Bargain in Bronze

“Hold my hand. Look like you—” she broke off, suddenly embarrassed.

“Like I—?” Now one corner of his mouth quirked.

“Want me. Not that you do, of course,” she said hurriedly, her skin starting to sizzle with mortification. “But could you just look like it?”

Right now, he looked stunned. “Your fiancé didn’t want you?”

“He didn’t want to show it.” They’d been together so long anyway—from first-year university right through their degrees and really, it was a convenience thing—for him, anyway. And then there was the fact he’d been getting his needs met elsewhere all the way along—because apparently she didn’t do it well enough for him.

Silence hung between them for too long.

“I don’t mean anything tacky,” Nina finally added, her moment of confidence shot. “We wouldn’t kiss or anything. I just don’t want to be ignored.” Yeah, now she was dying inside.

He moved around the counter, his eyes never leaving hers, as he came close enough for her to feel his breath on her skin. “I will look at you and they will all know how desperate I am to get you alone. That I cannot wait to have you naked in my arms. That there is no one else in the world for me and nothing more important to me than you. That I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

Even though she knew he was acting up a part, her breath hissed out between her teeth. “Okay, that would work.”

“I’ll be your strong, silent lover,” he promised. “I won’t let you down.”

She was instantly convinced. But she was going to have to remember that this was pretense. A couple of white lies for one night—for fun and for pride. To make two difficult situations easier. No harm could come of it, right?

“What’s the dress code?” she asked faintly.

“Just that, a dress.” His glance skittered down to her legs. He was definitely a leg man. Her thighs quivered and her blood pulsed around her body far too quickly.

“Where’s the pub you’re meeting these people?” he asked.

“You’ll meet me there?” She swallowed. She wished they could go there together.

He nodded. “I’m done at the wharf. I can meet you there whenever you want.”

“You’ve finished work?”

“I’ll do more from home.”

So he wasn’t heading into one of those high-rise banking headquarters now for the next few hours? She thought about arranging to meet him early, but she didn’t want them to be the first ones there. Last to arrive, first to leave was her plan. “Baker Street?”

“Yes.” He confirmed that he lived in one of those exclusive, cost-a-gazillion apartments in the grand, old stone buildings.

Nothing like the three-to-a-room shoebox she shared with an assortment of Australians, New Zealanders, and South Africans—several streets back from the Tube station.

“Tell me the time and I’ll be there,” he said. “We’ll stay for a while and show them how happy you are and then we’ll go to dinner and show my aunt how settled I am. And we’ll enjoy ourselves far more than we thought we could. It’ll be a laugh.” He shot her a sideways look. “You can quote more Shakespeare to me.”

Nina smiled and obliged then and there. “So you’re not worried ‘that truth will out’?”

…

Eduardo laughed as he shook his head. This would have to be the craziest thing he’d done in years—as it clearly was for her, too. She was interested, yes. Trying not to be, yes. Wary, yes. But she was also intrigued. And though she might work in a store filled with jewels of every color, none sparkled the way she did. Her blue eyes were beautiful, almost navy, and filled with life and emotion. He recalled her smile on the street as she walked, her laughter in the train as she’d joined in with the dancers, her radiance as she’d quoted saucy Shakespeare. He wanted a taste of that vitality.

What kind of imbecile was her ex to not want her? It was no lie at all for Eduardo to look at her with raw desire and let the world see. He might not be able to offer her anything more, but that was one thing he could do. The irony was, she didn’t believe it. He could see it in her eyes. The ex had clearly been a jerk.

“Let’s shake on it.” He held out his hand. She cautiously put hers in his—her skin cool, her grip firm. The pleasure at finally touching her tightened his gut and a hit of electricity flashed from her fingers into him. She tried to pull away. Too soon. He tightened his hold, wanting to prolong the contact, to draw her so much closer—wanting to peel away that sheer white blouse to her camisole and the soft secrets beneath. Yeah, lust had him in thrall.

“One last thing,” he murmured, his voice raspier than hers had been before. “What is your name?”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t realized they hadn’t shared that info? He chuckled. So did she.

“Nina Breslin,” she eventually answered, her voice sounding bedroom husky again.

His muscles clenched involuntarily and he quickly relaxed so he wouldn’t crush her fingers.

“I’m Eduardo Ruiz.” Reluctantly, he released her. “I’ll see you tonight.”

As he walked out of her store, the weight in his chest eased. He expected the call any moment about Caspar. He had two other patients not far from the same place, and while it was a given in his job, this time it seemed worse.

He couldn’t be bothered with his family putting on the subtle pressure that burdened him more than any loud argument. All he wanted was a night of lightness. Of heat. Of passion. An easy escape.

He wanted her.

He walked through the mall, heading toward the trains—passing clothing stores, chocolate, more jewelry. Exclusive, expensive jewelry in another class to the shiny stuff she sold but didn’t wear. He veered to look in the window of one such store. He gazed at the stunning simplicity of the stone on display. It gleamed like it was lit from within. It tempted—calling him closer. It made him forget sanity.

It was just like her.

Chapter Three

Of course it was too good to be true. As if she’d meet a gorgeous guy on a train and he’d offer to be her Prince Charming for the night so she could hold her head high around her slimeball ex-fiancé’s friends. As if the most genetically blessed man in the world would take a second look at her—and look like he wickedly wanted what he saw.

It was the stuff of fiction. She’d been at the pub twenty-five minutes already and was so glad she hadn’t been a total idiot and bragged about him. Maybe deep inside she’d known he wouldn’t show. Her bravado was greater than ever. But her smile felt fixed—it must be so obviously fake. It was worse than it would have been if she hadn’t met him this morning.

Good thing she’d gone into the cosmetics counter at the pharmacy at the wharf and had her make-up done before leaving. Not war paint, but pure defense. She felt queasy inside, her palms were cold and clammy—without the lipstick and rouge, she’d be colorless. Damn.

She lifted her chin, trying to stand tall and proud. Because she didn’t want to be this weak, this caring of what others thought. No more. She was made of tougher stuff.

But she did regret the little black dress—two steps too flashy. Not pub attire, but posh dinner. While it didn’t show cleavage, it was short and dressy and she had super high heels to go with it. She might as well have put a neon sign above her head flashing “desperate single woman.” Her explanation that she had another date after drinks rang false even to her own ears. But it was crazy to care so much about what they thought. She turned away from the door so the last bit of pathetic hope in her wouldn’t have her glancing over there all the time in case he’d turn up.

He wasn’t going to.

“So when do you go?” Nathan—Corey’s best friend—asked her.

“Next week,” she said brightly, wishing it was tomorrow. “I’m really looking forward to it.” And she was—that traveler anonymity would bring freedom from friends and family and past hurts.

“You don’t want to be here for the Games?”

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“No,” she said breezily, so used to answering that question. Truth was, her room at the flat was booked already, so even if she wanted to stay to see some sport, she had no place to sleep. Of course, there was part of her that would like to be in London to experience the hype and hilarity. But with all these people from Canada coming over—all these people she’d thought were friends but weren’t? She didn’t want to bother with more than this brief pub catch-up. She wanted to escape.

“And you’re traveling alone?” Nathan asked.

She nodded.

“Only for some of the time.” An accented voice answered behind her and a hand spread wide on her stomach, pulling her back against a body of burning granite.