Page 106 of Wedding Crasher

She didn’t want him to leave, but she couldn’t ask him to stay. ‘Gabe, don’t.’

‘Don’t what, Marla? Don’t tell you I love you?’

Marla’s heart swooped around in her chest like a caged bird.

‘Don’t say that.’

‘Why not? It’s the truth and you know it, Marla. I love you. I’ve loved you since the very first day I saw you.’

Marla slid her glass onto the table, not trusting her hands to hold it any longer. ‘You’re being ridiculous, Gabe … you don’t know what you’re saying. It’s been a long day.’

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you.’

‘Stop it, Gabe. Please, just stop.’

He dragged his chair closer until his knees touched hers.

‘Deny it all you like, but you feel it too. I see you, Marla.’ He reached for her hands. ‘Your mouth says one thing, but your eyes beg me not to listen.’

‘No!’ Marla could feel her well-organised world ripping apart at the seams, and hot tears splashed down her cheeks as she battled to yank the edges back together again. She stumbled to her feet and turned away to grip the cool steel edge of the sink.

Gabe was behind her in seconds, so close that his breath warmed the exposed skin on the back of her neck.

‘Tell me you didn’t feel it when we made love in your garden. In your shower.’ He braced his hands either side of her on the counter. ‘In your bed, for fuck’s sake, Marla.’

The raw catch in his voice squeezed her heart, and she rounded on him in fury and frustration. ‘I didn’t feel it. There, is that what you want? It was sex, Gabe, not love. Grow up …’

He shook his head, and his eyes glittered with hurt, every bit as intense as hers.

‘You’re wrong, Marla, and you damn well know it.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not.’

‘So prove it.’

He kissed her. Hard, the kiss of a warrior. Marla couldn’t fight him; his nearness wiped away any last vestige of her willpower. His kiss was desperate and furious as he hauled her body against his own, and for a few treacherous seconds, she let herself hold him.

His mouth softened instantly over hers, achingly sweet as his tongue licked over hers – she could taste his love. Honey-coated promises of things that could never be, of roses around doorways and dark-eyed babies with gypsy curls.

Emotions battered her from all sides as his hands moved to cradle her face.

Lust so strong she wanted to rip her clothes off and drag him down onto the kitchen floor; frustration so jagged she wanted to smash every bottle on the drainer behind her; and a protective rush more powerful than any lioness as her fingers slid into his sooty hair and held him close.

Soothed him.

Loved him.

When he lifted his head, the look in his eyes told her that he knew.

He’d dragged the truth from her, in actions if not words.

‘I’m not the enemy anymore, beautiful girl. You don’t have to hate me.’

It was the worst thing he could have possibly said. His words mainlined right into the visceral vein of fear that ran through Marla’s core.

Sheneededthose barriers between them.

Sheneededa reason to hate him.

---