Her Fantasy Husband (Things to Do Before You Die)

by Nina Croft

  What the hell?

  How long had it been? Too long, and his instincts took over, taking control of the kiss.

  He turned her so she was pressed up against the door, his hardening erection nudging against her softness. She went still, raised her head. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open, and he lowered his and thrust his tongue inside. She tasted sharp and spicy, with a hint of honeyed sweetness. She was still for a second, and then she was kissing him back, her tongue pushing against his, her hands fisting in the hair at his nape.

  Not why I’m here.

  A little voice nagged at his brain saying something was wrong with this scenario. But then she pressed even closer so her firm—and amazingly full—breasts flattened against him, and his dick got even harder, draining the last of the blood from his brain and shutting down the annoying nagging.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t cut out the noise from behind him. He wanted to ignore it. His body liked where it was and what it was doing, and he didn’t want to stop. Then someone cleared their throat for a second time, and he went still. He removed his tongue from where it had no right to be—but hell, she’d accosted him—and leaned away a little so he could look down into her face.

  Encountering her dazed expression, he gave her a little jiggle. She shook her head. Her eyes were huge, wide open, and they darted from his face to beyond his left shoulder and filled with alarm. Her attention came back to him, and a look of desperation, then pleading, filled her face.

  “Josh.” Her voice was low, breathy, and his dick twitched. “I’d like to introduce you to my grandmother.”

  Grandmother?

  He swallowed.

  What the fuck?

  His turn to shake his head. The morning had taken on a surreal quality. But at least his dick was wilting in his pants.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  He still had her pinned against the door, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands at his shoulders. He tried to pull away, but her fingers tightened, and he had to tug them free before placing her on the floor. She gazed up at him pleadingly.

  “Please.” She mouthed the word, presumably so her “grandmother” wouldn’t hear.

  Obviously she wanted something from him. But what? He’d play along for now, if only as a thank-you for the hottest kiss he could ever remember. He gave a brief nod, and she sagged, then stiffened her spine and stood up straight.

  When she’d hurled herself toward him, she’d appeared…bigger. She was actually more than a foot shorter than him in her bare feet. Bare feet? He shook his head again.

  She had to tilt her head to look up at him. “Josh,” she said, her voice husky as though she’d just had the breath kissed out of her. “You’re back. I thought you’d be away much longer.”

  “I…” He was used to thinking on his feet, but his brain felt like mush. “…missed you too much?”

  She gave him a grateful smile. “Aw, you’re so sweet.” She went up on tiptoe and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Well, come meet my grandmother. She’s flown in from New York and was saying how she hoped to meet you this time.”

  He supposed he had to turn around sometime. This was so fucking awkward. He gave a quick glance down his body. At least his erection had subsided sufficiently to not be a total embarrassment. He turned slowly.

  A woman stood on the other side of the office—every well-groomed inch of her screaming “rich and elitist.” He disliked her on sight. She was returning his perusal with a similar lack of enthusiasm.

  He gave what he hoped was a charming smile, though charm had never been one of his strong points. “Sorry about the kiss, ma’am, but it’s been awhile.”

  She pursed her lips. “All of one day, I understand.”

  Shit. “It felt like much longer.”

  She looked down the length of his body, one eyebrow rising slightly. Did she hesitate at his crotch, or was he just feeling sensitive? He’d dressed casually for the meeting, mainly because he usually dressed casual and could see no reason to change the habits of a lifetime. But his faded jeans and black T-shirt clearly weren’t impressing her.

  She sniffed. “Well, Alexia, it’s clear why you married him.”

  Why didn’t he think she meant that as a compliment?

  “Thanks,” his “wife” said from beside him. “Now, I’m sure Josh just popped in to say hi, and he has important things to do.” She rested a small hand on his arm and gave a tiny tug. She was trying to throw him out. But he had things to say, and he wasn’t leaving until he’d said them.

