Her One Night Fiancé (Love in London 3)

“Both.”

“You didn’t correct me earlier.”

“I couldn’t in front of those friends of yours. Not without blowing our story.” He toyed with the spoon. “Have you been wondering if I’ve spent the day dissecting gruesome discoveries?”

“Do you think that would bother me?”

“You don’t think it’s a strange kind of person who does that?”

“Not strange,” she disagreed. “Courageous. Strong. Brilliant.”

Television dramas and novels had glamorized a tough job. But his was different and he knew from past experience that talking about helping terminal cancer patients made people uncomfortable. “My work doesn’t make for great conversation.” He smiled. “Whereas talking about how beautiful you look? That’s great conversation.”

“Flatterer.” She put her glass down. “Don’t change the subject. I really want to know more about what you do.”

No. He didn’t want to go there. Not this week, when he felt like he didn’t do nearly enough. Anyway, in his life, work and women didn’t fit together. Work had and always would come first for him, and no woman would ever be okay with that. So he avoided the talk. “And I really want to have a night off.”

She inclined her head, her eyes sharply assessing. “All right, that’s fair enough.” A coy smile appeared on her lips. “So are you going to take me dancing?”

His skin tightened in anticipation. “You mean at a club?”

There was a pause, a widening of her eyes as she registered where else he might take her… dancing.

“Of course.” She batted her lashes at him.

But he’d seen the flush of heat staining her skin. It struck him she was more innocent than she liked to let on. She was hotter too—he still couldn’t think about that kiss earlier without getting harder than he’d ever been in his life. He shook his head.

“You don’t dance?” She teased now.

Of course he did. But he couldn’t dance with her in public, he’d get them arrested for lewd behavior within two minutes. He had to hold off long enough to get them in a private place. Home. And soon.

“Eduardo,” she challenged, her vivacious eyes sparkling. “You don’t want to make a fool of yourself in public?”

“I don’t want to make everyone else feel insecure about their dance moves,” he drawled with deliberate slowness.

“Oh, so you’re doing them a favor by not showing them up?” She so clearly didn’t believe him.

“That’s right.” He looked wickedly right back at her.

“So considerate of you.” She glanced across the room, her amusement dying. “Are you sure you don’t want to go and talk to Gabi? I won’t mind. She’s very beautiful.”

“I’m not so impolite I’d leave you alone and go talk to another woman.”

He saw the flare of disbelief in her eyes. Her esteem was too low. Jerk fiancé. Didn’t she understand how attractive she was? “Gabi and I are friends and we understand each other. I don’t need to spend time with her. Especially not when I’m already with the most intriguing woman in the room.”

She laughed and that flush colored her cheekbones again. “Why aren’t you engaged for real?”

Now he laughed.

“I’m serious.” She leaned closer. “You have everything going for you. You should have been caught long before now.”

Eduardo looked into her deep blue eyes. “I don’t smile enough.”

“You smile lots,” she said, surprised.

Tonight he had. Around her. But actually he spent so long locked in labs and on his rounds, he hadn’t socialized properly in eons. There was little point. No woman could cope with the hours and the intensity of his job. He’d tried once, but it had failed horrendously. In the end, his ex had detonated a jealousy-fueled bomb.

Since then, there’d only been occasional, brief flings. And he didn’t think it fair to enter into a relationship when he had no intention of doing the kids thing. “I get bored really easily,” he said, in partial honesty. “And I’m quite boring.”

“I don’t think you’re boring.”

That was because she was the kind of person who found something interesting in everything.

After Graciela and Gabi returned to their table, Eduardo had a hard time concentrating. He wanted to leave. He should have taken Nina back to his apartment after the pub and skipped dinner altogether. Except watching her delight in all those courses had been more pleasurable for him than the meal itself. And that meal had deserved its three stars. But now his body seemed to have bulked up—his muscles bunched too big for his skin, his heart pounded too hard against his ribs. He wanted to be alone with her. In her.

Thank heavens Gabi finally stood, insisting that she accompany Graciela to her hotel.

Eduardo caught his old childhood playmate’s eye. “Thank you,” he mouthed to her. He and Gabi had always understood each other. If his parents had ever managed to have the second child that they’d so badly wanted, he’d have loved it to have been a sister—someone just like Gabi. As it was, he cared about her in a brotherly way. She understood pressure and she understood loss.

