by Paula Roe
She gave him an irritated look then turned to James. “We’ve got nothing to discuss, James. End of story.”
James scowled, his eyes going from Marco back to her. “Whatever you might think, Kat, I’d like to smooth out our differences. Start a clean slate.”
A pause. Then, “Do you have a hearing problem?” Marco asked coolly.
“Butt out, Marco,” James snapped. “This is between me and my wife.”
“Ex-wife. She’s my fiancée now. Oh, please, be my guest,” he murmured as the other man clenched his fists.
“Fiancée? So you guys are getting married?” James’s eyes widened, his gaze darting from Marco to her. “Huh. Guess that confirms things, then.” As Marco bristled, he pulled himself up to his full six foot five and glared back.
Oh, for heaven’s sake. It was like watching two dogs snarl and growl over a bone.
“No, we’re not.” She couldn’t believe Marco had said the F word.
With a snort she moved out of Marco’s embrace. “Okay, you need to leave now, James.”
James sighed. “Look—” he stuck his hands on his hips “—I didn’t want to do this here, but you leave me no choice. I’ve been asked to write my biography, a kind of inspirational, overcoming-the-odds thing. And I can’t do it without mentioning you.”
She sucked in a breath. “No.”
James eyed Marco then came back to her. “Like it or not, Kat, you were a part of my life. I’d like your approval on the chapter, but I can still publish it without your consent.”
“James...” She took a deep breath, waiting for her brain to catch up. She could sue him, but that would take money and time, plus attract more attention to the book than it was worth. Or...
“If I don’t like what I read, can I change it?”
“It depends what it is. But sure.” He nodded. “I’m open to amendments.”
That didn’t mean a thing, but it was all he was offering. With a short nod, she said, “Fine. Email me the chapter when you have it.”
James nodded and his mouth tweaked, a hint of what she used to think was the most devastating smile in the French soccer league.
She watched him leave in silence, her mind still halfway in the past. But at the last minute, as he was walking by the video tripod that had been filming the night, he abruptly turned.
“Congratulations on getting engaged,” he called loudly, causing a few conversations to halt. “I knew that press release was a smoke screen—very clever. I hope you’ll be happy. For what it’s worth, I could totally see it coming.”
A dozen people in earshot quickly turned to first James, then to Marco and Kat, and all of a sudden a chorus of cheery woo-hoos erupted.
No. Oh, no.
Kat’s stomach bottomed out yet she refused to let it show. She simply shook her head at the closest group of well-wishers. “We’re not... No, we haven’t...”
Too late. The damage was done.
Embarrassment leached into a low, slow burn, one that tightened her back, then her neck. She gritted her teeth, smilingly denied everything and stalked through the crowd, straight for the doors leading outside.
A handful of curses ran through her mind as she went. Damn James. Grace’s exclusive was supposed to set everything straight, but now he’d gone and ruined it. Which meant they’d have to bring the interview forward.
Just as she dug out her phone and was about to reach the balcony doors, Marco grabbed her arm. “Kat. Stop.”
“Marco...” She was barely holding it together, and his concern only tipped the scales.
She turned slowly to him with a dark frown. “Your fiancée?”
Marco shrugged, eyeing the people passing them by and giving them a casual nod. “I thought he needed a little encouragement to leave.”
“With a lie?”
Marco studied her for a heartbeat. Then he said, “What upsets you more—the unwanted attention or me staking a claim?”
“You’ve no right to claim anything.”
“Not even when you’re having our baby?” he murmured.
Kat put a hand to the wall for support. Now that she was alone with Marco, she could no longer hold the memories at bay. They all came rushing back, making her skin heat and her head spin with remembrance. His lips and what they’d done to her. His warm breath, teasing her skin. And his wonderful hands, hands he now shoved aggressively in his pants pockets.
“Do you have any idea what this is going to do?” she said tightly. “How people are going to—”
“Going to what? Gossip?” A hand dived into his hair. “Christ, Kat, I’m really sick of hearing about it. I’m trying to help but you keep saying no. Stop complaining when you know you could fix it with one simple yes.”
“Marco, this, on top of everything else...I just can’t deal—”
“I know that.” He leaned in, his face tight with anger. “I’m only guessing how things are for you because you haven’t called, haven’t wanted to discuss anything. It’s like trying to get information from a goalpost.”
She blinked, frowning. “Marco, I...”
“Look, this isn’t the right place to talk,” he said, curling his fingers around her wrist. “Let’s go.”
The automatic refusal was there, but she quickly swallowed it, giving him a brief nod. And when he turned and began to lead her firmly through the crowd, her breath quickened in anticipation.
This was it. They’d finally put it all out there. It would either be the end of their relationship or the beginning of one.
God, she was praying for the latter. Because the former would be like cutting a vital piece of her heart out.