  He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, felt her small body stiffen at his side. “I can stay awhile, babe. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  She winced at the endearment. “I have a meeting in a little while. We can talk tonight.”

  “That’s okay, honey, what I have to say will only take a little while.”

  She gritted her teeth and opened her mouth to speak, but she was beaten to it by her grandmother.

  “Mr. Slater—”

  “Call me Josh.”

  “Josh. And I’m Valerie. You must accompany Alexia when she joins us for dinner tonight. Meet the family at long last.”

  Lexi spoke quickly. “Oh, I don’t think—

  “Of course, I’d love to,” he said and then had no clue why, except maybe to wind her up. After all, she’d kissed him and now she couldn’t get rid of him fast enough.

  “Wonderful.” The older woman turned to Lexi. “Isn’t that wonderful, Alexia?”

  She pasted on a bright smile. “Absolutely fabulous, Grandmamma.”

  “I’ll look forward to it,” he said. “I don’t know why we haven’t met before.”

  “I have a few ideas,” her grandmother replied. “Now, I must be off. But I’ll see you both this evening. And why don’t you see if you can persuade Alexia into a dress, Josh.”

  “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  They stood in silence as she left the room, the door closing softly behind her. Josh dropped his arm from around Lexi and stepped back. She didn’t move and didn’t speak. He wandered away, then turned so he could study her.

  The girl he remembered from their one brief meeting in the registry office was still there. At the time, he’d not really paid attention to her. It had been obvious that they had nothing in common. She was just a rich kid, a business proposition, not his type at all—he liked tall, leggy blondes. She still wasn’t his type, but she had a lush little body, all soft curves shown off in faded jeans that clung to the swell of her hips, and a white T-shirt stretched over full breasts, her nipples poking at the material.

  Had she been as aroused by that kiss as him? Or had it all been purely for show?

  He forced his gaze upward. She had a mop of unruly red corkscrew curls, which she was continuously pushing behind her ears. She wore no makeup, but her skin was clear, except for the freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were huge and her most startling feature—golden, with flecks of brown, and fringed by thick, curly lashes.

  He’d thought them black but this close he could see they were dark red like her hair. Her mouth was…perfect. Small and full, and he could remember the taste. He had no fucking right to be thinking about her mouth. Or how sweet she had tasted. He didn’t do sweet.

  Anyway, it had all been pretense for her grandmother’s benefit. The older woman obviously believed them to be married for real. He hoped that wasn’t going to be a problem. He’d never given much thought to why his “wife” had needed to marry—it hadn’t been any of his business. It still wasn’t.

  He was here for one thing: to get his annulment.

  She still hadn’t spoken, but he could see her thinking, working out what she would say, so he strolled around the room, giving her some time, stopping at her extremely tidy desk. The only thing on the spotless surface was a photograph. His eyes slid past it and then back. He reached out slowly and picked it up. If he wa
sn’t mistaken, that was him on a beach he was pretty sure he’d never been to in his life.

  He turned and waved it in her direction. When she didn’t respond, he stepped closer, snapped his fingers under her nose, and she jumped.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I was thinking. Or rather, I was trying not to think, but…” She looked at the photo in his hand and gave a tiny shrug. “Our fourth wedding anniversary.”

  “Really? Where did we go?”

  “You took me to the Seychelles. We had a wonderful time.”

  “I’m glad,” he said drily.

  “Look, Mr. Slater…”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Josh. I really wish you hadn’t said you’d come to dinner tonight.”

  He shrugged. “It’s no big deal. When I don’t arrive, you can say something came up.”

  She shook her head. “Oh, no. You have to come now, or she’ll never let it drop. She’s tenacious. She’ll hunt you down and pry the truth from your bleeding and broken body.”

  “I think you’re exaggerating.”

