Page 23 of Just for the Holidays
She loved vintage couture and had amassed quite a valuable collection over the years, though this one was one of her favorites. She’d intended to wear it for Nochebuena in Punta Cana but if she was honest, it was more fitting for an evening dining by a fireplace. She’d done little with her makeup—just a bit of mascara, her new trademark winged eyeliner and red lipstick.
She looked good. Healthy and elegant, but more than anything she loved how she felt in this dress. In her own skin. She ran her hands over the skirt, looking at her reflection. Her skin buzzed with anticipation. In part it was that she was looking forward to spending time with Gael’s family, but mostly she couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen after. All day they’d been circling each other, only to clash into frantic, breath-stealing kisses. It had always been like this for her when it came to Gael, like her body was dormant for anyone else, but with him the fire inside her roared to life in an instant. It was more than desire; it was a bone-deep wild need.
The truth was that she’d probably never stop wanting Gael. That no matter how much of him she got she’d always want more. They’d agreed that this thing they were doing could only go on until she left. And she should be glad. She’d gotten what she came to do; he’d agreed to take the role. And this time she knew what was coming. She would have time to prepare for the goodbye.
“That really doesn’t make any of it better,” she sighed as she stepped into her Louboutin heels. She’d have to take them off in a minute and switch into snow boots for the walk to the main house, but she wanted to see the whole outfit together. “I look kind of hot,” she told herself, even if the smile from before had waned a little.
She heard a light knock on the door before it opened just a couple of inches.
“Can I come in?”
Her heart kicked up in her chest to a gallop, as butterflies fluttered in her belly from hearing Gael’s voice. “Sure, come on in.” He’d let her have the bedroom while he changed in the other room, so she hadn’t seen him in his own Nochebuena best yet. She closed her eyes for a second, bracing herself for the sight of Gael Montez in a suit.
“Perla,” he breathed out as she turned around to face him. His eyes roamed over her hungrily, and she would’ve flushed at the attention, but she was too busy staring at him. He was wearing a burgundy velvet jacket—which she recognized from Tom Ford’s latest collection—and black slacks. His chin-length hair was parted at the center and framed his gorgeous face perfectly. The man really was movie-star handsome. Those shoulders filled out the jacket perfectly and her hands itched to touch him. And lucky for her there was nothing and no one stopping her from doing it all night.
“You look amazing,” he told her as he came closer. Without hesitation he took her in his arms and kissed her cheek. “Tan bella.” No one had ever called her beautiful before Gael. Or maybe they had, but with him it was the first time she’d believed it. Because there was no way to mistake what she saw in his eyes when he looked at her. The mix of tenderness and barely contained hunger with which he touched her. It was why it had been such a shock when he’d ended things. But that was not relevant now, not when Gael was holding her like she was everything he needed.
“I have something for you,” he whispered in her ear, bringing her focus back to him.
“You do?” She could hear the smile in her voice and goodness, how was that possible after knowing everything she knew? After the heartache. After so much time. How could this man still turn her inside out? She felt him reach into his pocket and then he brought a hand up to show her. In his palm was a pair of pearl drop earrings.
“Where did you get this?” she asked as she plucked one out of his hand. It was clearly vintage, done in an Art-Deco style. The perfect tear-shaped pearl dangled from a row of baguette-cut diamonds, and at the top was a perfect round-cut ruby encircled by tiny diamonds. When she turned it around, she saw the Cartier stamp along the clasp.
“Do you like them?” She just looked up at him, too stunned to do anything but shake her head.Like them?If he would’ve given her hundreds of earrings to choose from, these would’ve been the ones she’d pick.
“I love them,” she told him as she moved to take off the ones she was wearing, so she could put the new ones on. “Seriously, though, where did you get them?”
He grinned at her, having a little too much fun with his vintage jewelry prowess. “Remember when I slipped out while you were helping set the table?”
“Yes...” The rest of what she was going to say died in her throat as he moved to help her put on the earrings.
“Our next-door neighbor owns an antique jewelry store in town. She usually has some pieces at home,” he informed her as he nimbly hooked an earring on one side and then the other. “There,” he told her before pressing a kiss on her cheek and stepping back to look at her. Good grief. It was like he could tell whenever she’d managed to convince herself she could walk away from this unscathed, and then intentionally said or did something to remind her she was fooling herself.
“Perfect.” The way he said it sounded like he wasn’t just referring to the earrings, but she was not reckless enough to assume he was talking about them. Without saying a word she let him put his hands on her shoulders and move her until she was facing the mirror again.
“Gael,” she said, too afraid of what would come out of her mouth to risk another word. He was right; they were perfect. The ideal complement to her gown. He was standing right behind her, and even in her heels he towered over her. He ran his hands possessively over her flanks, waist and hips.
“I can’t stop thinking about tonight,” he whispered hotly against her ear, and she had to bite down not to moan. “As soon as we come back tonight, I’m going to take off this dress and put my mouth right here.” He placed the heel of his hand right at the apex of her thighs, and pressed hard.
“Ah,” Perla gasped, and her head lolled on his shoulder. The lids of her eyes felt heavy and she lowered them until she could barely see through. It was thrilling to look at them both in the mirror while he touched her like this. “We need to go to dinner soon,” she said in a reedy voice she could hardly recognize.
“We will, but as soon as we’re back here I’m going to have you screaming for me, Perla. I’m going to lick and taste you until you come on my tongue, and then I’m going to take my sweet time with you.” He punctuated each word with a roll of his hips, letting her feel exactly what it was that he was going to give her. This was them, always. Sweet and sinful all at once, a perfect match. Theylookedperfect, too. Elegant, young and perfect. Like they belonged together. That thought went a long way to suffuse the fire roiling in her blood, and she smiled sadly at the picture they made. She turned to look up at him and for a second she thought she saw a flash of her own regret in his eyes.
She turned her back on the reflection of everything she wanted and could not have. “I’m ready,” she told him without daring to look in his eyes again.
He looked at her for a second, as if there was something he wanted to tell her. But after a moment he shook his head and smiled. “Are you sure you’re ready for the madness of Nochebuena with the Montezes?”
“More than ready,” she assured him, ignoring the stab of longing she felt. And the truth was she did look forward to this evening, and all that it would entail. Fake or not, this was the closest thing to real happiness she’d felt in a while. She wouldn’t waste a moment of it. Life would come calling soon enough.
Thirteen
“Let me help with that, Veronica.”
Gael grinned as he found Perla gently coaxing his mother to stop taking dishes to the kitchen. They’d finished dinner moments ago and despite there being staff to help with the cleaning, his mother and grandmother could not quite relax.
“Mami, listen to Perla,” he said as he wrapped his arms around his mother’s thin shoulders while winking at his fake girlfriend. Although nothing about the way he’d been feeling about Perla felt anywhere near fake.
“Ay, Gael, I’m fine,” his mother groused as he nudged her out of the kitchen.