There was no way she could do that. Ever.
Eleven
They stood in the middle of her hotel room barely ten minutes later, and as Kat watched him work his tie loose and slowly peel it off, everything just flew out of her mind.
It was incredible how her heart reacted to his presence. Her body just went all tingly, her blood heating as her eyes hungrily took in his broad frame, his strong cheekbones, his hair.
Everything.
When his gaze met hers, his expression was deadly serious. Not good.
He gestured. “You first.”
She swallowed thickly. Could she honestly lay everything out in the open, finally? How on earth was she supposed to do that? Her nerves shook at the very thought.
And yet what was her alternative? Live with this painful ache, always wondering if things would have worked if she’d just had more courage to voice her feelings?
She barely had time to sort through her thoughts before he was right there, next to her, his expression unreadable.
She shoved her clutch onto the table and then threaded her fingers together, trepidation suddenly engulfing her. And all of a sudden she was left just staring at him, the words stuck in her throat. And that made her incredibly, annoyingly nervous.
“I’m waiting.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Okay.” He crossed his arms and studied her, which made it that much worse.
“Stop looking at me!”
His eyes suddenly creased. “Sorry. Where would you like me to look?”
“Just... I don’t know. Anywhere. The view.” She waved to the window displaying a magnificent night panorama of Sydney Harbour. “You’re making me nervous.”
“That is not my intent, chérie.”
She sighed. “I know. Look, there are a lot of things I have to get through and I wanted to tell you face-to-face, so you might want to take a seat, okay?”
“Is it the baby? Is everything all right?”
“Yes, it’s fine. Everything is fine there.” S
he took a deep breath, one that shook on the exhalation. “I was just reading about your contract negotiations.”
He shrugged. “You know how the press likes to beat things up.”
“So you’re not going to move back to France, then?”
“It’s one of many options on the table right now,” he said cautiously.
“Right.”
She let the silence fall, chewing on the inside of her lip as she tried to gather the right words.
He crossed his arms with a frown. “Kat, this isn’t you, always second-guessing your words. Just come out and say it.”
He was right. She’d handled more than her fair share of difficult situations. She could do this now. However she’d planned to do this, whatever preparations she’d made, this was it. She had to tell him.
And yet...her determination just seemed to crumble, making everything ache from the gaping hole it left. She may want to, so very badly. But it wouldn’t be right. Or fair. Not when she was desperately in love with him but he just saw her as his best friend and marriage as a way to handle her PR nightmare.
She didn’t want to marry him when he wasn’t in love with her. That wasn’t selfish, right? It was noble. It was good. It meant she cared for him way too much to see him unhappy.
Even if it killed her inside.
* * *
God, she was killing him! Marco’s control had gone from torn to shredded in the space of a few moments as he sat there, waiting for her to say something, until he’d finally had enough.
“Kat.” When he got abruptly to his feet, her surprised gaze followed him, and for another few seconds he chewed over the words, discarding a dozen imperfect ones, until he finally came up with everything he needed to say. “I love you.”
She stilled, eyes wide, expression frozen for one horrible second. Then she shot out a soft breath and her small smile ripped at his heart. “I love you, too.”
“No,” he repeated, dragging in a breath. Suck it up and just finish it already. “No, I really love you.”
“And I—”
“Kat, you are not getting it.” He shook his head, heart thudding. “I am in love with you. I want to marry you, but not because of some press stunt, or out of any moral obligation. I want to marry you because I am desperately and hopelessly in love with you. I want to be with you, but only if you want that, too.”
Shock didn’t begin to describe the look on her face. She just stood there, silent and gaping, and for one horrible moment every terrible rejection he’d ever faced came bubbling up to the surface.
Her soft groan, the twisted expression, cut him swift and deep, but he could do nothing but stand there, waiting with his heart laid bare, waiting for her to let him down gently.
“I...” She floundered, frowning, then took a ragged breath.
“Kat...” he said, hating the way his voice came out all husky. “Say something. Anything.”
Her eyes closed briefly, then opened again, and in that gaze he saw the truth. “These last few months—hell, these last few weeks—have been crazy for me. A baby, a pregnancy, this whole adoption thing. My head’s been in ten different places, and I’m sick of it. Nothing is perfect, Marco, and I’ve just realized it doesn’t have to be.”
He remained silent, giving her nothing until she finished saying what she needed to say. He didn’t have long to wait.
“It’s taken all of this to make me see what is truly important,” she said slowly, as if it was a revelation to herself, too. And when she reached out and took his hand, he offered no resistance, just let her link her fingers through his, the intimate glide of skin on skin sending his heart racing.
“And that’s you. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wishing I’d had enough courage to tell you how I really feel, and I don’t want to spend another day without being with you, talking with you. Loving you. If that means I only get you six months of every year, then, by God, I want those six months to count.”