  “You don’t know Grandmamma. God, I need a drink.” She batted those long lashes at him, gave him another of those pleading looks. “Please say you’ll come to dinner.” Her mouth was pink and full, but her skin was pale, and the hand she used to tuck a stray curl behind her ear was shaking slightly. “Honestly, it will only be this once. After all, I’ve managed to avoid you meeting my family for five years. This was a combination of bad timing. My grandmother never comes to London, and you…” She paused and looked at him, a little line forming between her brows. “Why are you here, anyway?”

  Chapter Two

  Lexi licked her lips, the taste of him still on her tongue.

  Oh God, she’d kissed him. How many times had she fantasized about kissing him? And he’d kissed her back. She didn’t have much experience—except in her fantasies—but that had been clear.

  And oh my God, his penis had been hard and huge and pressed up against her. Her first ever real-life penis. With her grandmother standing right behind them.

  That was totally wrong.

  He was so big. Not only tall, though he was well over six feet, but broad at the shoulders, his black T-shirt stretched tight over the swell of muscles. His dark blond hair was cut short, and his eyes were the bluest she had ever seen. He looked rough and tough and sort of oozed an air of power and menace.

  A shiver ran through her. Yes, she was being a little melodramatic, but just…wow.

  He returned her scrutiny, his face serious. “Why don’t we get out of here? Go get that drink you need? And then we can talk.”

  What could they possibly have to talk about? Had he come for more money? After all, what did she really know about him? Except her Uncle Jamie—who wasn’t really her uncle but her godfather and her father’s best friend—had vouched for him. He’d been Josh’s commanding officer when he’d been in the Special Air Services. He’d sworn Josh was an honorable man.

  “Well?” he prompted.

  He was a bit bossy. She hated bossy. It was just as well he wasn’t her husband for real, or she’d have to sort that out, and she was guessing Joshua Slater was a little set in his ways. She gave a quick nod. “Okay. Let me get my bag.”

  “And shoes would be good.”

  She followed his gaze and encountered her bare toes. How to make a good first impression…not. But why should she worry? He’d say what he had to say—and she couldn’t begin to guess what that was—and then he’d no doubt disappear out of her life again. He made a fabulous fantasy husband, but she was certain he’d be far less accommodating in real life. There was something intractable about the way he held his mouth in a stern line, and he didn’t look as though he laughed much. And she liked to laugh. A lot.

  She had to crawl under her desk to find her sandals. When she came up, he was waiting by the door, one shoulder leaning against the wall. His arms were folded across his chest, his foot tapping on the floor.

  She slipped her sandals onto her feet—the four-inch heels doing almost nothing to decrease the height discrepancy between them—then stepped past him and opened the door. Sadie was seated at her desk. She glanced up and grinned as Lexi ushered him out and then followed him to the outer door. At the last moment, she came back, leaned close to Sadie, eyeing her assistant suspiciously. “How did you know who he was?”

  Sadie shrugged nonchalantly. “I was cleaning out your desk one day and found the photos.”

  Ha. An unlikely story. Snooping, more like. “If you didn’t have a cat, you’d be fired.”

  She stalked to the doorway where Josh stood holding the door open, foot once again tapping.

  Jeez, what’s the rush? This guy needed to seriously de-stress.

  She led the way out and along the street, casting him surreptitious glances as she walked. He’d aged some since the wedding, the fine lines around his eyes a little deeper, and she had a sudden urge to soothe them away. She knew he was twenty-eight, but he looked older.

  Maybe she could ask him for some current photos while he was here, to keep her going with the anniversary pictures for the next few years. She also noticed something else, and she touched his arm lightly.

  He peered down, a deep furrow between his brows—he obviously frowned way too much. “What?”

  God, he sounded grumpy. “You’re limping. Are you okay? Did I hurt you when I jumped you back there? Sorry about that, but I couldn’t risk you giving anything away in front of my grandmother.”

  “No problem. And I’m fine.” Then he gave a small shrug. “I broke my leg about six weeks ago. It’s healing well, only aches a little if I put too much stress on it.”

  “Like me leaping at you?”

