Engaging the Bachelor Cathryn Fox

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Pretending to date this doctor is a prescription for trouble…

Hot, Southampton doctor, Carson Reynolds isn’t the kind of man Gemma Carr should be playing with. But his offer of a fake engagement

comes with sexy, late night house calls, and despite her bad girl reputation, it’s been far too long since she’s taken two and called anyone in the

morning.

When Carson sees Gemma at a charity event, he knows he has to have her. It’s been ten years since he’s had her in his arms, but that

hasn’t lessened his intense need for her. To save her reputation and get his parents off his back, he makes her an offer she can’t refuse.

It’s the perfect set-up—until this fake engagement starts to feel a little too real…

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Table of Contents

Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Cathryn Fox…

Learning Curves
Slow Ride
Wild Ride
Sweet Ride
Hold Me Down Hard
Tie Me Down Tight
Betting on the Wrong Brother

If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases…

Foolproof Love
Playing the Perfect Boyfriend
Leveling the Field
Her Fantasy Husband

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s

imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead,

is coincidental.

Copyright © 2016 by Cathryn Fox. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or

transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the

Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at

www.entangledpublishing.com

.

Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit

www.brazenbooks.com

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Edited by Candace Havens

Cover design by Heather Howland

Cover art from iStock

ISBN 978-1-63375-676-2

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition July 2016

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Dear Reader,

This story was inspired by Dr. McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy. I wanted to write about my own sexy

doctor, torture him a little bit, (LOL) then give him the happy ending he’s worked so hard for.

As I was plotting this story, I was deep into the series, Revenge, which was set in the Hamptons. I was

fascinated with the gorgeous location, and when it came time to choose a setting, I knew it just had to be

Southhampton. Now I really need to visit the location and all the spots Carson and Gemma hung out. The

rich locale also just screamed for a “wrong side of the tracks” story, so I paired Carson off against bad

girl Gemma, a bartender at Score—a sports bar where the staff from Hampton General go to unwind. Boy

oh boy, do sparks ever fly between the two who are so different but oh so right for each other.

I hope you enjoy Engaging the Bachelor, and be sure to watch out for stories from Mari Carr, Lauren

Hawkeye, and Jan Meredith. I would love to hear from you. You can follow me on Twitter

@writercatfox

,

and

Facebook

https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCathrynFox

, or visit me at

cathrynfox.com

.

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I would like to thank all the doctors and nurses who work night and day to perform lifesaving acts

which are nothing short of a miracle. Bless you.

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Chapter One

No. Fucking. Way.

Emergency room doctor Carson Reynolds stepped into Score, the local sports bar where the staff from

Hampton General went to unwind, and nearly bit off his tongue.

Holy. Shit.

With shaky hands, he gripped his suddenly too tight collar and tugged, unable to tear his gaze from the

sexy vision before him. He sucked in air, but couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Am I having a fucking

heart attack? At least the place was filled with doctors and nurses who could revive him if he fell face-

first onto the scuffed and pitted floor.

His heart raced—okay, galloped—and roared in his ears like a runaway gurney. He briefly pinched his

eyes shut, a desperate attempt to pull himself together. He opened them again, expecting her to be gone, a

mere figment of his imagination, but when he found her standing there, her smile bright, a rush of

excitement pulsed through him like a double shot of adrenaline.

His gaze skated over her, traveling a mile up those long slender legs that knew how to draw a man in

tight and hold him down hard. Fuck me. The mid-thigh, low-cut, retro nurse uniform she wore showcased

slim hips and perfect breasts that beckoned his hands, his mouth. Damn he wanted to taste her. Again.

Oh yeah, there was no mistake about it. It was her. The girl he’d spent the last ten years searching for—

the same one who’d haunted his dreams so many nights. His mind rushed back to his nineteenth birthday,

to the evening she and her friend had crashed the party he was throwing at his folk’s beachside cottage

just a few blocks from where he currently stood.

That night she’d freely given him her virginity, but not her name, and then disappeared from his life

forever. Now here she stood—across the street from Hampton Gen, where he’d just taken a temporary

position—in an establishment he instantly decided to make his second home.

He still hovered at the door, feet firmly planted—more like immobilized—his gaze riveted on the

woman who’d blown through his world like a hurricane and left him in shambles in the aftermath. They

might have only been kids at the time—two strangers who’d fucked on the pool house floor—and he’d

been with his fair share of women since, but he still couldn’t get the warmth of her touch, the honeyed

taste of her kisses, out of his mind.

He brushed his tongue over his bottom lip, searching for remnants of her sweetness. Maybe if he had

her again, just one more time, he might finally be able to get her out of his system and move on with his

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life.

Why did she give me her virginity, but not her name?

That question had plagued him for years. Sure he’d had a one-track mind back in the day, his cock like a

heat-seeking missile with one mission. So when little Miss Sexy and Eighteen had come on to him, he

reacted like any lust driven teenager would. It didn’t matter that she was an outsider, a girl from the

wrong side of the tracks who’d snuck into his party. She was beautiful, and warm, and she’d wanted him.

Not because of who he was or what he could give her. No, all she’d asked was for him to hold her, to

take her, and in turn she had given him something precious—something he had no right to claim.

Christ, he never would have taken her on the floor of the pool house like a goddamn hound had he

known she was a virgin. Yeah, he was a typical nineteen-year-old at the time, but he wasn’t a complete

asshole. Unfortunately, by the time his cock had met with resistance, and he realized it was her first time,

she’d tightened her legs around his back, lifted her hips, and pulled him in deeper.

Afterward, he’d tried to wrap her in his arms until he knew she was okay. But she’d pushed away from

him, insisting she was fine—her tough armor keeping him out. With only the moonlight shining in through

the small pool house window, she’d scrambled back into her clothes, fled like a cat from water, never to

be heard from again.

Cheers erupted in the room, and his thoughts came rocketing back to the present. He found her in the

crowd again and watched her sashay around the tables in too-high heels he assumed very few women

could master. With her arms in the air, and a pair of handcuffs glinting in the overhead light as they

dangled from her fingertips, the bad-girl nurse gave an extra shake to her hips as she pulled Jake Banyan

—a guy Carson had grown up with—now an ER colleague, from his chair and paraded him around the

room before she marched him to the bar.

What the hell was going on? Carson’s mind raced to catch up. Oh, right. Tonight was the bar’s yearly

charity auction—that had to be the reason she was dressed in a retro nurse uniform—and the funds the

hospital staff helped raise would go toward feeding the homeless. He’d seen the flyers in the doctors’

lounge, but it had been a hell of a long day getting his administration work sorted out, and while he was

all about donating, the event had slipped his mind.

Little Miss Sexy Nurse grabbed a microphone off the small podium. “Come on, ladies,” she said,

waving her hand over Jake’s body like a game show host unveiling a prize, and wiggling against him

suggestively. Jake, who Carson had long ago branded an arrogant asshole, went along with it, playing the

women in the bidding pool like they were well-tuned instruments. Still dressed in his hospital scrubs,

Jake turned toward the mahogany bar top. All in good fun, he aimed his ass at the crowd and pretended to

pick something up. Thunderous claps roared in Carson’s ears, and Carson found himself grinning. Better

Jake than him.

Carson’s sexy nurse ran her fingers over Jake’s stethoscope and pressed it to her heart. She fanned her

other hand in front of her face and bent one knee, her back curving seductively. Jesus, she was sexy. His

cock jumped.

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Shit. Down boy.

“I don’t know about you ladies,” she said, her voice sexy, breathless. “But Jake sure has my heart

pulsing.” As Jake eye-fucked her, she looked into the crowd and winked, her sassy attitude completing the

bad girl package. “I think I might want to keep this naughty boy all to myself.”

Like hell she would.

A wave of possessiveness Carson had no right to feel prowled through him. Tension dug into his neck

as he hiked his backpack up higher on his shoulder, letting go of the door he was still clutching. As it

banged shut, heads turned his way, and he forced his legs to work. He sidestepped a few tables until he

found one in the corner. He eased into the seat, losing himself in the shadows, wanting nothing more than

to watch her. For now. Hell, he’d been looking ten long years for her. A few more minutes weren’t going

to kill him. Or maybe they would, especially if she kept shaking her sweet ass like that. He shifted

uncomfortably, admiring and appreciating. Lusting inappropriately.

“Fifty dollars,” a middle aged woman in the crowd yelled, waving paddle number sixty-two in the air

with enough enthusiasm that Jake ought to be scared. Lord knew Carson would be.

Carson’s sexy nurse let her gaze travel the length of Jake and sighed. She pouted that lush mouth of hers

and lifted the microphone. “As hot as you are Jake, I’m afraid that’s out of my budget.” She pointed to the

woman with the paddle. “Let the bidding begin.”

