if it weren’t so mortifying. “Your diamond.” She’d been in such a hurry to get out of his house the other morning, she’d forgotten she had it on. She’d been planning to put it though his letterbox—except that had seemed a little unsafe for something so valuable. If he’d actually bothered to say hi this morning, she’d have given it to him and it would all have been cool.

“Not the diamond,” he said harshly.

No?

His head moved, the smallest negative. “My patient died.”

Silenced, she stared at him.

“The car came for me. I needed to see him and be with his parents. I’d just had the call.”

This morning—when he’d been so remote and cold. Oh no.

“I’m sorry.” Her throat tightened.

He stepped back as she stepped out from the counter. “They’re private clients,” he explained quickly. “They’re both financiers. Caspar is their only child. They chose to care for him at home these last few months and I visited every morning before starting at the hospital.”

Nina stared at him, eyes stinging. But he wouldn’t look at her now and she needed to see what he was thinking—and feeling.

“How old was he?” she asked, afraid of the answer—knowing no matter what, it was going to be bad.

“Three.”

“Oh, Ed—”

“I know I was rude to you this morning. I wanted you to understand why I didn’t stop to talk. Or smile. I couldn’t say anything this morning because…” He cleared his throat, glaring at some invisible speck on the floor. “I couldn’t say anything.”

“This was the patient you went to the other night, after the restaurant.” It all became clear to her—why he’d been so serious. Why he’d wanted the fun.

He nodded, a frown creasing his forehead.

“You could have told me.” She’d opened up to him, she’d have tried to help. Even just listen.

His frown deepened. “I didn’t want to score pity points. And it’s hardly light, is it—talking about a patient about to die. I didn’t want that. I wanted…crazy flashmob fun.”

She understood wanting a night’s escape. It was what she’d wanted, too. But she also understood the need for comfort. And right now, she sensed that deep need in him. Not sexual. This was sadness. Misery.

But he stood so far from her. Rigidly controlled—rejecting that need. He turned toward the door.

“It must have been a really crappy day for you,” she said quietly. The lamest thing to say, but it was all she could think of.

He stopped still again, his head bent. “It doesn’t matter. I’m used to it.” He spoke with such a low tone she could hardly hear him. “Comes with the job.”

Quietly, she walked up behind him. “Eduardo…”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeated, as if he hoped it would be true if he said it often enough.

She put her arms around him from behind, offering comfort. Nothing but human warmth and sympathy and support.

He resisted—flinching at first and then stiffening in absolute rejection. But she didn’t draw back. She wasn’t going to let him turn to stone. She pressed closer, turning her face so her cheek was pressed to his back, splaying her hands to hold him tight. She could feel his heart thundering into her palm.

His head dropped and she felt him release a gush of air. She moved quickly, stepping around him, keeping her hands firm on his body. He didn’t meet her eyes as she rose on tiptoe to get nearer to him. She put her palm to his cheek, felt the damp heat and the hard muscle beneath as he tried to keep it all in. He shouldn’t try to keep it in.

She slid firm fingers into his hair, breathed his name, and drew his head down to her shoulder. He moved slightly, another shuddering sigh as if his lungs were too squeezed for him to breathe. Then his arms snaked around her waist—suddenly, he was holding her close and tight. So tight her lungs were as constricted as his. Tremors ran through him. She felt his face pressing hard into her shoulder, felt the damp on her shirt. Too few tears for something so terribly sad. She closed her eyes and let him crush her to him.

It lasted only moments before he drew back, with a quick sniff and a half-muttered “sorry” and still he wouldn't look at her.

“Eduardo.”

“I’m okay.” He finally met her face on.

“It’s okay not to be.”

The blue in his eyes was even paler than usual. But as she watched, the hint of vulnerability in his expression disappeared. A predatory gleam crept into his eyes. His focus flicked to other parts of her. And as thrilled as some of her was to see that, the rest of her steeled. Because she wanted more. She wanted some answers.

“I’ve missed you.” Huskily, he spoke to her mouth.

“Really?” She didn’t believe him. “Then why was your good-bye the other morning so dismissive?”

He rubbed his jaw, his finger brushed across his beautiful lips. Then he sighed and dropped his hand. “I thought it’d be best if we didn’t see each other again.”

That hurt. She looked down so he wouldn’t see the pain in her eyes.

He muttered something indecipherable in Spanish and then switched to speak in English. “The other night was amazing. You know how amazing. But I didn’t want to complicate things for you a few days out from your departure.”

“So you were being cruel to be kind?” She sprinkled sarcasm on her words.

“I don’t have long-term relationships, Nina. This can’t go anywhere.”

Did he think she didn’t know that? “I’m not so naïve I think one night of hot sex will lead to ever after,” she said, firmly on her dignity.

“You admitted you’re not experienced in short relationships.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t handle them.” She lifted her chin. “All I wanted was some fun, too. You didn’t need to go so cold on me in the morning. I don’t want to keep this ring.” She held her hand up in front of him.

Silently, he regarded her. She watched the emotions flicker on his face—he was tired now. That was obvious—because he couldn’t block those emotions from his eyes—unhappiness, loneliness. And that yearning for some kind of relief.

She knew what he wanted—to bury himself in her and escape the heartache of to

day. And she wanted to let him. She had her own heartache to escape from.

But she wasn’t going to let him have it that easy.

“There’s a Shakespeare exhibition on at the British Museum. It’s late-night closing tonight. I’m planning to go.” She wasn’t giving that up—not for any guy.

There was a micro-moment of silence.

“May I come with you?” Eduardo asked, so politely.

Nina went hot. Corey would never have volunteered to go with her to any kind of exhibition. If she’d succeeded in dragging him, he’d have spent the time scoping out the café and the shop and sending texts on his phone. To his other women.

Nina braced herself. “I should warn you I can take a long time in a museum.”

Eduardo looked at his watch. “Then we’d better get going so you have as long as possible before closing.”

Ten

Eduardo loved museums. And this exhibition was up there with the best he’d seen. It held his interest, made him chuckle, and helped him forget things for five minutes. Thank heavens for Shakespeare.

And thank heavens for the woman whose hand he refused to let go of. She led him, slowly, from one stand to the next. She spoke at length to the guides and read every word written on the displays. She seemed surprised at his interest. He even caught her open-mouthed surprise when he asked a guide a question, too. And he caught another amazed look when he stopped to watch one of the videos from start to finish.

“I’d like to work in a museum like this,” she said as they neared the end, giving him a sideways glance as if she thought he’d laugh.

“You’d be good at it. Great. You could share all your favorite Shakespeare quotes with the schoolkids.”

She laughed and it warmed that cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Seriously,” he said, holding her hand more firmly in his. “I think you’d be fantastic. You have such enthusiasm, it’s infectious.”