  “You weigh nothing. I was just…surprised.”

  “I’ll bet,” she muttered and came to a halt, waving a hand at the pub. “My local.” She pushed open the door and entered the dim interior, Josh close behind her.

  The bartender grinned when he saw her. “Hi, Lexi. The usual?”

  “Hi, Steve.” Her usual at this time of year was a large glass of icy cold white wine, but today called for something stronger. “And no thanks. Can I have a scotch? A double—no ice.”

  “Trouble?” he asked, his gaze shifting to Josh beside her.

  “My grandmother is visiting.” She’d once had a long moan to Steve about her family when her annual trip to New York was due.

  “I’ll have the same,” Josh said. “Do you come here a lot?” he asked as they took the drinks to one of the small booths that lined the back wall. He sounded a little judgmental. The jerk. Yes, she came here a lot, and it was none of his business. “And is that guy a friend or more?”

  And now he was concerned about who she spent her free time with? That kiss must have rattled his brain if he thought he had any say in how she lived her life.

  “Of course he’s just a friend. What else would he be?” Though Steve had asked her out on more than one occasion, Lexi didn’t date. She was married in the eyes of the world, and she didn’t want any stories getting back to her family and raising questions.

  As she slipped onto the padded bench, Josh took the seat opposite. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a gulp, felt the warmth flow down her throat into her belly. She put the glass down and licked scotch from her lips, glanced up to find Josh watching her, his expression intense. A shiver ran through her. He made her feel…actually, she didn’t know how he made her feel, but certainly “uncomfortable” came into it somewhere.

  Liar! Turned on more like. Hot and achy and… Not now, Lexi.

  But what did she expect? She’d made herself come countless times, and this man had always been the inspiration for her fantasies. She squirmed on the leather seat at the thought. It seemed weird being with him in reality—remembering all those things he’d done to her, if only in her dreams.

  Though the reality of that kiss had been way hotter than anything she’d imagined.

  Don’t go there, Lexi. Sh
e shook her head to dispel the memory.

  “How did you break your leg?” she asked, to take her mind off the kiss.

  “The cruise ship I was on sank. I was injured getting off.”

  “Wow. You were on a cruise?” He didn’t seem the type. “Do you have any photos?” Perhaps they could go on a cruise for their fifth wedding anniversary.

  “I was working. And no, I did not take any photos.”

  “You were working? On a cruise ship? Were you part of the crew?” Perhaps he had one of those white uniforms they wore, with epaulettes and—

  “I was working security.”

  “Oh.” That fitted in with him being in the army. Maybe that was all he could get afterward. She’d never considered what he did. She’d known he’d been injured shortly before the wedding—her godfather had told her that much. He’d been shot on tour in Afghanistan. He seemed awfully accident prone. “So did someone sink it on purpose?”

  “Probably not.”

  He wasn’t very talkative. Which was no doubt for the best. Except he’d been the one to suggest they come here “to talk.”

  She sighed and took a sip of scotch. Josh hadn’t touched his drink. Time to move this on, let him say what he thought he had to say, then they could get back to their regular non-existent relationship. Well, after they’d gotten through dinner with the family tonight.

  “So what do you need to talk about?”

  “I want an annulment.”

  For a second, the words didn’t make sense. Then she slowly put her glass down and stared at him. “What?”

  “An annulment. I want to end our fake marriage.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I can. I contacted a lawyer. We just need to file paperwork that the marriage was never consummated, and it will be done.” He sat back, arms folded across his chest.

  Was he after more money? Was that what this was about? Maybe he’d lost his job when that ship went down. Now he was penniless and had come to fill his bank account.

  Did anyone want her for anything other than her money?

  “Mr. Slater, if you think I’m going to pay you anything else for a job you were already paid a considerable amount of money to do, then you are very mistaken. I’m sure my Uncle Jamie made it very clear that the marriage had to stay in place until my twenty-fourth birthday.”