She handed off the microphone to a woman dressed in nursing scrubs. With alcohol flowing freely, the

room bristled with excitement. The crowd was loud, alive, the atmosphere electric. Carson sucked it all

in, feeding off the rush. It gave him his second wind, watching his sexy nurse search the crowd for her

next victim.

“Thanks, Gemma,” said the auctioneer, a naughty smile playing on her lips as she ran her finger along

the scruff on Jake’s jaw. “So what do you say, hot stuff? Are you ready to play doctor with one of these

generous women, and cure everything that ails them?” She grinned at Jake and then shot a glance around

the room, her gaze briefly brushing over Carson as he hovered in the shadows. “Do I hear seventy-five?”

Another paddle went up. “Seventy-five,” a woman yelled. But Carson couldn’t think about the bidding

war that was about to take place. Not when the sexy nurse was coming his way.

Gemma.

The din of the crowd disappeared as Carson said her name out loud, trying it out on his tongue and

savoring the way it lingered on his lips. He said it again, and everything in the way it tasted, how it

reverberated in his brain, had his mind careening back to the night she’d given herself to him. Too bad

she’d called him Sailor Boy instead of Carson, compliments of the Nautica sweater he had given her to

keep warm, he supposed. What he would have done to hear his name on her lips, to say hers in return.

He turned his attention to the woman auctioning off Jake. She was the friend who’d helped Gemma

crash his party that fateful night, only to disappear into one of the upstairs bedrooms with his buddy,

leaving Gemma to fend for herself. At least his friend had gotten Andy’s name before she headed back to

Brooklyn when the party was over. If only he’d gotten her cell number, too. Carson would have been able

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to track Gemma down through her. She might not have wanted to be found, but that memorable night left

him needing more than just answers.

He shook his head, hardly able to believe he’d finally found the girl he’d compared every other to.

Over the years, his parents had thrown dozens of woman at him, trying to marry him off to some socialite

with the right pedigree, but none of those girls had ever measured up to Gemma.

Carson scrubbed his hand over his face, his gaze locked on Gemma as she worked the room. Teeth

flashing in a brilliant smile, she peered into the dark corner, her confident steps slowing, more cautious as

she approached. Another few steps brought her closer, into his personal space, and then all of a sudden

her feet came to a halt. When their gazes clashed, her eyes went wide, like she’d seen a ghost.

He supposed she had.

She searched for the nearest chair to support herself, but her hand faltered and pushed it out of reach.

As the metal legs scraped over the wood floor, Gemma sucked in a quick breath and faltered backward,

her too-high heels failing her trembling legs. Before she toppled, Carson moved swiftly. He pushed from

his chair and caught her in his arms.

The instant he touched her, sexual energy arced between them. Forget the emergency backup system at

the hospital. With the barest of touches they could generate enough electricity to light up an entire New

York block in a black out—for a solid week. He dipped his head, his mouth inches from hers. Her

enticing floral scent seeped under his skin and took him back to the day he’d had her beneath him. Jesus.

He drew on every ounce of strength he possessed to stop from reacquainting his lips with hers, from

losing himself in the sweetness of her mouth and between her legs.

He brushed his knuckles over her warm cheek, a soft caress that brought heat to her dark, honey-flecked

eyes. “Hi Gemma,” he whispered, pitching his voice low, for her ears only.

For one shocked moment she just stood there, then she drew in a quick, shaky breath. “Sailor boy?”

Those soft, barely there words fluttered past trembling lips and washed over his face, filling him with a

need he hadn’t experienced in a long time. As her voice vibrated through him, his pulse skyrocketed, his

cock throbbing against his zipper. It clamored to get out, to feel her soft palms wrapped around it. Christ,

he couldn’t stop thinking about the ways she’d explored him that night, her hands curious, her touch urgent

and needy, looking for so much from him. His blood flowed thick and heavy, and he clenched his teeth,

fighting to keep himself in check. Thank fuck he wasn’t wearing scrubs. He didn’t need everyone in the

bar knowing he was sporting the hard-on of the century.

“Yeah, it’s me, but the name is Carson.” She stared at him wide-eyed, her chest rising and falling

erratically. “Say it,” he whispered. She shook her head, like she was trying to wrap her brain around this

turn of events. He touched her chin lightly, brushing his thumb over her cheek, waiting as she grounded

herself in the moment. “Say it, Gemma,” he repeated.

A long pause and then she murmured, “Carson.” Her voice was soft, sultry, sensuously low, and it

caressed his cock in the most mind-fucking ways.

“The next time you’re in my bed, that’s the name you’re going to use.”

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She stiffened, but he held her tighter, not daring to let her out of his hold this time. No, this time he was

damn well determined to find out who she was and why she’d given her virginity to a boy she’d didn’t

even know—and never intended to see again.

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Chapter Two

At first Gemma thought she was hallucinating, her mind playing vicious tricks on her this warm June

evening. Then again, maybe her defunct sex life was the reason she was conjuring up images from long

ago. This wasn’t really happening, was it? The first boy she’d slept with was not standing before her,

right?

Wrong. This was happening. Right here, right now. The hottest guy she knew was standing over her, his

big, strong, competent hands wrapped around her body in a way that made her knees go weak.

Why do I have to have a thing for hands?

Mouth agape and stomach in knots, she stared at him, trying not to think about the way his fingers spread

over the small of her back, his heat seeping into her skin and turning her blood to molten lava. Good God,

she’d never expected to lay eyes on him again.

Sailor Boy.

What the hell was he doing in her bar? Okay, technically it wasn’t her bar. Her best friend’s mother,

Tanya Miller, former nurse at Hampton Gen, had bought the place a few years back. Gemma was just here

for a summer stint to make extra cash so she could get her jewelry business off the ground. The place

mostly catered to nurses and doctors, and the last person she expected to see walking through that door

was Carson—the rich boy who’d been groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps and take a nice cushy

corner office in his daddy’s Manhattan law firm. At least, that’s what she’d overheard at the party she’d

crashed. Had he switched career paths?

“What are you doing here?” she finally managed to get out past the lump in her throat.

He gestured toward the door. “Summer position in the ER.”

So he was a doctor.

He dipped his head, curious eyes taking in her tight uniform. “Something tells me you’re not really a

nurse, though.”

“I’m not.” Her glance moved over his face, noting the stubble on his jaw, the streaks of charcoal under

perceptive eyes that looked at her far too carefully. One thing was for sure. The man needed a warm bed

and a good night’s sleep. He might be tired but it didn’t distract from his good looks at all. In fact, it made

him appear more rugged, down to earth, something more than a pampered Southampton hottie born with a

silver spoon in his mouth.

Even in her heels, he was tall enough that she had to tilt her head to see him, and as he hovered over

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her, translucent blue eyes—looking like they could see right through her—remained locked on hers,

questioning. Her toes curled, but it had nothing to do with the overindulgent shoes that pinched her feet.

His hair was shorter than she remembered, more professional, but the smell of his skin was the same.

Sun and sand on a warm summer day. What was it about his aroma that had her forgetting she didn’t do

close? That letting people in only led to heartache. Lord knew, as a child she’d seen enough ‘uncles’

come and go from her life that she eventually started calling all of them Skip. No need to get personal,

since every one of them bailed sooner or later, abandoning her mother and leaving Gemma to clean up the

mess.

Unable to help herself, she breathed in his scent and let it evoke heated memories that she’d spent ten

long years trying to forget. Or remember. She could never be sure. One thing she did know—Sailor Boy,

or rather Carson, was the guy who’d taken her virginity, the only guy she’d ever let close, and that wasn’t

something she was going to forget in a hurry.

His hard chest pressed against her, making her so very aware of him, right down to the way his zipper

dug into her stomach, and the firm bulge throbbing beneath it. She swallowed, remembering the sting of

his erection as she wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him deeper into her body. But the pain

didn’t matter. No, the only thing that mattered that night was that he’d protected her, and she’d given him

the only thing she had—herself.

“Gemma, are you okay?” he whispered, his warm breath on her face drawing her back to the present.

Tension hung between them, taking up space, hovering like the sharp blade of a guillotine. His lips were

close, so close that if she wanted to kiss him, all she had to do was go up on her toes. He wet his bottom

lip like he was expecting her to do just that.

No!

She sucked in a quick breath to get her head on right then straightened. With a twist of her body, she

broke from the circle of his arms and stepped back. Guard firmly back in place, she spun the handcuffs

and flashed him a brilliant smile, hoping it didn’t come off as shaky as she felt.

“I’m just fine, Sailor Boy,” she said, stepping into the bad girl role she knew so well. She embraced

her reputation, wore it like a shield to protect herself from the heartbreak that came with loss—and there

was always loss. If there was one thing she knew, eventually everyone checked out, they went across the

country, or to the bottom of a bottle.

