Page 14 of Marriage Masquerade

“It’s not harassment. Friendly curiosity and open season for gossip. Some women who work here find you vastly romantic and think our marriage is a continuation of that romantic streak in you.”

At least she’d be spared some of the speculation about her pregnancy when it became known—she hoped. She should be grateful for that. But she was still not feeling too charitable toward men. And it wasn’t as if Nikos wasn’t getting what he wanted from the deal.

“Romantic? That’s nonsense.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I can see their point.”

He stepped closer. Gemma felt the air leave the room. She would have stepped back, gained some space, but she was already against her desk. If she didn’t want to duck to one side like a gawky schoolgirl, she had to hold her ground.

A deep breath—and she became conscious of Nikos' unique scent, masculine and entirely too tantalizing. Gemma longed for a moment’s respite.

“You see their point? Maybe you could elaborate.”

His voice was low, husky. Instantly Gemma imagined dark velvet-warm nights, Nikos with a woman alone in a quiet place, talking, touching…

Her imagination soared out of control. Swallowing, she tried to find the words to make the man step back. But nothing came to mind except how she’d like to feel his lips on her own.

Why did she keep thinking about a kiss? She’d sworn off men.

“Gemma?”

She cleared her throat.

“You are, um, rather, ah, exotic?”

“Exotic?”

“In a thrilling sort of way,” she added rapidly, totally confused by the emotions that clamored within. Was this some kind of hormone-induced fantasy? Was she losing her mind?

“Thrilling? You intrigue me. Please continue.”

How did she get into this? Where was Frank LeBec? Wasn’t he supposed to be here by now?

“Well, you’re wildly attractive, tall, dark, and handsome. Women notice things like that. And you’re successful and rich and sophisticated and Greek men are known to be romantic.”

He leaned even closer until Gemma could feel the puff of his breath caress her cheeks. Mesmerized by his dark eyes, she couldn’t continue. Could scarcely put two thoughts together. Her entire body seemed to be tuned to his, yearned for his, wished to explore that mouth that was so temptingly near. She longed to brush her fingers through that dark hair; test the strength of his muscles. Feel his heat envelop her.

“I’m fascinated by this discussion. Please continue,” he said.

His voice was like mulled wine—spicy and hot and intoxicating. Gemma wanted him to speak, not her—so she could listen to his voice and float away on the myriad feelings that tumbled inside.

She leaned back over her desk, trying for some distance, some perspective.

“Nikos, you’re crowding me.”

“You’ve intrigued me, Gemma. I’m interested to see if you feel as these other women do. If you find me exotic, fascinating, attractive.”

His mouth was mere inches from hers. Gemma wondered what he’d do if she just leaned forward until her lips touched his. Before she could gather enough wits to respond, however, he straightened and stepped back.

“Much as I’d like to continue this right now, I hear Elise approaching. Frank LeBec must be here.”

He moved to the door.

Gemma remained rooted to the spot. If she didn’t have the support of the desk behind her, she’d have sunk to the floor. Taking a deep breath, she desperately sought control. She had a meeting to attend. No time to get starry-eyed about her boss or start imagining an attraction that wasn’t there.

If his presence at work drove her wild, what would being married feel like? It was necessary for her to maintain control. She dared not imagine there was more to this relationship than was actually between them.

She’d set herself up for heartbreak once.

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