Page 20 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

Hah! Of course you are. Not.

“Just give me some time. It’s all I’m asking. Let me show you the real me. Sicily was time out for both of us. Let’s see how we get along in real life. Just a few weeks.”

When she remained silent, he raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm, and she tingled everywhere.

“Please.”

Oh God, how the hell am I supposed to say no when he asks so nicely? Not fair.

She was weak willed as well as pathetic. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to deny him. She’d actually hurt him when she’d run. When he hadn’t come after her she’d presumed his feeling were shallow, but maybe he’d felt too much.

“Gabby, say something.”

What?

She was so tempted to give him his few weeks. But it would be wrong. If she was a decent person, she would make a clean break now. Just get it over with and tell him the truth. He’d hate her. But he’d hate her even more if she strung him along, pretended there was a chance for them, until the truth came out—as was inevitable. There were no words bad enough for what she’d done.

On the other hand, there was a chance—probably quite a big chance, huge in fact, considering her personality—that he’d spend time with her and come to the conclusion, all on his own, that they were totally unsuited for each other.

And he’d walk away. She wouldn’t need to tell him anything.

God, she was a coward.

But it would be better for him as well as her. She was doing him a favor.

Self-delusion at its best.

She took a huge, deep breath. “Okay.”

After all, how long would it take him to realize that Gabrielle just didn’t exist? Then he could move on. Yeah, she was doing this for him, to atone a little for her sins. Totally for him.

And now who’s the liar?

But he was right about one thing—sex did cloud the issue.

“But no sex.”

Chapter Six

Vito leaned against the wall of the dimly lit corridor and tried to look inconspicuous. He’d paid somebody fifty quid to let him backstage, but he wasn’t supposed to be here, and he was far from sure that Gabrielle—Gabby—would be pleased to see him.

She’d left him at the hotel that morning with a promise to meet him for dinner tonight. He’d made reservations at his favorite Italian restaurant. He was sure she’d love it—she’d always loved Italian food. They’d talk, not about the engagement or the marriage that didn’t happen, but just about themselves.

He still couldn’t believe her explanation, though he had sensed an element of truth behind her words.

She thought he was too good for her.

He wasn’t.

But hehadalways tried to live by certain standards. His mother and father were missionaries. Living with their example, it would have been hard not to grow up with a strong moral code. Of course, that had been tempered by the fact that his grandfather had been a total unashamed reprobate.

He’d never told Gabrielle about his family. Looking back on that time in Sicily, he realized that they hadn’t talked much about themselves at all, as though they both had things to hide. And she’d seemed such a normal person that maybe he’d subconsciously worried that she’d be put off by his somewhat colorful family.

They’d talked of dancing—she’d been so knowledgeable and had clearly spoken from such personal experience that he hadn’t even questioned the idea of her being a ballet dancer. And they’d talked of books and art. Not his business, though. In fact, if he ever started talking about a business deal, or what was happening within the company, she’d shut him down and change the subject. He’d presumed she wasn’t interested.

Anyway, he’d had a meeting which had finished earlier than he’d expected. And he wanted to see her. She was performing in the matinee that afternoon. What harm would it do to go along and watch? So, he’d gotten his secretary to procure tickets, a box above the auditorium where he would be inconspicuous.

His attention had never left her while she’d been on the stage. She was just in the chorus, but they were present for most of the show. He suspected he was prejudiced, but she was by far the best person on the stage. No way was this ballet, or his sort of thing at all, but she was good. Afterward, he should have left, gone back to the hotel, waited until the agreed upon time, and met her at the restaurant. They were supposed to be taking things slowly. Getting to know one another…not having sex.

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