Page 67 of His Fantasy Bride (Things To Do Before You Die)

She reached out a trembling hand and touched the diamond solitaire. It was the ring she’d left behind all those months ago when she’d run. He took hold of her hand and slid the ring onto her finger. “Back where it belongs.” Then he took a deep breath. “Gabby, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

She swallowed, then blinked. “Oh, I will, definitely, totally. And I’ll be the best bride ever.”

He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm, whispering against her skin. “Cara mia, just turn up this time, that’s all I ask.”

She grinned. “I absolutely promise. Cross my heart.”

He pulled her into his arms, then picked her up, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed for the door. A ripple of a cheer rose from the crowd all around them.

She thumped him on the back. “Hey, where are we going?”

“Does it matter? Just out of here.”

“Isn’t this your party?”

“My dad will deal with it. He’s good at that. And we’ll be quick, but there’s something important we need to do.”

“There is?”

“Yes.”

“And we can’t do it here?”

“We could, but we’d probably be arrested.”

“Oh.”

They were out of the main room now. Where to go? He looked around. Too many people. He hauled her along the corridor, one hand on her ass, halting when he came to a door that said, Conference Room 2. Pushing it open, he found the room blissfully empty. It was big, a table running the length of the room with chairs all around it. No bed, they would have to improvise.

No problem.

Kicking the door shut behind him, he shifted her in his arms so he held her around the waist, then whirled her around until he was dizzy. She was laughing as he put her down just inside the door. He loved the sound.

Mine.

It was sinking in—she’d said yes.

After locking the door behind them—he didn’t want anyone interrupting this particular conference—he turned back. “Gabrielle Harper you aremine. So is Gabby. And any other parts you play in the future.”

“No more parts, I promise. Unless I’m on a stage.” Her teeth nibbled on her lower lip. “Look, there’s something I haven’t told you but—”

“We’ll talk later.” She was about to tell him she was leaving London, but he already knew. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow. I’ll find a way.”

Enough words.

Pulling off his tie, he stuffed it in his pocket, then unbuttoned the jacket of his tux and shrugged out of it. He tossed it on the table behind him, went back to it, pulled the condom out of the inside pocket and tucked it into his pants pocket. He’d come prepared.Hopeful.When he looked back at her she was still standing there, still fully dressed, a faintly bemused expression on her face.

“Madre di Dio, you’re killing me,cara.”

Taking a step back, she looked him up and down, lingering on the growing bulge in his pants, so the rest of his blood supply drained to his dick. Her eyelids lowered, and she licked her lips. It looked like she was getting the idea—thank Christ.

“Hmm…I suppose we are engaged now.” Lifting her left hand, she waggled her fingers. “Did I ever tell you how much I love this ring?” She sighed dramatically. “How painful it was to leave it behind?” Without waiting for a reply, she reached up and pulled the pins out of her hair and ran a hand through it, tousling the waves. She turned her back to him. “Zipper.”

For a moment, he didn’t understand the word.

She peeked back over her shoulder, eyes twinkling. “Well, there’s no way we’re having sex with me in this dress. Not physically possible.”

At her words, his dick jumped in his pants, and the last of the tension drained out of him. Moving up close, he lowered his head, kissed the soft silky skin where her neck met her shoulder, and felt her shiver against him. His fingers found the tab beneath her hair and slowly lowered the zipper. It went all the way to her ass, the material parting to reveal her golden skin. He trailed a finger over the smooth curve of her spine, the swell of her buttocks. Her back arched, and she made a low groan that had the blood boiling in his veins.

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