Hooded eyes dropped, and he angled his head. Everything in the way he was watching her was intense.

Too intense. “We need to talk.”

“Nothing to talk about,” she said, her voice feathery light.

“Gemma—”

“Look, what happened between us was a long time ago. I’d actually forgotten all about it until I saw you

just now,” she said, pushing the lie past her lips.

“Is that right?” He eyed her suspiciously, unconvinced.

“That’s right. The past is the past, Sailor Boy.”

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The look in his eyes warned he still wanted answers. Too bad. She didn’t owe him anything. Like she

said, the past was the past and her future didn’t involve him, no matter how hot he was, or how her body

reacted to him.

She turned away and forced her knees to work. Her heels wobbled, but she quickly righted herself and

made her way around the room. She didn’t need to turn to know Carson’s eyes were drilling into her back.

She felt it all the way to her core, and then some. Desperate to get her mind off him and back to business,

she stopped at a table full of hot young doctors, where she tapped her chin in consideration.

“Hello boys,” she purred. “Anyone want to play along?”

“As long as you’re bidding,” one of the men said. She grinned, and gave him her usual flippant answer.

“Already got a date, Doc.” It was a lie, but it helped fend off unwanted attention, and she didn’t care that

everyone in town thought she slept around. In no way could she qualify as a slut, having been with only

three men, one of them Carson. But her bad girl persona painted her as someone never to bring home to

mother, and that was just the thing that helped her keep people out. Past experiences proved that getting

close led to disappointment, and she wasn’t about to set herself up for that kind of failure. Now, the best

way she knew how to keep a measure of distance was by pretending to be something she wasn’t.

One of the men stood. She walked backward as she guided him to the front of the bar. She took over

from Andy, spinning the guy around to give the girls a good view of what they could purchase. Carson

stood poker straight, glaring at her, and every few seconds her glance darted to his. Good God, everything

about him threw her off her game.

Stop looking at him.

She was just about to ask for her first bid, when the scrape of a chair gained her attention. Her gaze

flew to Carson’s as he stepped from the shadows, clearing his way to the bar. There was an edgy rawness

about him, the domineering control of a man who went after what he wanted—and got it.

The pulse in her neck leaped, every nerve in her body alive as he closed the distance. His confident

strides, athletic body, and overwhelming presence captured the attention of the ladies in the room. They

began clapping, and Gemma swallowed the apprehension rising in her throat. What the hell was he doing?

She didn’t think for one second that he was offering himself up for auction. He was up to something.

He stepped up to her, his body close—too close. In a move that took her by surprise, he snatched the

handcuffs from her fingers and slipped one ring around her wrist and the other around his, linking them

together. His eyes darkened, the intensity of his baby blues stealing the oxygen from her lungs.

She gasped, and tried to tug away. His powerful hand grabbed hers, and she swallowed. God, those

hands. So big, strong…perfect. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He flashed perfect white teeth in a smile and turned to the crowd. Everything in his casual stance and

flirty, bad boy grin belied the steely determination in his eyes. “Gemma here has been putting everyone in

the hot seat tonight. What do you think? Is it time to give her a taste of her own medicine?”

The clapping from the crowd damn near deafened her. “Go for it, dude,” said the guy she’d just dragged

to the front of the bar. He slapped Carson on the shoulder, a knowing grin on his face. “Have fun,” he

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said, and turned to make his way back to his seat.

She struggled against him, and he pulled her tight. Her body quivered all over, and he dipped his head,

the telltale look in his eyes letting her know her body’s reactions hadn’t gone unnoticed. Dammit.

Everything about him rattled her control, and she really didn’t want him to know how much he affected

her.

Without ever taking his eyes off hers, he said, “One thousand dollars,” and if she weren’t cuffed to him,

she would have sunk to the floor in shock. He just bid one thousand dollars to take me on a date?

He either seriously wanted answers, or…something else. Her mind drifted. Perhaps what he was really

after was a repeat of the night they had together? She chewed on that for a moment and once again let her

gaze rake the length of him, a slow perusal that warmed her from the inside out. Heat gathered between

her legs, dampening her panties. When the hell was the last time she had a man in her bed, anyway?

Maybe a quick roll between the sheets was just what the doctor ordered.

As his obscene bid hovered over them, shocked surprise rippled through the room, followed by curious

chatter. Someone in the back started clapping, and Gemma peered into the dark ready to muzzle the whole

lot of them.

“Well done, Gemma,” a woman called out.

“You can have me for free,” someone else said.

“I am not for sale,” Gemma responded through clenched teeth. “I’m…I’m not…I don’t even work at the

hospital.”

“Two thousand,” Carson called out.

“Oh. My. God,” Andy said, stepping up to the two of them. Hands on her hips, Andy narrowed her eyes

—and then they widened like a lightbulb had gone off. “You’re…It’s you.” She looked from Carson to

Gemma back to Carson again. “We…”

“Yeah, that’s right. It’s me. Carson Reynolds,” he said. “And yes it was my party you crashed.”

“And now you’re crashing ours,” Gemma said, seething.

“Nope, just trying to raise money for your cause.” He dipped his head and pitched his voice low. “Are

you really going to say no to two thousand toward your charity?”

“Hell, no,” Andy blurted out.

“Andy,” Gemma warned. Carson’s deep, sexy voice reverberated through her and sent her pulse racing.

In no way was this about the charity. This was about the two of them and some unfinished business he

thought they had.

“You want me to keep going?” He cocked a brow. “We can do this all night, Gemma.”

She stared at him. Some juvenile part of her wanted to see how high he’d go—what the girl from the

wrong side of the tracks was worth to him—but there was another part that just wanted to put an end to

this.

“Three thousand,” he called out.

“Gemma,” Andy said, jumping back and forth from one foot to the other, like she was about to explode

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from excitement. “That’s a lot of freaking money.”

“And I’m not for sale.” She glared at Carson and tipped her chin up. “Besides I have a date tonight.”

“Break it.”

“I can’t—”

“Doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not my doctor,” she argued.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “Not yet.”

She laughed, despite the situation. “Are you seriously saying you want to play doctor with me, Sailor

Boy?”

“Four thousand,” he said, the outrageous amount showing her just how serious he was. “I’m not leaving

here until you agree to a date.”

“Do you always get what you want?”

“Yes.”

Honest to God, she’d imagined he was different. Thought he wasn’t the kind to throw money around to

get what he wanted. But maybe she’d been wrong about him, had based that idea on limited information.

Maybe he was just like every other rich guy she’d come across. He’d certainly seemed different back in

the day, caring, sincere. But then again, she hadn’t really known him, and time changed everyone. Heck,

for all she knew, he’d switched career paths for the money and stature. Maybe he was the kind of guy who

had a God complex and needed to feed his ego.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she put her hand up to stop him. Okay, this had gone on long enough.

Four thousand dollars was way more than she had in the bank—the beat-up car she drove around was

proof of that. Soon enough everyone would start to question what was really going on. Sure she was from

the wrong side of the tracks, but she had a delicate relationship with the women in this bar, this town.

They weren’t friends—her reputation prevented that—but they appreciated her jewelry, and a few even

carried it in their specialty boutiques. She didn’t want to raise suspicions or do anything to jeopardize her

business, or her relationship with this close-knit community.

She plastered on a smile and infused her voice with a lightness she didn’t feel. “Looks like we have a

hot one tonight. What do you say ladies? Should I accept Dr. Reynolds generous charitable offer?” she

asked, freezing him out with formalities and reminding everyone this was about the charity, not her.

“So, that’s a yes?” Andy asked, her big eyes wide and hopeful.

Gemma gave a curt nod, and Andy tapped the microphone and said, “Sold.” She gestured toward the

staff. “Let’s take a short break and refill our drinks.”

The noise level reached a new high as the waitresses made their rounds, taking drink and food orders.

Thankful the attention was off her, Gemma reached into her pocket for the key to the handcuffs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Carson asked.

She worked to insert the key, but her hands were shaking so hard she couldn’t get it into the lock.

“Getting us out of these things.”

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“Maybe I’m not ready to set you free.”

“Too bad.”

The key slipped from her hand, and they both bent down and reached for it at the same time. Fingers

brushed—intimate, soft—lingering a moment too long. She drew back like she’d been burned, but not

before she caught the clean scent of his skin again, a beautiful reminder of the night that was permanently

etched in her memory. Desire bombarded her, and she made a noise to cover the moan rising in her throat

as his hand closed over the key.

His gaze slid over hers, his eyes glistening invitingly. He slipped the key into the lock and freed them.

“Maybe I’ll hang on to these.” Handcuffs dangling from his finger, he bent forward, and put his mouth near

her ear, the warmth of his breath on her face eliciting a shiver. “I might want to use them later.”

