I turn around. Her eyes focused on the floor.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Cancer. He’s dying.” I squeeze her hand. “That’s why I’m engaged to Esther. It is his last wish to see me settled down before…”
This wasn’t how I envisioned this evening going.
I brace myself for the barrage of follow-up questions, and the pity so many give when they learn of my father’s condition.
She doesn’t speak, wraps her arms around me, and holds me tight. I tense at first but sink into her embrace as she caresses my back. No judgment or questions.
I hadn’t wanted to expose this part of myself. But Gemma had to understand why I’m engaged to Esther. Why I have to make my father’s dying wish come true, even if it means being engaged to someone I don’t like.
This is the only way she’ll stop fighting what’s between us. The only way she’ll realize and understand why I’m doing what I’m doing.
“How are you feeling about it?”
I shrug. “It is what it is.”
“Thank you for bringing me here.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You think I had a choice? Although I should be thanking you for playing along so seamlessly.”
She ducks her head, cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry for stepping in like that and lying about being your fiancé. I didn’t mean to over—”
Acting on impulse, I cut her off by cupping her face and crashing my lips against hers. She makes a muffled sound of surprise before melting into the kiss. I walk us backward until her back hits the wall, pinning her there with my body.
Breaking the kiss, I murmur against her lips, “I wouldn’t have it any other way, my gem.”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
I place scorching kisses along her jawline. “Because the sight of you flustered is fucking irresistible.”
“That’s not a very good reason.”
She whimpers as I nip at the sensitive spot below her ear.
“Isn’t it?” I grind my hips against hers, letting her feel how hard I am already. “You’re telling me you don’t get off on this? On me claiming you as mine in front of my father?”
She blinks up at me, lips parted. I have to resist the urge to kiss her again.
“But... your father thinks…”
“That you’re my fiancé? Not Esther? So what?” I shrug. “He likes you better. And so do I.”
Gemma’s fingers tangle in my hair, holding me against her neck. “You’re an arrogant asshole.”
“I never claimed otherwise.” I suck a mark into the crook of her neck. “Now, are you going to be a good girl and keep quiet? Or do I need to find a better way to shut you up?”
She’s mine. Propriety and engagements be damned.
Chapter 17
The aroma of garlic, vegetables and herbs fills the kitchen as I chop everything into pieces. The knife slices through a bell pepper with crisp snaps.
I can’t stop thinking about last night with Elijah and his father. A dying man’s request to see his son happy—that’s some deep shit. Those pale, sunken cheeks and the desperation in his eyes to believe his son has found love before...
I shudder, the knife slicing through an onion with too much force.
