A Very Fake Fiancée. Nancy WarrenЧитать онлайн книгу.

       Eleven

      Gemma watched the elevator doors seal shut, closing her in with Gabriel. After spending the night with him, she had realized that she had to tell him about Sanchia. And she intended to do so...when she found the right time.

      The fake engagement, as outrageous as it was, would at least give her a few days to find a way to break it to him.

      She didn’t know how Gabriel would react, or how the situation would work out. All she knew was that Gabriel deserved to know his daughter, and Sanchia needed to know her father. Given that marriage for her was looking doubtful, Gabriel could be the only father Sanchia would ever have. It would be difficult sharing Sanchia, but she knew that ultimately it would be the best thing for her daughter.

      The doors swished open. Gabriel’s hand cupped her elbow, sending a hot tingle clear up her arm and spinning her back to the night in his apartment.

      As they strolled out of the elevator into an underground parking area, she forced herself to relax. For the next week she would have to get used to this kind of casual touching.

      Gabriel stopped beside another low-slung muscular car and held the passenger-side door for her. “Did you get custody of your daughter back?”

      “Not yet. Getting this job and the apartment sped things up. I should have her back within the week.”

      Gabriel closed her door and, thankful that he hadn’t pushed for more information, Gemma fastened her seat belt.

      As he slid into the driver’s seat and negotiated the tight lanes of the parking building, she made an effort to relax.

      The powerful hum of the car drew her attention as Gabriel accelerated into traffic. Happy to concentrate on anything but personal issues, Gemma examined the interior of what was, she realized, a gorgeous Ferrari. “Somehow I don’t see you as a Ferrari kind of guy.”

      “Tell me, what do you think I should drive?” His gaze briefly connected with hers. His teeth flashed white against his bronzed, clean-shaven jaw, and there they were, back on that dangerous, easy wavelength.

      She tried not to respond to the killer smile, the easy charm, and failed. She stared determinedly ahead, concentrating on traffic. “I guess I got used to seeing you in a Jeep Cherokee, like the one you used to drive in Dolphin Bay.”

      Sunlight flowed into shadow as he pulled into another underground garage. He pulled into a named parking space and turned the powerful engine off. “Maybe that’s why I like them.”

      Feeling suddenly suffocated in the confined space with Gabriel just inches away, his clean male scent keeping her on edge, Gemma busied herself unfastening her seat belt. “Tired of being typecast?”

      He shrugged. “When Dad died, overnight I became head of the family, with five siblings, two of them under twenty.” He shrugged. “Parenthood at age twenty-five wasn’t what I’d planned for my life. Damned if I was going to drive a Volvo or a BMW.”

      Gemma’s fingers curled in on the soft buttery leather of her handbag. Parenthood hadn’t been so great at twenty, either. “It’s a shock if you’re not ready for it.”

      “Were you?”

      The soft question drew her gaze. “By the time I had Sanchia, I was. Now that I’m a mother, I couldn’t imagine life without her.”

      A little annoyed by his probing and the blunt way he was steering the conversation, Gemma asked the one burning question that had kept her awake at night. “Is that why you didn’t want any more than the one night we shared six years ago? You wanted to preserve what freedom you had?”

      “The business and the family were under a lot of pressure. A relationship wasn’t viable.”

      Even though she hated the answer, it was a reason she understood. Gabriel had had his choices taken away. He had shouldered the burden for his family, even though it had meant putting his own dreams and desires on hold.

      Given the sacrifices he’d already had to make, she could understand his distaste for being maneuvered into a marriage not of his choosing.

      More than ever, she was happy that she hadn’t told him she was pregnant, that she’d chosen to take responsibility for the outcome of that night. For Gabriel, having an instant wife and family forced on him would, literally, have been the last straw.

      Gabriel locked the Ferrari then led the way into the bank through a door with a security PIN.

      The chill of air-conditioning was a relief after the humid heat, cooling her skin as they strolled through hushed, carpeted corridors, past offices occupied by beautifully suited executives.

      Gabriel acknowledged staff as they walked past. When she asked how many people worked for the company, the number of personnel he employed took her breath. The bank was the hub of a financial community, and Gabriel was tasked with overseeing it all.

      For the first time she understood the crushing burden taking over all this had been. While she had been struggling with a life-changing pregnancy, Gabriel had been fighting to control all of this.

      He opened a door and allowed her to precede him through to an older part of the building possessed of beautiful mosaic floors and soaring ceilings decorated with intricate plaster moldings. Light flooded through high arched windows, imbuing the rooms with a lavish, Italianate glow, and dark paneled doors opened into large offices fitted out with state-of-the art electronics.

      She stared at the painstakingly preserved gold leaf embellishing an already ornate ceiling rose, a hand-painted fresco depicting saints and sinners. Whimsically, she decided that with his olive skin and the fierce male beauty of his features, Gabriel could have been an angel lifted straight out of the fresco. And in that moment a part of Gabriel that she had never quite understood fell into place. In all the years she had known him, she had never seen him in his true environment, at the leading edge of a dynasty, and at the center of the Messena empire.

      Gabriel didn’t attempt to take her arm again, for which she was grateful, because she was still coming to terms with this new view of him and a whole host of contrary emotions.

      Disappointment and regret, a crazy longing to follow up on the cues he was giving her and claim the ephemeral closeness of a temporary relationship, even if it meant she was going to be badly hurt.

      Gabriel lifted a hand to a burly man dressed in a security uniform who had just stepped out of a side room. Minutes later, they were taken through another security door and shown through to the section of the vault given over to safe-deposit boxes.

      Gemma shivered slightly at the cooler temperature as Gabriel extracted a box, set it on a table and waited for the guard to insert his key. He then produced his own to unlock the box. Inside there were a number of jewelry cases stacked one on another. He chose a case marked with a symbol that Gemma, through her years of working for the Atraeus family, recognized instantly.

      She stiffened. “You can’t give me that. It’s Fabergé.”

      She looked around quickly, to make sure the security guard hadn’t overheard, but he had already retreated to a small glassed-in office.

      “As my fiancée you would be expected to wear significant jewelry. This set belonged to my great-grandmother Eugenie. She was Russian.”

      Gabriel flipped open the box. Inside was a gorgeous set, which included a diamond necklace, earrings, a gorgeous set of hair clips and a ring. The diamonds were large and shimmered with burning flashes of fire under the lights, signaling purity and perfection of cut. She couldn’t imagine the cost of the diamonds, let alone the fact that they were designed and set by Fabergé.

      Gemma shook her head. “No. Absolutely not.”

      “It’s