She snatched them back and jumped up. “Maybe I’ll use them on you.” Having taken care of herself for

as long as she could remember, she was an independent woman, one who always called the shots. This

take-charge attitude of his flustered the hell out of her and teased the hungry ache between her legs.

He followed her up, straightening to his full height. A wicked grin tweaked the corners of his mouth. “If

that’s the way you want to play it, I’m game.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She shook her head. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

“Bid on me. I’m not interested in rekindling anything with you.”

“What makes you think this was all about you? I’m just trying to help out with your cause.” He pushed

one hand into his pocket, looking for all the world like he was nothing more than a generous benefactor.

But she knew better. Mr. Innocent, he was not. “You weren’t auctioning any women, and I wasn’t about to

bid on some dude.”

“Why not? It’s for a good cause.”

“Yeah, but I like a date who can hold her own, one who is a little rough and tough.”

“You’re saying these guys aren’t rough and tough?”

He gave her a lopsided grin, and a laugh escaped her before she could stop it. “Not like you, they’re

not.” His warm hand caressed her waist. “But don’t worry, there’s a cure for that.”

She eyed him, refusing to let him know his touch turned her to putty. “Oh, yeah? And what might that

remedy be? You?”

His fingers splayed, and a flash of heat moved through her. Instead of answering, he asked, “Ready?”

She pushed on his shoulder to send him away, but he didn’t budge. Cripes, she’d have a better chance

of moving an eighteen-wheeler with her finger than him. Rock solid and full of rigid determination, he

stood there waiting like he had all the time in the world.

“Sorry, Sailor Boy, but I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone.” She tapped the podium. “I still have work

to do so you might want to go home and get a good night’s sleep. You look like you could use it.”

Instead of backing off, he stepped closer, the blue in his eyes darkening and derailing her ability to think

with clarity. “I’ve waited ten years, Gemma. Tired or not, a few more hours aren’t going to hurt.”

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Shit, she wished he wouldn’t stand so close. It was messing with her last working brain cell. “When I

get done here, I have to take Gracie for a walk.”

He arched a brow. “Gracie?”

“My guard dog,” she explained, and twirled the handcuffs around her fingers.

“I like dogs.”

“She doesn’t like men. If you get within five feet of her, she’ll probably bite.”

“With a name like Gracie, she doesn’t sound like she’d hurt a fly.”

“I never said she had anything against flies,” she replied, her voice light, teasing.

What the hell am I doing?

She was a known flirt, but the last guy she should be playing games with was Carson.

He laughed, amusement lingering in his eyes when he said, “I’ll take my chances.”

She gave a casual shrug, enjoying the easy banter between them more than she would have liked. “Fine

then, don’t blame me if she takes your leg off.”

“Leg or no legs, you’re having dinner with me.”

“I don’t remember you being so bossy.”

He arched a brow, the look in his eyes challenging. “Oh, so now you remember something about me, do

you?”

“No…yes…I mean…” Shit. Of course she remembered. Ten long years had passed, and she still

couldn’t forget his kisses, the soft sweep of his hands on her body—gentle one minute, greedy the next.

Arousal wound through her just from the memories.

Honest to God, how she was going to make it through a date with him without wanting an encore was

beyond her.

Wait. Why the hell couldn’t she just get him naked and have her way with him—again? Why not satisfy

a curiosity—what would he be like in bed after all these years—and scratch the itch that still stirred deep

within her. Once he demonstrated that he cared only about himself and his needs, she’d be able to forget

about him once and for all, and get on with her life.

Or not.

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Chapter Three

With the auction finished and the bar empty, Carson shouldered his backpack and followed Gemma

outside. He stood in the parking lot while she locked the door behind them. Darkness had fallen over the

town, the only illumination coming from a nearby streetlamp. She turned to him and tilted her head, a

defiant gleam in her big brown eyes.

“It’s late. Are you sure you still want to do this?”

As tired as he was, he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight, not after finally finding her. “I’m sure.”

He looked over his shoulders and scanned the empty parking lot. His car was still at the hospital. With no

other vehicle in sight, she had to be traveling by foot, and while the neighborhood was fairly safe, the idea

of her walking alone at night didn’t sit well with him.

“Can I give you a lift?”

“I’d rather walk.”

“Okay,” he said, turning toward the tree-lined walkway that wove past the hospital and through the core

of downtown. He took three steps then stopped. Why wasn’t she following? He craned his neck to see her.

“I thought you wanted to walk.”

She pointed up. “I live in the loft upstairs.”

“Oh.” Carson spun and followed her gaze. A narrow set of stairs on the side of the building led to the

upper floor apartment. He hadn’t noticed it before now. “Do you want me to wait here while you get

Gracie, or do you want me to come up?”

She shrugged and hiked her purse higher on her shoulder. “It’ll take me a few minutes to get changed so

I guess you can come up and wait.”

He arched brow. “Oh yeah?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” She narrowed her eyes and glared at him. “I’m just changing my clothes and

getting my dog.”

He stepped in toward her, their bodies close but not touching. “Ideas?” He softened his words and

coiled one long strand of her hair around his finger. “What kind of ideas do you think I might have,

Gemma?”

She tugged away from him. “Oh, that I have ulterior motives for inviting you up.”

“Such as?”

“You’re a smart guy. I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.”

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“Apparently you do,” he teased, holding his hands up, palms out to display his innocence. “I wasn’t

suggesting anything other than coming up to wait.” She was right, of course. He did have all kinds of dirty

thoughts and ideas about what the two of them could do inside her apartment. Feigning insult, he scoffed.

“I think maybe you’re the one with the ideas. How do I know you’re not trying to get me alone to have

your way with me?”

She shook her head. “Are you always so annoying?”

He laughed. “Annoying? Women have called me a lot of things. You know, like hot stuff, adorable, and

stud muffin… But annoying was never one of them.”

“Stud muffin? Who calls you that, your grandmother?”

“Jesus, that’s just wrong.” He made a face like he’d just sucked a lemon. “What kind of weirdo are you

anyway?” he teased. “Grandma would never say something like that to her grandson.”

“Her friend, then? Someone older.”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”

“Then what exactly would you say?”

He kicked at an imaginary pebble. “I’m pretty sure Ethel is at least a year younger than Grandma.”

Gemma laughed. “Come on, Stud Muffin,” she said, and then mumbled something else under her breath

and started up the steep flight of stairs. He followed behind, her sexy body dragging every dirty idea he

ever had to the forefront of his brain. Her skirt lifted with each step, exposing the soft swell of her tanned

backside. Christ, did she sunbathe in the nude? A groan caught in his throat, and she stopped and turned.

“What now?”

He coughed. “I’m not complaining, but you might want to wear panties with that uniform.”

She ran her hand over the back of her skirt, smoothing it over her luscious ass, and scowled at him. “I

am wearing panties. Maybe you should just stop looking so hard.”

He adjusted his pants. No sense in hiding what she did to him. “Key word being hard, Gemma.”

She glared at him, but he didn’t miss the twitch in her lips. “This is dinner and nothing more. Just so

we’re clear, I don’t owe you anything other than that.”

“Right. Dinner. I know.” He coughed again. “But just so you’re clear, I do want to have sex with you

again. I don’t believe in playing games, unless of course handcuffs are involved, so I figured I might as

well get that right out there in the open.”

A beat of silence, and then, “I appreciate your honesty, but I’m not having sex with you, Carson.”

His cock twitched at her feeble protest. “Say that again.”

“I’m not having sex with you, Carson.”

“No, just that last part.”

She eyed him and her sweet pink tongue snaked out and brushed over her bottom lip. Was she trying to

kill him?

“Carson.”

“Yeah, that’s it. I want you to say it just like that when I’m inside you.” He kept his expression deadpan

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when her mouth dropped open in a silent O. He probably shouldn’t be trying to rattle her, but she was just

so damn sexy when she was thrown off her game—and yeah, she was playing with him as much as he was

playing with her. There was a connection between them whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not. The

push/ pull was palpable, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to use everything in his arsenal to explore

it further.

She blinked several times and then gave him a punch on the shoulder. He slipped down a step and

grabbed the rail to hold on. Damn, those boney knuckles hurt like hell. He rubbed his arm, but he liked

that she could take care of herself.

“What was that for?”

“Oh, like you don’t know.” He shrugged like he had no idea what she was talking about. “Okay, that’s

it. You deserve this.” She fished her keys from her pocket, darted up the steps, and opened her door.

“Gracie,” she called out, and the biggest, ugliest pit bull he’d ever set eyes on came barreling down the

stairs toward him.

“Holy shit.” He nearly fell when the dog rammed her nose into his crotch. He gripped the rail harder,

and winced as she buried her face between his legs as if she was settling in for the winter, or a late night

snack. A growl rumbled in Gracie’s throat, and pain shot through him. He bent forward and cursed,

bracing himself for the loss of his manhood.

