Bound As His Business-Deal Bride

His voice was as gentle as the warm breeze floating into the room, but it packed the power of a punch. Did he want her, still? The slide of his gaze over her body gave her the answer, but she wouldn’t admit it.

‘I’m certain of what I want.’

‘Hmm.’ He didn’t press further, merely sipped his own drink, the ice clinking in the glass, and watched her. Blue eyes were supposed to be cold, icy, but his burned hot and ignited her. If she didn’t know it was impossible, she might worry about self-combusting right here in the middle of the room.

‘You look beautiful,’ he said, and strolled towards her, moving in close. He placed his half-finished drink on a side table then reached out his hand and hesitated. She didn’t move away, and he seemed to take that as a kind of permission. He gently grasped one of her blonde curls between his fingers. ‘I love your hair like this.’

His voice had a kind of wistful, contemplative tone to it. She couldn’t deal with that. His anger, his dislike—they were easy things to accept. Not this quiet man, the one who reminded her of the twenty-three-year-old she’d run away with.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, and didn’t think too hard about how she’d left it down on purpose. Gage looked magnificent himself, standing there in a blue striped shirt, open at the neck and showing a tantalising slice of chest. The narrow taper of his waist. The way the trousers framed his strong thighs. Thighs she’d wrapped her legs round only hours ago. Heat rose to her face. An ache bloomed deep inside her.

‘I like the look of my ring on your finger.’

That doused her heat like falling into a pond in winter. The problem was she liked the feel of it on her finger. She loved the sensation that it was his claim of ownership over her. Something about that thought slid way too much warmth and pleasure through her blood, like a good shot of spirits. She’d never wanted to believe anyone owned her, but Gage had. He’d claimed her heart and she hadn’t been able to entrust it to anyone else. Damn him. She looked down at the exquisite gems with as much disdain as she could muster, which was hard when the ring was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

‘Your ring might be on my finger, but you don’t own me. You never did and you never will.’

‘I owned you this afternoon for a little while.’ He held up two fingers and his smile was all devil. ‘Twice, if I recall.’

‘You’re not being a gentleman about this.’

‘I learned my lesson well. You taught me there was little point.’

‘I’d rather forget about this afternoon.’ If she didn’t, she’d just throw herself into his arms and beg him to tear the clothes from her body. They might never make dinner.

‘Whereas I’d like to do it again. Many, many times.’

She stopped breathing. No air would come. The atmosphere was too syrupy and thick. She wanted it again too. Craved it. Would do almost anything to be in his arms again. All she had to do was to walk forward. Kiss him... But no. That would end in disaster.

‘You’re deluded.’ Her voice sounded more like a breathy whisper of desire than a denial.

‘I’m a realist. Sex was never the problem between us. We’re adults. Why not enjoy ourselves?’

Because he’d move on and she’d be wrecked for ever. Except the temptation of it rang loudly. To forget everything but the feel of his lips and hands on her body. Him inside her. To be lost and found all rolled into one. She tugged at the tie around her waist, loosening it a fraction. Everything seemed too tight. Her skin was fit to burst with wanting.

‘I promise we’d enjoy ourselves. It would only be better the next time. And the next.’ Heat radiated from his body. The smell of him, all bespoke cologne and something else. The essence of the man himself. Earthy, raw. She wanted to lean in, rest her head on his hard chest. Give in to this thing between them. It was all she could do not to slide into his arms again and tuck herself in where she felt safe, one of the only places she did. But he wasn’t safe. He was her greatest danger and she’d be a fool to ever forget it.

Still she looked up at him, into his fathomless blue eyes. She couldn’t tell what was ticking away in that clever brain of his. They were so close now and in her heels she could tilt her head up and kiss him. Allow herself to forget for a little while...

But forgetting was dangerous. She’d tried over the past seven years and hadn’t been able to. The contents of her small yellow suitcase were testament to her obsession and her grief. Then the sound of an alert interrupted the moment and Gage broke his gaze from hers. He checked his phone and she stepped away from him, taking a deep breath to regain her equilibrium.

‘The car’s here,’ he said, and began walking to the door as if their conversation about sex had never happened. And perhaps for him it didn’t matter. She was a means to an end. A vehicle for his revenge against her father. To her, it was like her world had tilted on its axis. She was sure people could be grown up about this. That adults could sleep together and not care. Just have fun. Scratch an itch. She wasn’t one of them. She’d never be casual about Gage Caron.

Letting him touch her in the first place had been a mistake.

The night air was warm as they slid into the back of the car, a driver holding the door open for them. She steeled herself for the journey to the restaurant. Tonight was important, playing her part even more so. Success here meant her freedom sooner. Once Gage’s business with Greta Bonitz was confirmed, their engagement would end and she could melt into obscurity. Retire to her flower farm, grow roses and forget Gage Caron existed. But the thought of handing back the engagement ring and trying to pretend she and Gage had never touched, never kissed filled her with torment. Better to remind herself that this was a business arrangement.

‘How close are you to finalising something with the Bonitz companies?’

‘We’ve stalled.’ His voice was tight with the sound of repressed anger as the car began the journey to Nice. ‘Greta is an extremely family-minded woman. Her own marriage lasted forty-seven years before her husband passed away and left her at the helm of the Bonitz group. It’s important for her to work with like-minded people. I caused her some...concern.’

She didn’t ask why and he didn’t seem keen to offer more, simply staring out the window and shutting her down. She did the same for the rest of the drive. Tried to forget that Gage was so close, that she could simply reach out, touch him if she wanted. Take his hand.

None of that was clever or wise, yet she didn’t feel either of those things right now.

The car slid to a halt outside a restaurant. Her heart began to race with a sickening rhythm. Her mouth dried. She wasn’t sure she could do this. There’d been no need to pretend when they’d been alone. Here it was another thing entirely. Her mother and sister’s futures hinged on the success of tonight. In many ways, hers did too.

‘Don’t you think she’ll wonder about the convenience of you suddenly producing me?’