Her One Night Fiancé (Love in London 3)

“Of course,” he said dryly.

“Some of the football isn’t bad.”

“What’s wrong, they’re wearing too much clothing?”

“The shirts are a little loose.” She played up and then laughed. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with appreciating beauty, right?” She so appreciated his.

“Nothing at all.” His answer was as laden with meaning as hers.

“Not to mention skill and talent.”

“And passion. They all have passion for what they do.”

“That’s true,” she mused, deliberately licking her lips.

Flirting was such fun with him. She tried to resist, but her smile was impossible to contain. Time to go home to his place, right?

He quickly leaned across and kissed her. “Let’s go get dinner.”

Perhaps he’d been thinking ahead, because he directed the taxi driver—not asking for her thoughts. She didn’t mind. There was no doubt he had a better idea of the restaurant scene than her.

The one he chose was Spanish.

“I figured you should try some dishes now so you’ll know what to order when you’re there.” He smiled broadly as they sat at the table.

“Good thinking,” she answered brightly, wishing the impossible wish that he’d go to Spain with her.

The food was divine, the company even better. How silly that his giving her travel tips smote her heart. How silly to be falling so quickly for someone so unattainable. Someone who still didn’t open up in conversation—who wanted to avoid any kind of deep entanglement.

She was a fool.

Two days later, early in the morning, Nina refused to open her eyelids. It was cruel how time had sprinted like a record-breaking Olympian. She’d finished at work yesterday—had laughed one last time with Stella, had promised to keep in touch. Her flight was tonight. They’d not discussed it. They’d discussed everything else that was light and silly and fun, but they’d not discussed this—the good-bye.

She was dreading the moment she’d walk out his door and never see him again. That moment was mere seconds away. He hated emotional scenes, that was obvious to her now. He simply froze them out. She’d not had the chance to find out why. But she didn’t want to experience his statue vibe again. So she moved quietly, hoping he’d sleep through her sneaky exit. He should, given they’d had sex as many times through the night as they’d had that first half-crazed evening.

Only, in the earliest hours of this morning, those last two times had been silent. There’d been no playful words or tease or laughter. Only slow, sweeping movements that had scored deep marks on her heart. She’d soundlessly made love to him. She’d wanted to love him—he made it so easy.

And so hard.

But now, as she carefully slipped out of the sheets, he lunged across the bed and wrapped firm fingers round her wrist. She turned to look at him, her heart hopelessly thudding, aching to hear words she knew he’d never say.

“Have lunch with me today. In the park by the hospital.” His voice was low and it was more of a command than a polite request.

Nina licked her dry lips—her heart somersaulting at the reprieve. A little more time. And a public place to say good-bye? Maybe that would be good. She wouldn’t do tears in public. She wouldn’t do anything overly emotional. And of course, neither would he. But she’d get

to see him one last time, and frankly, she couldn’t resist.

Five hours later, they were on the grass in the sun—the hottest day of the summer so far—and so the park was filled with crowds of happy people. But Nina felt like she was shut off—behind some glass bubble all her own. And in that bubble, the AC had been turned down low. She was freezing.

Eduardo clearly wasn’t suffering from the same problem. With an hour off from the hospital, he’d pulled his shirt off and lain back, his expression hidden by the large lenses of his sunglasses. She only had a few more minutes and she shamelessly watched him.

“You’re getting a tan before my eyes,” she groaned. “So unfair.”

“I’m olive-skinned.” He chuckled—his abs tightening as he did.

A flare of heat shot through Nina’s chill. “But you’re not actually that tanned. You’ve been stuck in a lab too long.”

“It’s been winter.”

And he hadn’t had a holiday. There was a big part of her wishing he’d choose to take a holiday right now. With her. She sighed as she looked down at him. He had it all. Brains, beauty, body—humor. When he warmed up? So much fun.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m jealous of you.”

He laughed. Really hard.

“Truly I am,” she said. “You’re brilliant, you’re funny, you’re kind and you get a tan in two minutes.” It was grossly unfair. And it was over.

Lightly waving her hand just above the grass so only the very tips tickled her palm, she couldn’t resist asking—probing where she knew there’d be no joy. Probably no real answer. But it was her last chance ever to ask and if she didn’t, she’d always wonder. And it wasn’t really a question, more a sad fact. “You don’t want a family.”

“I’m too involved with my work,” he said. “It’s not fair to have a relationship when I work the hours I do.”

“You really love it.”

“I do. Fascinating things happen in laboratories. Miraculous things.” He turned his head toward her, his expression suddenly guarded. He looked at her for a long moment. And then he seemed to make some decision. He leaned forward. “Like me. I’m a petri dish baby, made in a laboratory.”