“Gracie,” Gemma called, a note of panic in her voice as she slapped her leg. “Here, girl.”

Gracie backed off his crotch, and one large mitt the size of a baseball glove pawed gently—playfully—

at his shoulder. So, she wasn’t after his balls? Carson reached for her paw when a long wet tongue

swished across his face—his mouth specifically.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “Jesus,” he cursed. Gracie was the last one he thought

he’d be French kissing tonight. Her tail beat against the wooden steps, her whole body curving and

snaking with excitement. Some guard dog she was turning out to be.

“Gracie,” Gemma said again, her voice firm. “I said come here.”

Gracie spun and ran back up the stairs, and Carson took a minute to catch his breath. “So, that’s Gracie,

the man-eater.”

“You okay?” Gemma asked, skipping back down the steps, the vibrations going straight to his aching

testicles.

“Of course I’m not okay. I nearly lost my balls.” He put his hand between his legs to make sure they

were still there. One. Two. Thank God.

“I’m sorry, Carson. She gets excited at times, but honestly, she wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Yeah, we’ve already established that. She likes flies, hates men.” Gemma sank onto the step, and he

lifted his head to find her hand over her mouth, working to stifle a chuckle.

“I never expected her to do that,” she said.

Her eyes glistened, and it was all he could do not to pull her hands away, kiss that sweet mouth of hers,

and turn her laugh into a moan. “You think this is funny?” he asked, his voice unnaturally high.

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“No.” The one word was muffled behind her palm. He liked seeing her relaxed like this. Like that night

so long ago. No facade, no lies, no performances. Damned if he didn’t want that again—just once.

Carson sucked in a breath. “She nearly turned me into a eunuch.”

She rolled her eyes at him and laughed harder. “I hardly think so.”

He straightened and groaned. “Does she greet all guys like this?”

“I don’t normally…”

She stopped speaking, as if she’d said too much. But the implication was there. She didn’t normally

bring guys home. Why the fuck did that make him so happy? He just wanted to have sex with her again.

Heck, maybe a dozen more times while he was home for the summer. Then he’d have her out of his system

and move on, like he always did. He wasn’t sure why he had such a restlessness inside him, but he never

liked to stay in one spot too long. Fortunately for him, his career allowed him to move around to different

ERs whenever he got the itch to leave.

“Can we go inside so I can sit?”

She reached for his arm and put it around her shoulder. “Here let me help you.”

He didn’t need the help, but he’d be an idiot to refuse it. He slipped his arm from her shoulder and slid

it around her waist, enjoying her soft curves as she guided him inside. Gracie sat on a plush dog bed, her

tail thumping, eager for attention.

“I’ll be right back.” Gemma pointed at one of the two chairs at her small dinette set. Worry shadowed

her eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.” She turned to Gracie and wagged her finger. “Gracie, you play nice.”

Carson stood there and let his gaze move around her place. The wide-open loft consisted of a

kitchenette, a two-person table full of stones and jewels, and a compact living room that contained only a

worn leather sofa, coffee table, and a small television.

“How long have you lived here?” He shrugged his backpack off and set it by the table.

“I’m just here for the summer.”

He dropped into a chair, and adjusted his pants over his aching balls. “Yeah, me too.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I just got into town, and I’m staying at my parents’ cottage until I find a place. They’ll be moving

in for the summer next week. You at least remember that place don’t you?” he teased.

“Vaguely,” she replied.

He looked over the jewels and tools scattered on her table, picking up a stone and examining it more

closely. Did she make jewelry? “So you’re just working at the bar for the summer?”

“Yeah, for some extra cash. I’m subletting my apartment in Brooklyn for the summer. Janice offered me

this loft rent-free so I jumped on it. Andy used to live here, but she and Janice just moved into a house not

too far from here.”

“Janice?”

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“Andy’s mom. She bought Score a few years back. She used to work at the hospital and saw a need for

good nutritious food for the staff. Apparently if you’re not a patient at the hospital, you soon would be

after eating the cafeteria food.”

He laughed. “I’ll remember that. Is Andy a nurse?” She was dressed in nursing scrubs at the bar. But

then again, Gemma was dressed as a naughty nurse. So far, only the naughty part applied.

“Yup, she followed in her mother’s footsteps,” Gemma called out, bringing him back to the present.

At the mention of mothers, he thought of his own, and his gut clenched. He was looking forward to

seeing his folks, but another summer of them trying to marry him off gave him a rash. He’d do just about

anything to get them off his back.

“What about you?” He picked up a ring and placed it in his palm. The piece was intricate and

interesting. “Did you follow in your mother’s footsteps?”

Silence. He glanced down the small hall and caught a glimpse of Gemma moving around inside the

bedroom, stripping off her nurse’s uniform and pulling clothes from her dresser. The gentleman in him

urged him to look the other way; the man in him told that guy to fuck the hell off. His teeth snapped as he

clenched his jaw and focused on the dog. Fuck me. He went down on one knee and cupped Gracie’s face.

“No,” she finally said, and from the pain behind that one word, Carson suspected he’d hit a sore spot.

“I’m a jeweler.”

Dropping the subject for the time being, he rubbed Gracie’s ears, and she pushed against him. “Hey,

girl,” he said. “You like that?” Gracie whined. “It’s like this—you be nice to me, and I’ll be nice to you.

So next time I come, leave the balls alone, no French kissing, and I’ll give you an ear rub.”

“Do you have a dog?” she called out.

“No, I always wanted one, but I’m never in one place long enough. Plus I work long hours. It wouldn’t

be fair to any pet.”

He gave Gracie another rub and climbed to his feet. “How long have you had her?”

“Just a couple years. She’s a rescue dog. I wasn’t lying when I said she wasn’t that fond of men.” A

rustling sound reached his ears and he resisted the urge to steal a peek. “She’d never bite or anything, but

when I have her at the park, she growls at the guys, especially the bigger ones. I think her previous owner

was a man. Strange that she likes you.”

His fingers clenched. Any person who’d hurt an animal was the lowest form of life. What the fuck was

wrong with people?

“You okay?”

Her voice was close this time, and he turned to find her standing a few feet away. “What?”

Her gaze moved over his face, and he scrubbed the stubble on his chin. She blinked up at him. “You

look like you want to kick something.”

“Yeah, the guy that hurt her.”

Gemma went quiet for a moment, thoughtful, her lips curving into a smile. He seized that minute to let

his gaze drop. He took in tight jeans that hugged her curves, and a white, V-neck T-shirt that exposed the

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soft swell of her breasts. She came closer, and he grew rigid with arousal when he caught the floral scent

of her shampoo. Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe her. Sure, she was hot in her nurse uniform, but

seeing her in her casual clothes, relaxed and real, was just about the sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen.

“You might want to grab a sweater. It’s cooling off,” he said, before all his blood rushed to his dick.

“That reminds me.” She rushed to her room and came back with his Nautica hoodie.

His brain stalled for a moment. “Is that—?”

“Yeah.”

“You kept it all these years.” He shook his head. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s a perfectly good sweater, Carson.” Her long hair fell forward, shadowing her face as she

examined the hoodie. “Why would I throw it out?”

“Are you some kind of hoarder?” Or did the sweater have meaning to her, and she couldn’t bring

herself to toss it? Had she been thinking of him over the years as much as he’d been thinking of her?

She held it out to him. “You can have it back.”

He took it from her and lifted it. It looked worn and well used. “I’ve grown since I was nineteen. This

isn’t going to fit. Here, you wear it.” He tugged it over her head, and she slipped into it. It was big and

baggy and she looked absolutely adorable in it. “It looks better on you.”

A light pink tinge brushed her cheek. “Let me grab Gracie’s leash, and we’ll go.”

At the sound of her name, Gracie’s tail wagged. “You like that, do you, girl?” Carson asked, petting her

head.

Gemma came back and ran her hand over Gracie’s neck, hooking the leash to her collar. She bent at the

waist, the fantasy inspiring position messing with his last working brain cell, and for a brief moment their

fingers connected. His glance shot to hers to find her staring back, and the mood changed, shifted. He

leaned closer, listened to the variations in her breathing. Fuck, he needed to kiss her.

She straightened, breaking the connection, the moment. “All set?

“Yeah. But isn’t there something you need to do first?”

She cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes in warning. “Such as?”

“Don’t you have a date to break?”

Confusion moved over her face, then she nodded quickly. “Right, I forgot.” She grabbed her phone from

her purse, and he stood back watching carefully as her fingers raced over the screen. “All good,” she

said, dropping it on to the table.

“Should I expect a jealous boyfriend to come rushing in here after me?” He flexed his bicep.

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure it won’t come to that. Nor do I want it to.”

“Why not?”

“Are you forgetting how much little old Gracie freaked you out?”

“Pit bull, Gemma. Sharp teeth.”

