Her One Night Fiancé (Love in London 3)

“Oh.” She pressed both hands to her face as he switched it up into some electro-moves. “Robo-man,” she squawked. A minute later, she realized her mouth was hanging open and she swallowed, her throat so dry it hurt. “Where did you learn that?”

“YouTube,” he answered, moving seamlessly into a slow-mo twist.

Despite her emotional stress, Nina was in stitches. She giggled so hard tears streamed down her face. And then the tears weren’t quite all for laughter. She sobered instantly, quickly swiping away the saltwater trails under her eyes.

“Are you going to ‘Bid me good riddance and send me packing’?” He slowed, puffing lightly, finished up with a final jazz square as he switched off his phone.

“No!” The Greek chorus opposite answered.

“No,” she agreed with them. How could she?

“Put your cameras away.” He turned and held up his hands in front of the entire carriage full of now awfully quiet people. “This isn’t one of those staged wedding proposals that’s going up on the Internet.”

“It’s not?” Nina said with a sigh, playing up some dramatic disappointment to cover her wobbly emotions.

He span back to her, eyes flashing silver lights. “Do you want it to be?”

“No.” She shook her head and began to laugh again. What had happened? Had he taken illicit drugs or something?

“Didn’t think so.” He grinned and took the seat beside her. “Because that would be ridiculous, right? After only a week…”

“Right.” She nodded in vehement agreement. “So why are you here?”

He pulled the ring out of his pocket.

The Greeks simultaneously gasped.

“No, really,” he said to them apologetically. “It isn’t a proposal. It’s her ring already.”

“It’s his,” Nina contradicted.

“No one else can wear this ring now.” He looked back at her. “It’s yours.”

“But—”

“But me no buts,” he interrupted. “Listen.”

“You know that wasn’t Shakespeare.”

He grinned. “Many people think it was. But of course, you’d know the truth.” He leaned a fraction closer, his voice lowering. “I’m hoping you’ll quote him properly for me again. Soon.” He glanced out the dark window as the train slowed on entering the next station and then looked back at her, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. “Let’s get off to talk in private,” he breathed.

She had a flight to catch and if she got off the train, she’d likely miss it. She thought for less than a second. There were a million planes zipping to France every day. She could get another later—she needed to hear what Eduardo had to say. She needed to give him—them—that chance.

To her eternal amazement, her legs actually worked. Eduardo scooped up her backpack and led the way—straight to the nearest bench on the train platform. Hardly that private but at least not in view of a carriage full of attentive eavesdroppers thinking they were in on a romantic proposal.

“You’ve shrunk,” he frowned as he waited for her to sit.

“It’s the shoes.” She’d always been in heels around him—except for when she was spread-eagled on his bed. Now she was in travel trainers.

“Nina.” He sighed and sat next to her. “I know I’m your rebound guy.”

“You’re not,” she croaked. “That feels like forever ago. I was with him three years and I don’t think about him. I was with you less than a week and—” She bit her lip.

He smiled ruefully. “You didn’t love him?”

“I thought I did. I wanted to. I wanted to please him. To please my mother. To please everyone.” They’d all expected it.

“Maybe it’s time you pleased yourself.”

She nodded. “That was my plan.” Until he’d come along and turned her world upside down.

“You wanted to take risks, right?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then don’t go.”

She stared at him.

“What’s the bigger risk,” he asked. “Walking away now and never looking back, or staying with me?”

“You walked away from me,” she pointed out. “This afternoon.” It had hurt. It still did.

“And I’m so sorry about that,” he said. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. “I tried to tell you, but I’m not good at talking about any…” He bent his head. “I tend to—”

“Shut down?” she said bluntly. “Turn to stone?”