Page 22 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

“Nice,” he said as she closed the door behind her.

“It’s not mine,” she replied. “It belongs to a friend—well, actually doesn’t belong to her as such. Her family bought it for an investment and they allow her to use it while she’s working in the city.”

“Is she around?”

He’d like to meet her friends, get some insight into the real Gabby.

“Afraid not. She’s an ER nurse, and she’s on a late shift. But she’s a good friend and let me use her sofa when I had nowhere else to stay.”

“You’ve been here since you left Sicily?”

“Yes, but I’m going to look for my own place now I’ve got a steady income. Have a seat.” She waved at a comfy sofa…her bed? Did she sleep here every night? “I’ll go clean up and get changed. You want a drink?”

“No, I’m good.” He sank onto the sofa as she disappeared through another door. A few minutes later, he heard the running water as she showered.

He looked around the small room. Where had she put the condoms when she’d taken them out of her bag that morning?

None of your business.

Shit, he was growing hard.

Think about something else.

After the summer, he’d be back at his old job. He had lectures to prepare. He’d concentrate on that.

Instead, he stretched out his legs, put his hands behind his head and imagined Gabby naked in the shower, soaping herself, perhaps touching herself, because she was as turned on as he was. He’d almost convinced himself it was his duty to help her out, to go to her assistance, lend a helping hand or a helping cock, when the water went off and the door slammed. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and forced himself to relax.

This “no sex” thing was what he’d wanted, what she’d agreed to. He had to try. And it was the right thing to do; sex did complicate matters. In fact, it was all he could think about.

Stop thinking about sex!

Five minutes later, the bedroom door opened, and there she stood. For a second he felt a frown tug at his mouth. She looked almost like his old Gabrielle. She wore a black dress, fitted but demure, reaching just above the knee, with short sleeves and a modest neckline. Pearls circled her slender throat and her hair was pulled up into a chignon, which minimized the effect of the pink streaks. Sheer black tights and high heeled pumps finished off the outfit. She looked beautiful but somehow…not what he was expecting.

He stood up. “Gabrielle.”

Her eyes flashed. “Gabby.”

“You look like Gabrielle tonight.”

“I do?” She peered down herself, a frown forming between her brows, lips pursing. “I—”

She was interrupted by a key turning in the lock. She went immediately still, eyes widening as the door opened to reveal a young woman in jeans and a red shirt that showed off her olive skin and dark hair. Then Gabby sprang into action, rushing forward and taking the other woman’s arm.

She winced. “Ouch.”

“What’s the matter?” Gabby asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I had a little accident, and they sent me home.” She dragged up her sleeve to show the white gauze of a bandage.

“Are you okay? You need anything? You want me to stay?”

The other woman looked around, her eyes resting on him for the first time. Then she looked back to Gabby, a frown forming as she took in her appearance.

Vito stepped forward and held out his hand. “Hello, I’m Vito D’Ascensio.”

He heard Gabby’s indrawn breath, and the other woman’s eyes narrowed. She hesitated for a second, then thrust out her hand and shook his.

“I’m Theresa. I live here.” She turned to Gabby, her expression grim. Maybe she didn’t like the look of him? Maybe she was protective of her friend. “Could you excuse us for a second?” She took Gabby’s arm and tugged her toward the bedroom, waggling the fingers of her other hand at Vito. “We’ll only be a couple of minutes.”

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