“So you’re, uh…” She crinkled her nose and pointed to his crotch. “Feeling better?”

“I think the swelling is down.” At least in his balls.

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“I really am sorry.” She frowned. “I honestly didn’t expect her to do that. I think you were just standing

at the right position on the steps for her height.”

“More like the wrong position.” She laughed and opened the door. Pulling himself together, he

followed her out, and she locked up behind them. “I think she was just a dog being a dog. She needed to

check me out first, make sure I didn’t have any bad intentions.” Which of course he did. Gracie wagged

her tail. “See, she agrees.”

He brushed his hand along her back. Sweet pit bull, Gracie. She was all kinds of contradictions, much

like her owner. Tough as nails one minute, soft and vulnerable the next. Gemma could act the aloof bad

girl all she wanted, but she was forgetting who she was trying to fool. He’d been there that night she gave

herself to him. He’d glimpsed the scared and lonely girl behind the mask. One who’d just needed to be

held—by him—and then let her vulnerability show through.

Gemma smiled. “I can’t believe she likes you.”

“At least that makes one of you,” he teased.

“I never said I didn’t like you. I said I wasn’t sleeping with you.”

He arched a brow. “So you like me, then?”

“Are you twelve?”

He laughed. “So, that’s a yes?”

“I don’t even know you.” She made her way down the stairs.

“We can rectify that.”

“How, by having sex again?”

“What is it with you and sex?” He scoffed. “That’s all you can seem to talk about tonight. Sex. Sex. Sex.

One track mind, much?” She punched him in the arm, and he winced. “Why again is it you don’t want to

have sex?”

“Because we can’t.”

“Can’t?” He laughed. “Pretty sure we can.”

“How about this then. I don’t want to.”

He nodded, even though he didn’t believe her. “Okay.” When she’d come on to him that night, she

needed something from him, something more than sex. He spent ten years wondering about that, and would

get to the bottom of it, eventually.

Her gaze shot to his, examining his face carefully.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look like you’ve got something to say, Gemma.”

“I do. Last one to the park is a rotten egg.”

He laughed. “Now who’s twelve?”

Gracie barked, and Gemma took off running with her. Carson stood there, his gaze locked on Gemma’s

sweet ass, one that he’d be cradling later tonight if he got his way—and he usually did. She bolted across

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the street to the dark park, lit only by a few scattered lanterns. As tired as he was, he picked up the pace

and ran after her.

She was laughing and breathless by the time he caught up. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in

tight. She instantly sobered, the air around them charging. He looked over her face, taking in the

exhaustion backlighting her dark eyes. Shit. He’d been so hell-bent on spending time with her, he hadn’t

stopped to consider her situation. She’d probably been on her feet all day.

“If you’re tired, we can cancel,” he said. “Maybe I should go home and get that good night’s sleep you

suggested.”

“Forget it, Sailor Boy.” She poked his chest. “You’re here now, and we’re getting this over with.

Besides I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Okay, but how about we skip the restaurant, do something a little more laid back.”

She eyed him skeptically. “Such as?”

“I can grab a pizza and we can go back to your place.”

Her lips twisted. “Better yet, let’s go back to yours.”

“Fine. I’ll drive.”

“I’ll take my own car. I’ll follow you, since I don’t know the way.”

He grinned, knowing full well what she was up to—and that she knew the way. If they went to her

place, she couldn’t run away. From his place, however, she could once again sneak out under the cover of

darkness.

Maybe he’d need those handcuffs after all.

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Chapter Four

Gemma shoved her car into third, grinding the old gears as she sped along the quiet streets, following

Carson back to his parents’ summer home. To them it might be a cottage, but to her it was a mansion. With

a view of the ocean and its own private beach, it was one of the nicest places in the Hamptons.

She knew the way to the cottage, of course. She’d only fibbed because she didn’t want him to know

she’d thought about him over the years. Many times while out for a drive, she found herself cruising past

his place, wondering what had happened to the boy she’d spent a few precious hours with. But she didn’t

want him to know any of that, or give him the impression that she was interested in any sort of

relationship.

Sex, on the other hand…

He pulled into the driveway of her favorite pizza place, and she waited in her car while he ran in to

pick up the order. She jacked up the tunes and beat her fingers on her steering wheel as Carson darted

inside. Her gaze moved over his body, and even though she’d told him she wasn’t having sex with him,

she was pretty sure she was going to.

Why am I so weak when it comes to him?

He came back out carrying a huge cardboard box and a bag with their drinks. Her stomach chose that

moment to growl, and she was grateful for the quiet evening. After a long day, getting dressed up to go to

a fancy restaurant didn’t sound all that fun. This was way better, and she was happy he’d suggested it.

She jammed her stick shift back into gear and followed him home. A long curving driveway led to the

front of the house, but he drove around back and stopped in the rear lot near a three-car garage. She

parked behind him, her car positioned and ready for takeoff. Carson walked to her door to meet her, and

she climbed out and locked up behind herself.

He grinned. “I don’t think anyone is going to steal your car.”

Leaving her sweater and purse in the car, she dropped her key into her pocket and ran her hand along

the car’s spray painted hood. “Habit. Plus look at it, it’s an antique.”

“Oh, it’s an antique all right.” Laughing, he nudged her into motion with his shoulder. “Come on, let me

feed you.”

She fell into step with him and walked along the path to the back entrance. Memories from the last time

she’d been here, when Carson had saved her from the frat boy who’d spiked her drink, flashed through her

mind. She recalled the fight between the two, the crash of furniture, and the gorgeous hand carved model

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sailboat that had broken under the other boy’s body weight. But what she remembered the most was the

way Carson had cared for her—the first man in her life to display protectiveness.

Pushing down those emotions, she turned her focus to the lit pool. It looked so inviting—a far cry from

the cement view from her Brooklyn apartment. She’d told Carson she was here for the summer, and that

was true. But she hadn’t admitted that her lease expired at the end of August and she wouldn’t be

renewing. Rent had gone up and she needed to find another place, a cheaper one. If she didn’t move more

jewelry and increase inventory, she was going to end up crashing at her mother’s. A sigh fluttered past her

lips. She loved her mother, she really did, but she’d rather sleep with Gracie in her doghouse than move

in with her mom and her flavor of the month.

“You want to swim?” Carson asked. He touched her forehead. “You feel warm, feverish almost.” Yeah,

she was hot, and they both knew the real reason behind her flushed skin. “So, what do you say?” he asked.

She shook her head. “As nice as that sounds, I don’t have a suit.”

“You look to be about the same size as Crystal. I’m sure she has something in the pool house that would

fit you.”

Who the hell was Crystal? Girlfriend? Wife? Her glance fell to his ring finger, and found it empty.

These days, however, that meant nothing. And come to think of it, she really didn’t know that much about

him. He could be a total womanizer with a family on the side. “Crystal?”

“My younger sister.”

Ah. “No, that’s okay.”

“Fine then. No suit.”

He set the pizza and bag on the long patio table, grabbed her by the waist, and in one smooth movement,

jumped into the pool, taking her in with him.

She came up sputtering, and he swam away before she could give him another knuckle punch.

“Carson,” she yelled, dragging her hair off her face. “What the hell?”

“You said you wanted to swim.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to do it with my clothes on.”

He grinned and pushed his hair off his face. “It’s not too late to take them off.”

“You’re going to pay for this.” She dove under the water to go after him, but when she reached him, he

dipped below the surface, and slid his hand around her back. He dragged her close, and her hard nipples

brushed over his chest. Warm and wicked sensations moved through her, settling deep between her legs.

They came up for air, both panting heavily, but she was sure it had nothing to do with holding their

breaths. Strong fingers went to her face, and he lightly brushed her cheek, pushing her wet hair away. His

gaze settled on her mouth, his thumb caressing her bottom lip, the look in his eyes ravenous.

“Carson.”

“Yeah.”

“We should get out.”

“Okay,” he said, but neither moved.

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The cool water seeped into her skin, but she felt nothing but warmth. A tightness lodged in her throat at

the way he was touching her, and a restless ache trickled through her blood. She swayed against him, her

synapses no longer firing. He lowered his head, his lips close to hers, and she took deep choppy breaths,

waiting for contact…wishing for it. His scent overwhelmed her, and in that instant, she had a brief

moment of clarity. This was Carson she was messing with, the one guy she knew she should steer clear of.

Apprehension surged inside her, the warning bells ringing loud and clear.

He has the right ammunition to hurt me.

She wanted to say something, to put an end to this dangerous game they were playing, before she found

herself in an emotional place she had no intention of going—ever—but the only thing that came out of her

mouth was an unintelligible moan.

He must have taken that as a sign of consent. Long fingers slid through her hair as his mouth found hers.

The brush of his tongue over her bottom lip swept away her protest, and the second both lips connected

with hers, she broke and nearly shattered under his touch, wanting this, wanting him. Right here, right

now.