They walked out of the restaurant together. Eduardo put Graciela and Gabi into the nearest taxi. As it took his irritating aunt away, he sighed in pure relief and turned to look at Nina.

Her eyes were very blue as she stood on the pavement, watching, waiting. Electricity arced between them—yet he was so tightly wound, he couldn’t seem to move.

He felt it before he heard it. The vibration, then the buzz of his phone. He knew who it was before he saw the screen. Between two rings of the phone, reality crashed back. His couple of hours of fun and escape were over and he hadn’t gotten anywhere near what he’d wanted. He answered.

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way,” he reassured Max. “It’s no bother at all.”

He put his phone in his pocket and got a grip on himself. He couldn’t touch her to say good-bye—if he did, he wouldn’t let her go and that wouldn’t be fair—to her or his patients. Or himself. There was only so much he could take tonight and his limits had been tested once already.

He hailed one taxi, then a second. She said nothing, simply listened and watched and he knew from the determined tilt of her chin that she understood what was happening.

“I’m sorry,” he said briefly. “It’s work. I have to go.”

“Of course.”

She was all dignified understanding, but he caught the flash of something in her eyes. He didn’t want to wonder what it was.

He instructed the first cabbie and handed him a wad of cash that would more than cover the cost of the journey. When he stepped back, he found she’d already climbed into the car. His body rebelled—wanting to climb in after her.

But he couldn’t, and really, it was a good thing. Tonight hadn’t been like the occasional fling he had with a random woman he met in a bar, where it was carefree and easy. This had been far more fun than that. But the want was too intense. Those kisses earlier? Stopping had almost killed him.

Eduardo figured the extreme need had its roots in tiredness. The bone-deep exhaustion he now felt magnified his emotions. So that meant, even if he could take her home now, he wouldn’t be at his best and no way was he giving her substandard satisfaction. She was bruised. She needed way better than that.

It just wasn’t meant to be and there was no point in trying to explain. It just wasn't. He lifted a hand in an apologetic wave. Their two taxis went in opposite directions, just as they were in life.

But on that long ride back out to the Docklands, Eduardo burned with regret.

Seven

; Wasn’t it Cinderella who left the ball early? Not Prince Charming. Where was the fun in that? After his admission in the taxi, and how he’d looked at her throughout dinner, she’d begun to think they’d go way past midnight. She’d felt the tension in his muscles. And his heat. She’d even had an extra strong coffee to see her through—though she wouldn’t have needed it. She’d been high enough on anticipation. She’d thought she was on the brink of an amazing conclusion to the night. But her first fun, flirty experience ever had been cut short with no proper explanation at all. Work had called? Really?

Tired, grumpy and frustrated, Nina unnecessarily polished the glass cabinets at the shop. Any victory over Corey’s friends now felt false and meaningless. The exquisite taste of the food last night had become a bland memory. Worst of all, those dreaded doubts had crept back. Had he kissed her that passionately? Or had all that heat been hers alone? Had he even received a work summons? What if he’d just programmed his phone because he wasn’t really that into her and was trying to let her down gently?

Thankfully, he hadn’t been on the footpath this morning when she’d strode down to catch the Tube. Of course, she’d left home ultra early to be sure to avoid him anyway, but she hadn’t drawn breath until she’d passed the spot and was on the train with a million other veiled-eyed commuters who ignored each other. No flashmob on the line first thing on a Monday. It was suits all the way.

She swiped the glass cabinets even harder and then glared as something else gleamed, this time on her finger. She was still wearing his ring. Its sparkle mocked her. She only had it on for safety’s sake and was mortified that she’d jumped in that cab still wearing it, but she’d wanted to escape as quickly as possible to avoid more awkwardness. She didn’t want to wear it, but she couldn’t leave it in her overcrowded flat. There were so many random strangers staying there it wouldn’t be safe. Until she could get it back to him, the best place for it—unfortunately—was on her finger.

The day dragged. She sold a few things, but not as many as usual. Not even Stella bustled in to make her laugh. Finally, it was ten minutes from closing and she couldn’t wait to get out of there. The beads and bracelets and symbols of romance really weren’t that pretty today.