Page 11 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

Yesterday had been surreal.

In all honesty, he hadn’t known what to expect. When she’d run out on him all those months ago, she’d left him reeling.

He’d been going through something of a crisis of character, anyway. The previous months had been crazy. His grandfather’s death. The promise he had made the old man just before he had died. He’d been living a life so different from his normal existence that he didn’t know who he was anymore, didn’t recognize himself. And he’d been stunned by how much he’d enjoyed the role he had taken on.

Maybe his grandfather had seen that in him, some sort of lust for money and power. He’d even once or twice considered keeping the company, becoming CEO of D’Ascensio Corporation for real instead of just as a favor to the grandfather he’d loved. “Just try it,” hisnonnohad asked. Get the company through the dangerous period after his death and make sure the vultures didn’t pick his life’s work to pieces. One set of vultures in particular—the Scarlesis. Of course, Vito knew all about the feud that had gone on since his grandfather had been a young man. But he hadn’t thought much about it—it seemed like something out of another age.

But he’d enjoyed running the company far more than he would have believed possible, enjoyed the cut and thrust, the high level negotiations, the jetting between cities.

Then Gabrielle had come along, and she’d grounded him, made him remember what was important to him. He’d been excited to show her his other life, and genuinely believed she would prefer it.

The life of a university professor over that of the head of a multi-billion-dollar company. Was that why she’d run? Because in the end she had only wanted him for the money and the glamorous lifestyle?

Could she really be so different from what he’d believed?

No, she’d just been running scared. He’d moved too fast for her, but something inside him had pushed. Had he known all along, in his subconscious, that his hold on her was tenuous?

But if he could have designed his ideal life partner, she would have come out exactly like Gabrielle. Had she been too good to be true? Should that have warned him?

The beautiful, demure, ballet dancer he’d met and fallen in love with on Sicily was completely different from the sexy, exotic creature of yesterday with her pink hair and tattoo. And Christ, she’d had her belly button pierced. A wave of lust washed over him as he remembered. If asked, he would have categorically denied that body piercings of any sort were a turn-on. But now his dick was hard just from the memory.

Christo, she had felt good, wrapped around his cock.

Yesterday, she’d tasted sweet like bubblegum, and her skin had been so soft.

He groaned and rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling high above, his hand pushing beneath the white cotton sheet to fist his cock.

It was as though she’d brought him to life again. Or at least his dick.

He squeezed, closed his eyes, and imagined her tongue licking his length, her mouth, hot and warm, taking him inside. The old Gabrielle, he’d never considered in this role. The new one—his imagination couldn’t get enough of her. His hips arched as he stroked himself, the pleasure swelling in his balls, flowing up his spine, concentrating on the tip. So close.

A knock sounded on the door, and he went still. It took a moment for him to get his head together, in which time, the knock sounded again. Reluctantly, his hand left his cock, and he groaned in frustration, waiting for the sting of desire to subside.

He’d put up theDo Not Disturbsign last night so it wouldn’t be one of the hotel staff.

It could only be Gabrielle. Somehow he hadn’t thought she’d be an early morning person. Then he glanced at his watch. It was already nine o’clock.

The knock came again, louder this time.

“Coming,” he called out. Unsure whether his voice would carry outside the room, he moved quickly, not wanting her to disappear before he could open the door. He pushed down the sheet and rolled out of the king-size bed. He was naked and he grabbed his pants from the night before and pulled them on, tugging up the zipper but not bothering with anything else.

He crossed the room, then the sitting area of the suite, and got to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it. And no one was there.

Panic flared.

He stepped out and peered down the corridor just in time to see her slim figure disappearing around the corner. “Gabrielle!”

She halted and turned, approaching him slowly. This morning she was dressed in a tight denim skirt that revealed lots of leg, with high-heeled pink sandals on her feet and a short black T-shirt that bared her midriff and the little ruby nestled in her belly button. Inappropriately, his dick twitched. He forced his gaze upward. Her hair was loose around her face, and her eyes appeared huge, deep blue, and her lips were darkened to match her hair. She looked breathtaking. Like a breathtaking total stranger.

She returned his stare, her gaze fixed on his chest. His bare chest. Did she like what she saw? The old Gabrielle had hardly seemed to notice his body. This one was devouring him with her sultry eyes.

Her gaze lowered to his crotch where he was pretty sure his hard-on was clear to see.

He ran a hand through his hair and then across the rough skin of his jawline. He gave a shrug. “Sorry, I was still in bed.”

She screwed her face into a grimace. “I woke up and I thought—let’s get this over with.”

His jaw tightened and a tic jumped in his cheek. What the hell? Was he something to be gotten out of the way as fast as possible? “Hardly flattering.”

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