She leaned into him, enjoying his hardness against her softness, and he backed her up until she was

pressed against the side of the pool. The kiss deepened, quickened, his tongue sliding in to find hers, a hot

discovery that seemed to trigger a reaction from him.

“Christ,” he panted. “I waited ten long years to do that again, and believe me, it was worth it.” His

tongue slid over his bottom lip. “Sweet. So fucking sweet. Way better than I ever remembered.”

Her nipples poked through her lace bra, and she pulled her T-shirt away from her skin. It made a

sucking sound that drew his attention. He glanced down, his eyes watchful, famished, as a telltale groan

crawled out of his throat. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

He touched her shirt, rubbed the material between his fingers. “We need to get you out of these wet

clothes.”

Their gazes met, held, the unasked question lingering in the air. He wanted her naked beneath him. No

questions about it. Well, hell, she wanted that, too.

“That’s probably a good idea.” She let her gaze slide to the pool house. “Do you think your sister has

some clothes in there that might fit me?”

He exhaled a shuddery breath because they both knew what she was really asking. His arms went

around her waist, and he lifted her clear out of the water and onto the concrete deck. She climbed to shaky

feet as he hoisted himself out and slid up her body. His wet button-down shirt clung to muscles that had

shaped and grown over the years, and her fingers itched, desperate to touch him, to feel his nakedness.

Strong hands captured hers and gave a tug. She blindly followed him, so aroused and needy she was

ready to go anywhere he wanted to take her. Water dripped from their clothes and soaked the decking as

they made their way to the pool house, their bodies close, touching intimately, an electric exchange of heat

sizzling in the air.

Gemma took deep breaths, her mind spinning, her body wound tight. After ten long years, was this

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really happening again? Carson stopped at the door and reached overhead. He surfed along the wooden

frame and came back with a key. He slipped it into the lock, jiggled it a bit, and ushered her inside. A

quiver moved through her at the sound of the bolt sliding into place behind him. Her breath caught as he

locked the world out and her in.

She glanced around and memories bombarded her. Her gaze raced over the shelves filled with neatly

folded towels. Lifejackets hung from the numerous hooks, and against the wall there was a mocha-colored

sofa flanked by two wooden chairs, the seats water damaged from years of wet bathing suits. The last

time she’d been in here, the place had no furniture, no soft sofa for her first intimate encounter. Her gaze

fell to the floor, to the spot Carson had once taken her. He came up behind her, his hands on her arms,

rubbing them to create heat as his body pressed insistently against hers.

The warmth of his breath elicited a shiver as his mouth went to her ear. “We can go inside, to my

bedroom. My folks aren’t expected to arrive until next week.”

“No,” she said. Somehow, inside felt too personal. Being out here in the pool house, nowhere near the

soft bed that held his scent, would allow her to keep a measure of emotional distance. She hoped.

He pulled her wet hair off her neck, and his soft lips found a spot that rendered her nearly senseless. A

shiver moved through her, but he must have mistaken it. “You’re freezing. You need to undress.”

She turned, and the hunger in his eyes filled her with a new kind of need. Her fingers went to the hem of

her T-shirt and she gave a tug to peel it over her head. Her bra was thin, a lacy Victoria’s Secret push-up.

A secret indulgence that she wore for herself. It made her feel sexy, but it did little to hide her arousal.

Carson swallowed, his eyes trained on her body.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. He unbuttoned his shirt. She stared at his chest as he shrugged out of the

wet fabric and tossed it to the corner. Two steps brought him close, and he ran the backs of his hands

down her arms. God, she loved the way he touched her, looked at her, but she wished he weren’t being so

tender. She moved against him, her hips grinding ever so slightly, letting him know in no uncertain terms

this was just sex.

His thumb slipped under her bra strap, and his touch was soft as he toyed with the lace, brushing her

skin ever so seductively. He slipped it from her shoulder and pressed his lips to her skin, the bristles on

his chin scratching her flesh. Tomorrow morning she’d be chafed, once again wearing his mark.

“As pretty as this is on you, I need you out of it.”

She reached behind her back and released the clasp, slowly baring herself to him. The bra loosened

around her breasts, and Carson eased it from her body, adding it to the pile forming in the corner. His

muscles flexed, the room growing heavy with the tension arching between them. Long fingers gripped her

rib cage, his thumb caressing the soft swell of her breasts.

“You are so gorgeous,” he whispered.

One hand cupped the back of her head, and he dropped his mouth to hers. Her pulse leaped as she

kissed him back with naked desire. His tongue found hers, and he delved deeper. Heat zinged through her,

hitting every erogenous spot on the way to her sex. He didn’t kiss like other men. No, his kisses were

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sweet, pure, and achingly tender. But underneath the gentleness there was a domineering strength, a

control that held her in place, and excited her far too much.

She moaned, and he responded by breaking the kiss and pressing his lips to her neck. Her shaky hands

went to his wet hair, and she bit back an impatient sigh, every nerve in her body alive, so ready to be

taken by him. She raked her fingers through his hair, following the movement of his head as it dipped

lower, kissing her body with a controlled hunger that no man had ever before displayed. She’d only been

with two other guys, but every time she found herself in one of their beds, the sex had been fast and a bit

sloppy, her needs the least of their concerns. It was no wonder she’d turned to her battery-operated friend

for her basic female needs. Until now. Until Carson.

But she couldn’t think about that at this moment, not when he was zeroing in on one breast. She arched

into him, offering him her body as his hot mouth closed over one nipple.

“Yes,” she murmured.

He made a torturously slow pass with the soft blade of his tongue, the contact so intimate and profound

she feared it could break her. A moan caught in her throat as he sucked her in deeper, until little hollows

pulled at his cheeks. As her body shook, he sank to his knees, kissing a drunken path down her quivering

flesh. His nostrils flared as he released the button on her jeans. Pleasure gathered in her core as he tugged

the wet material down her legs. She lifted one foot and then the other, helping him remove it. Dressed

only in her lace panties, she stood there before him, naked, needy, more desperate for his touch than she

should have been.

He went back on his heels. “I need to look at you.”

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “Can you hurry?”

“I don’t want to hurry.” Slow movements brought him to his feet—tall and broad, a rock solid man who

seemed hell bent on taking his time with her. Torturous. His fingers touched her throat, a gentle slide.

“You have the softest skin.” The blue in his eyes deepened as his gaze tracked the hand he was running

down her body, stroking between her breasts and stopping only when he reached the lacy band of her

panties. “I’ve waited ten years, Gemma. I plan to make tonight last.”

“Carson,” she pleaded, the urgency in her voice leaving no question that she was ready for him—now.

“No, Gemma. You were a virgin when you came to me ten years ago. I didn’t know it until too late, and

I swore the next time I had you in my bed, I’d be more careful with you. I’d make it good for you.”

“You don’t think you made it good?” She blinked. How could he think that? He’d been so sweet and

giving, a boy with hands more skilled and generous than either of the grown men she’d been with since.

“Carson, it might have been my first time, but…” she stopped herself before she admitted too much. “It

was good for me. Believe me when I tell you that.”

“No. It wasn’t. But tonight I’m going to show you what good really is, Gemma.”

Her legs wobbled, and she braced herself. He was wrong, of course. The sex had been good, but if he

came at her with those deft doctor’s hands, combined with every talent he’d developed over the last

decade, it could very well take another ten years, and then some, to get her head back on straight.

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Moonlight filtered in through the small window and fell over him. His eyes glistened as he looked his

fill, his gaze like a hot caress—intimate, soft, full of urgent need. The tightness in her throat made it hard

to swallow. No man had ever looked at her like that before. If she wasn’t careful, she could develop

deeper feelings for him. It’s just sex, Gemma. Good sex. Nothing more. Nothing less.

His fingers went to his wet pants, and he popped the button. The zipper hissed in the silence, and her

attention dropped to the hard bulge straining against his boxers. He shoved his pants down, and kicked

them away. Damn, he had a beautiful body.

Driven by a need to touch him, she put her hands on his chest and his strong heartbeat pounded against

her palm. She squeezed his rippling muscles, and he sucked in a sharp breath. It cut through the silence

and fell over her body like a wave of lust. Eager to feel all of him, her hands slid over his stomach, going

lower to press against his steel erection.

She traced the length of him with her finger, and his breathing changed. “I want to see you, too,” she

murmured.

“You will.” One step brought him closer, and he placed his hands on her hips. Big fingers tugged at her

panties. “But I need these off first, Gemma. I need to see every inch of you naked before we go any

further.” She nodded and reached for her panties but he stopped her. “Let me.”