He closed his eyes as if her words had somehow cut, and Kat held her breath, waiting, waiting as the seconds ticked over.
“Dieu.”
When he finally opened his eyes, the expression there had her going weak at the knees.
And suddenly, he was dragging her in for a kiss, a deep, hungry kiss full of emotion and feeling and heat. She squeaked in surprise then opened up for him, her arms going around his neck.
“Kat,” he finally murmured against her mouth, hands slowly stroking her hair. “God, do you know how much I missed you these last few weeks?” Then he groaned, capturing her mouth for another kiss, and she was sure she was going to die from the joy of it all.
When he finally broke away, the look on his face was unmistakable. “Je t’adore, chérie.” He cupped her cheek in his hand, placing his mouth softly on the corner of hers. “I’ve loved you for such a long time, but you’ve been so damn stubborn and I—” His breath caught in a growl and he kissed her again, a little more desperate, a little more hungry.
She whimpered against his mouth, her body pressed hard against his, every single inch of her skin tingling with awareness.
He loved her. How was that even possible? After everything she’d been through, how on earth had she managed to score this amazing, wonderful guy—her best friend—as her lover, as well?
“Come here.”
She led him into her bedroom then closed the door, her entire body beating out a loud pulse as her blood rushed to every corner. With a trembling hand she shoved her fingers under his shirt and swept the outline of his ribs. After she lifted his shirt, she followed with her lips, kissing softly.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, but it only succeeded in filling her lungs with his unique scent. “You smell amazing.”
His chuckle did crazy things to her gut. “Thanks. You don’t smell so bad yourself.”
She grinned against his skin, her lips grazing across his hip, her hand curling around the other. “Is that a murmur of appreciation I hear?”
“Yeah.” His guttural response made her flush and smile. “Kat...”
“Yes?”
“Stop talking.”
When she began to mouth her way slowly across to his navel, he groaned and relaxed back on the couch, her kisses flaming a path while she stroked his hip and he muttered in Italian. He had the most perfect voice. Perfect hands. Perfect everything.
“You’re perfect,” she muttered against his skin.
“No...” he ground out.
“Yes,” she countered. “And this part, right here—” her hand skimmed over the defined muscular V-line flanking his hips, the Adonis belt “—is such a temptation.”
“Yeah?” His breath came out in a rush as she continued to stroke.
“Yes. Just above your waistband. Drives me crazy every time.”
“How crazy?”
“Like this.” Quickly she unsnapped his jeans and placed her mouth on the spot, softly trailing her lips over the muscle, before heading back to the center, tracing the thin line of hair downward.
His sharp breath as she finally eased his jeans down fueled her already stoked fire. He raised his hips a little to help, and when she’d tossed his pants aside, she couldn’t help but swallow thickly at the sight of him lying there.
Wanting her.
“Kat...” It was only one word, yet the raw vulnerability behind it made her heart contract.
She slid her hands up along his corde
d thighs, gripping his hips, and then took him in her mouth with firm command. When his hips bucked, she placed a steady hand on his stomach.
“Shh.” She continued to pleasure him, reveling in the heady power and the wonderful hard-velvet feeling of having him in her mouth.
And when she felt his body finally tense, she stopped.
His gasp and obscene curse echoed loudly. “Kat? What the hell?”
She slid up, her naked body gliding against him, and she stopped to nibble on his bottom lip briefly before straddling him.
“Impatient,” she muttered against his mouth.
“Tease.”
“No way.” Eyes locked on his, she positioned her hips then swiftly eased down on him with a sharp breath.
They moved together in perfect time, two people in love, experiencing joy in each other, reveling in the pure physical moment. And when everything just became too much, her emotions so overwhelming she couldn’t take any more, her release crashed in a wave of pure ecstasy, leaving her trembling and spent. With a soft groan, Marco followed her, his arms wrapped tight, holding her in place as their damp bodies slid together as one.
The minutes ticked by, the thick air punctuated by their ragged breathing. Kat lay there, soaking up his heat, a thousand words on the tip of her tongue but reluctant to say a thing because she didn’t want to shatter this most perfect moment.
But finally, as their bodies cooled and their heartbeats returned to normal, Marco glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and said, “Maybe we should be getting back to the ceremony...”
Kat followed his gaze. “I guess.”
He chuckled. “So enthusiastic.”
“Well, given the choice, I know where I’d rather be.”
“I know how you feel.”
They remained perfectly still, as the moment stretched.
“Marco...” Kat finally said. “I’m quitting my job.”
A pause. “Really?”
She nodded, glancing up at him. “I’m going to start up a charity. Not sure what, yet. I’ll think about it while I’m busy with being pregnant.” She smiled faintly.
