From Friend to Fake Fiancé

Well, he knew what he wanted to do.

Mac’s hands spread across her bare back, just above where the material draped low. He’d seen a confidence in her this week, almost a blossoming. She’d been so worried about her body, her very lush, sexy body, but he’d proven to her that she was built like every man’s dream.

His dream.

Damn it. He didn’t want to have a dream woman. There was no such thing in his world.

Mac closed his eyes and pushed every doubt and worry aside. For these next few moments, he just wanted to enjoy the feel of Jenna in his arms.

As the song ended, Jenna eased back and glanced up at him with desire burning in her eyes. Without a word, she took his hand and he gladly let her lead him out of the reception, out into the evening and toward their bungalow.

He fished the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Jenna pulled him inside and when the door closed at his back, she turned and caged him in. With her body flush against his and her hands framing his face, she pulled him down and captured his lips.

Never in his life had an aggressive woman turned him on so much. He’d always thrived on control, on being in charge in his work and in the bedroom. But Jenna had fully come out of her shell and damn if he wasn’t proud.

Mac gripped her waist, jerking her hips forcefully against his. As much as he wanted this fast and hard, he craved something different, something more. Jenna deserved more. Hadn’t he said that all along?

While he couldn’t give her a commitment, he could give her tonight. He wanted her to remember this, remember him...forever?

Forever wasn’t a word he used.

Focusing on Jenna, Mac slid his hands up her bare back and reached for the thick straps on her shoulders. As he eased them aside, she frantically pushed her dress down and stepped back. The material pooled around her feet, leaving her in a strapless white bra and killer pair of panties.

Even though Mac intended to take things slow tonight, he wasn’t about to stop her when she reached around and unhooked her bra. Only a few days ago she never would’ve done this in front of him. His heart quickened as she flung the garment aside and worked the lacy white panties down her shapely legs.

Jenna reached up, pulled a few pins from her hair and Mac’s knees nearly buckled when that hair came tumbling down over her bare shoulders. He couldn’t recall a more beautiful sight.

Cocking her head to the side, she quirked a brow. “Your move.”

Damn, she was something else.

“What if I want to stand here and stare at you a bit longer?” he asked.

He heard her breath catch in her throat, watched as her eyes widened and her mouth froze in a perfect O.

Mac pushed off the door and, in one swift move, lifted her in his arms with one hand behind her back and the other beneath her knees.

“You can’t—”

“I can,” he stated, cutting off her protest. “And I am. I want you on the bed, our bed. All night.”

She trembled against him as she laced her fingers behind his neck. She wanted him to make a move? Then this was it. He was spending the next several hours making her his, making this last impression of their time in Bora Bora absolutely unforgettable.

With the door to the private deck open, the sheers billowed in, the moon slashed a glow directly across the bed. And that’s where Mac laid her. He wanted her wearing nothing but moonlight.

He eased back and Jenna started to get up.

“Don’t move,” he commanded. “I’m going to look at you while I undress.”

Slowly, she lay back down, her eyes locked on his. While he made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt, he smiled as her gaze dipped down to his body. Having Jenna’s eyes on him gave him a rush like nothing else. For the first time in, well, ever, he wanted approval from a lover. He wanted approval from Jenna.

Mac gave his shirt a toss to the side of the room and shed his tux pants and boxer briefs. He took a step toward the bed and ran his fingertips over the curve of her knee and up her thigh. The silkiness of her skin beneath his hands—hands that had done terrible things in his world—was a reminder of how different they were. But for now, they weren’t Mac the Mafia Mogul and Jenna the Sweet Florist. They were a man and a woman who enjoyed each other, who wanted the same thing for tonight and didn’t care what tomorrow would bring.

There was no tomorrow as far as he was concerned. The world could end right now and Mac would die a happy man. Then he wouldn’t have to walk away and—

“What do you think about when you’re looking at me like that?” she asked, breaking into thoughts that had no place in his mind.