Page 33 of Marriage Masquerade

Stunned, Gemma widened her eyes. Had she heard him correctly?

“Share your room—yourbedroom?”

“Phil went over some questions he suspects the investigator will ask. Like, have we consummated this marriage? Do we share a room? A bed? How long have we been in love? Did we date?”

Gemma couldn’t have said a word if her life depended on it. She was looking forward to the sanctity of her bedroom at night. A place where she could escape Nikos’ powerful attraction and magnetism for a while each day.

Now he wanted to take that away? Have her share his room?

He smiled, though no amusement showed in his eyes.

“Thanks. Your faith is overwhelming.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Never play poker. Your expression gives away everything.”

“That’s not true. I have a great poker face. Look at how I do at work.”

“Trust me, I could sense that you aren’t thrilled with this complication.”

She took a deep breath. The day was taking on a surreal atmosphere.

“What else? Might as well get everything out in the open. Any other complications?”

“Would that be such a hardship? To sleep in my bed? It’s quite large, and I don’t move around a lot.”

Sleep. A euphemism for making love.

Not that Nikos meant that. They’d merely sleep in the same bed. That huge king-size bed she’d glimpsed when touring the apartment.

“Okay. What else?”

“When around others, we need to act like we are a devoted couple.”

“You said that before. What do you mean by devoted?”

He encircled her neck with one hand and pulled her closer.

“Touching, smiling into each other’s eyes like we hold the secret of the universe.”

He demonstrated, and Gemma’s knees went weak.

What would she give to have a man look at her like this and mean it? She’d always wanted to fall in love and get married. Instead, she’d fallen in love with the wrong man and married a different one.

One who could capitalize on her vulnerability right now and lead her to imagine she was falling in love with him.

“You’re not doing your part. Is this another instance where I have to ask?” he asked softly.

Slowly, Gemma relaxed. Gazing up into Nikos' eyes, she let a hint of emotion creep into hers. Smiling as seductively as she could, she reached up and brushed his lips with her fingertips.

“I’ll give it my best shot, darling,” she said huskily.

He groaned and stepped back.

“It’s easier to deal with women in Greece than contrary Americans,” he said, turning. He walked to the table and reached for his glass, draining the juice.

Feeling she’d held her own, Gemma didn’t know how long she could hold out against the powerful pull of attraction her new husband engendered.

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