Her One Night Fiancé (Love in London 3)

Now, as she spoke, she was aware that Eduardo hadn’t taken his eyes off her. Not once. He seemed intensely focused on her—and only her—and on what she was saying. He never looked beyond to see who else might be present, but paid attention as if she were the most riveting woman in the room.

As if she were the only woman in the room.

It was heady stuff and now her smile came so effortlessly.

“How did Nina con you into coming here tonight?”

Nina heard Nathan quietly ask Eduardo while she was talking to another of Corey’s old friends.

Maintaining her smile, Nina strained her ears to hear Eduardo’s reply as well as that of the woman she’d been talking to. No surprise that the challenge—that implied negative—had come from Nathan. He’d never liked her dating Corey—like he thought she wasn’t good enough for his best friend.

Now, for the first time in fifteen minutes, Eduardo looked away from her, lifting his chin to give Nathan an ice hard stare. “There’s nothing I like more than being near Nina.”

He turned back to Nina, utterly dismissive of the other man. Nina looked into Eduardo’s silver-tinged eyes and saw a flare of protectiveness. She swallowed, heart thudding, as he flashed a private, intimate smile.

Then he turned to speak to everyone. “And now I’m sorry but I have to take Nina away. We have another party to go to.”

Nina summoned her best apologetic smile, but it wasn’t anywhere near as apologetic as all that. She half waved at the others and let Eduardo take her hand and lead the way, weaving them through the crowded bar.

On the footpath outside, she breathed in some fresh air. “They all thought I was the evil hand-brake,” she said. She had to explain why she’d felt such fear in facing them.

“The what?”

“The hand-brake. The boring witch stopping Corey from having fun and doing all the crazy things he wanted to. And maybe I did.” She frowned. “But he stopped me from doing things I wanted to do, too.”

To her surprise Eduardo laughed. “No. That guy likes you.”

“Nathan?” She shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. He likes me least.”

“No. He doesn’t like me and there’s only one reason for that.”

Nina stood in the middle of the path and stared at him. “Are you suggesting— no.”

“You don’t see that?”

“No.” She screwed up her face, shuddering at the thought.

Eduardo stepped closer. “You don’t value yourself enough.” He took her hand in a firm grip and dug into his pocket. “Perhaps this will help.”

Good grief, the guy had a small box in hand and now he’d opened it. She gaped at the glittering ring inside.

“This is for your aunt?”

“No,” he scoffed. “It’s for you.”

Nina snapped her mouth shut—speaking between clenched teeth. “You’re kidding. You said ‘girlfriend.’ ”

“I thought ‘fiancée’ might enhance the evening.”

“No way.” She peered closer into the box—it had to be said, it was dazzling. “It’s an heirloom?”

“No.”

It was new?

“Don’t worry, it’s on loan from a jeweler.”

Don’t worry? Like it was an everyday occurrence to hand over a solitaire the size of a stuffed olive to a total stranger?

“Oh,” she mused. “Like in Pretty Woman?”

He looked confused. Didn’t the man do romcoms?

“The movie. When Richard Gere borrows jewels for Julia Roberts to wear to the opera,” she explained.

“Oh,” he shrugged. “Okay.”

“I’m not a hooker.” She dragged her eyes from the diamond to glare up at him.

“I know.” His laughter warmed, taking the edge off her completely. “But you’ve worn one before.”

“No, I haven’t,” she admitted ruefully. “Corey didn’t give me an engagement ring. We were traveling and he said it wouldn’t be safe. He didn’t even get a cheap pretend one.”

There’d been no rock for her real engagement, and now her fake nonengagement had an eye-wateringly valuable stone to go with it. She might work in a bling store, but she knew genuine when she saw it. “This is crazy.”

“Mmm,” he agreed. “But fun, no?”

“No.” She fought to remain sensible. “You can’t spring this on your aunt. What if she wants to celebrate?”

“Then we’ll have champagne.”

Nina tried not to laugh. “What are you going to say to your family when it’s over between us and I’m off overseas?”

“That I’m heartbroken and sworn off women for life.”

Now that was interesting. It came so quick off his tongue, maybe it was the truth already. She gazed first at him—and then at the ring. She should be sensible, right? Like always.

But what woman wouldn’t want to at least try such a ring on? And if you were going to act a part, you might as well go all “method,” right?

“I can’t wear this on my left hand,” she said. “It wouldn’t feel right.”

It really was dazzling—she couldn’t take her eyes from it. Though that was more because he’d taken hold of her hand and his thumb was gently stroking the fleshy part of her palm and she didn’t want to look into his eyes because then he’d see exactly how his small touch affected her. Who knew lust could be so instant—and so insane. And so heavenly.

“No problem.” She could hear his smile in his answer. “In Spain, many women wear engagement rings on their right hand.”

“Oh.”

“Many men wear engagement rings, too.”

“Oh? But I don’t have anything—” She felt the pang—and then processed it. Incredulous, she mocked herself—how could she feel guilty for not having a ring for him? For even a second? The man clearly had mind control powers.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Laughing, he held her hand more firmly. “Let’s see if it fits.”

Her heart thundered as he deftly took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. It fitted. Of course it did—he had that kind of luck.

She held out her hand and stared at the simple perfection. “I don’t think I can—”

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“Of course I like it,” she understated. “But isn’t it wrong?”

He lifted her chin so she had to look away from the stunning ring—only to be more stunned by his beauty and his intensely focused eyes. “You’re an honest person.”

She nodded. “I’ve never been able to lie.”

“This is not a lie,” he quietly assured. “Tonight you are my fiancée. I choose you, you choose me. It is simple.”

She smiled weakly. The churning mess of laughter and fun and anticipation inside was so not simple.

“It is very simple,” he reiterated, completely serious. “No one can say otherwise. Tonight you’re mine and I’m yours. In that sense there is no lie. It doesn’t feel wrong to me.”

No. Being here with him, this close to him? It felt very, very right. So for tonight he was hers? She wished. She really wished.

Her last objections fell away. Sensibility fell away. He was so close—he’d been the one to tilt her face to his. But she was the one who did it. She was the one who stood up on tiptoe and lifted her chin that bit higher so their lips touched.

She was his from first contact and from that moment he took control. His hands instantly framed her face, holding her still as his tongue teased her mouth open, quickly deepening the kiss. And she let him—unable to resist, the pleasure he gave was already too great. His thumbs softly caressed her earlobes. She shivered, softening against him. He moved—tucking her into a closer embrace, smoothing a firm hand down the length of her, pushing her tight into his heat as his mouth moved more demandingly against her own. She’d gotten a taste of his lean strength in the train this morning, and yes, as she’d feared, he scalded every cell that came in contact with him. And he did it again now.