He tugged them from her hips, his movements so excruciating slow, the sweet torture so painfully

intense, she was seconds from climbing into his arms and begging him to just fuck her already. The tip of

his thumb brushed her clit as he sank to his knees and dragged the scrap of lace down. Her sex rippled

with want, and she pushed against him, but one big hand gripped her hip to hold her in place.

“Stay still,” he commanded in a soft voice. “Just stand there. I need to look and touch, and I don’t want

you to move while I do it.”

She wasn’t sure what turned her on more, moving against his thumb or having him restrain her while he

took her all in. Both came with their own pleasure. Flames surged inside her, her internal temperature

rising as she took deep, gulping breaths. The lace tickled her inner thighs as he slowly, methodically,

stripped her of her panties. Once he had her completely bared, he slid his hands up her thighs, coming

perilously close to the spot that craved his touch. Her breath caught, and her composure wavered as he

reintroduced himself to her, so painstakingly slow that if he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to go up

in a burst of flames. He breathed her in, tasted her skin, then withdrew his tongue.

“More,” she whispered.

His body shifted, his eyes going to hers. “You need this, Gemma. Don’t you?”

Silence stretched for a moment. Don’t admit to anything . She repeated the mantra, but when he started

to inch back, panic invaded. “Yes,” she answered quickly. She cupped his head, urging him to continue.

“Tell me you need it as much as I do.” His hoarse voice stroked her in spots so deep she could have

climaxed simply from listening to him.

“I need it, Carson. As much as you do,” she admitted. The bone deep want inside her wouldn’t allow

her to lie.

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“Good.” With renewed purpose, he turned his attention to her body. Taking full possession, he stroked

her with his warm tongue, leaving a wet path as he trailed it lower. His mouth found her heat, and with

one little lick, he shattered her so completely she feared she might give away a piece of herself, something

she wasn’t offering and he wasn’t asking for.

“Carson,” she murmured, damn near frantic for him to do something, anything, before she melted at his

feet.

His tongue left her sex, and he glanced up at her. “Yeah, say it just like that.”

“Carson,” she said again, all but yelling at him to get back to doing what he was so clearly good at.

She’d call his name out like a broken record for the rest of the night if that was what it would take. His

mouth found her sex again, and she let loose a loud moan of approval. “Yes, Carson, that’s so good.” He

rewarded her with a slow, sensuous pass over her clit. As he tasted her with skilled precision, she knew

without question that the boy had grown into a man, and had perfected his performance over the years.

Breathless, she combed her fingers through his hair and held his mouth to her sex, her legs barely

keeping her upright. A soft lick, followed by a hard stroke, deepened her desire. One finger slipped inside

her, and she grew slicker.

She fought the urge to squirm as he took possession of her body and greedily drew her clit into his

mouth. Her lashes fell shut against the pleasure. So much pleasure.

“Just like that,” she said, her voice a breathless whisper. Not that he needed instructions. He knew just

how to touch her body and take her to the precipice in record time.

One thick finger pressed deeply, sending her higher and higher, and with the second, he applied a bit

more pressure to the hot bundle of nerves inside her. She exhaled the last bit of air in her lungs and

tumbled into an orgasm.

“Oh, yes…” she cried out, all composure gone. Her muscles clenched, and she concentrated on the

points of pleasure, riding each delicious wave as it crashed over her with crushing pressure.

He stayed between her trembling legs, stroking her gently, then tilted his head back and looked up at

her, a sexy grin on his face. He slid up her body, and she breathed in his clean scent. His arms circled her

waist, and she sagged against him, craving the sensation of his skin against hers. The rapid-fire beat of his

strong heart against her cheek told her just how much he wanted her, just how close his patience was to an

end.

With a quick flick of her tongue, she dampened her lips and pressed them to his body, feeling a

desperate need to see him come undone. The saltiness of his skin aroused her all over again. She tasted

him, savored his flavor on her tongue as she reveled in his warmth. His cock throbbed against her

stomach, and she wiggled, teasing and tormenting him. A groan rose from the depths of his throat, and she

slowed her seduction even more. Two could play his game. His muscles bunched and relaxed again as

she pressed her lips to his body and indulged for an extra moment.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his hands tangling in her hair. Oh yeah, she was definitely whittling away his

control. Ever so slowly, she slid her fingers down his chest, riding the hills and valleys along his solid

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six-pack, until she came to his oblique muscles, her second favorite part of a man, the first, of course,

being the hands. Heat radiated from his body, his pleasure resonating through her as she caressed lightly,

letting the muscles guide her hands to his rock hard cock. She cupped him through his shorts, a little

squeeze that sent a quiver of anticipation racing through her. He thrust into her palm, once, twice, then she

gripped the band on his boxers and tugged them to his thighs, setting his beautiful cock free. It sprang

forward, clamoring for her attention, and she settled herself on her knees.

A flick of her tongue over his crown sent his hips into motion. He jerked forward, and she angled her

head. His cock slid along her tongue as she gripped the base, and his breath came in a low rush. God, he

tasted so good. Adjusting her hands, she cupped his balls, and they retreated in toward his body. She gave

a needy, not quite satisfied sigh, and poised his crown at her mouth.

“Gemma,” he protested, a silent plea to either stop what she was doing or finish what she’d started. She

couldn’t be sure. One thing she did know, she wasn’t ready to be done with him, and that scared her a

little. Okay, a lot. She closed her mouth around him and took him to the back of her throat. He swelled

against her tongue, and she moved her head back and forth, repeating the motion until the heat they were

creating enveloped her and shot her internal temperature up a million degrees.

He gripped her shoulders. “Gemma,” he said again, his raspy voice sending a barrage of erotic

sensations through her. She angled her chin upward and eyes full of lust met hers. The muscles along his

jaw rippled, and he growled, “I need to be inside you.”

The hungry way he looked at her nearly stopped her heart. His cock slid from her mouth, and, since

words were beyond her, she nodded. He pulled her to her feet in a quick, none too gentle tug. Damn, he

could be pretty demanding when he wanted to be. Not that she was complaining. She was used to being in

control, but this take-charge side of him seriously weakened her knees. Normally she wouldn’t like that,

but with Carson, she liked everything.

One strong hand slid around her waist and pulled her against him as he backed her up. She forced her

legs to move until she found herself in front of the sofa. He nudged her with his hips, but she locked her

knees and shook her head, wanting to do it on the floor, like the first time.

“Don’t move,” he said, as understanding lit his eyes.

He stepped away, and she instantly missed his heat. Her flesh chilled, and she wrapped her arms

around herself, her eyes never leaving his hard body. She stared in frank appreciation of his streamlined

muscles as he grabbed an armful of towels and laid them out on the floor. Her heart wobbled a bit,

touched by his thoughtfulness, and a smile played on her lips. He grabbed a condom from his pants and

turned back to her.

“What?” he asked, his eyes dropping to her upturned lips.

“Ten years ago, you made a bed with our clothes,” she said. Why did he have to be so sweet and

thoughtful? Damn girl, this is a dangerous game you’re playing.

His lopsided grin made him look boyish, adorable, and suddenly she was once again staring at the hot

teen from their youth. He cocked a brow. “I’m beginning to believe you remember more than you’re

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letting on.”

“Maybe some things are coming back to me.”

He crooked his finger. “Come here.”

Two steps on shaky legs took her to him, and he went down on his knees, dragging her with him. He fell

over her, his hard body gloriously heavy on hers as he pinned her, caging her beneath his chest as if he

feared she might flee him again. And she would, eventually.

His cock pressed against her stomach, and she writhed. He sucked in a hard breath and cursed. “You

might want to stop that.”

“This?” She moved against him, wanting to make him as crazed as he made her.

“Keep it up, and I’ll flip you over and take you hard and fast.” She wiggled again, liking the idea of

that. “Fuck, Gemma.”

She arched into him, and with a little more urgency he took full possession of her breasts, greedily

drawing one peak and then the other into his mouth. His teeth scraped skin, and she moaned at the

intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. She dragged her nails over his back, and his teeth clamped down a

little harder. The pleasure raced down her body and settled between her legs.

“Yes,” she cried out.

“Gemma.” He pushed his cock against her and tore into the condom with a savagery she’d never seen

before. His glance met hers, the dark desire a clear indication that he was losing the battle to go slow. “I

need to fuck you so bad.”

He slid the condom on and flattened himself along the length of her. Lost in him, mindless to anything

except what they were about to do, she widened her legs in invitation. As she offered herself up to him, he

settled between her thighs.

He brushed his shaft over her sex, rubbing it from top to bottom and stimulating her clit before sliding

in an inch. Her eyes practically rolled back in her head, her entire body trembling with need. Sexual heat

flooded her, and she took a breath and held it, waiting for more, waiting for him to make her feel so

gloriously full. He stilled inside her, grabbed both of her hands in one of his and held them over her head.

She moved, writhed, anything to push him in deeper, but he angled his body and used his other hand to

press down on her hip, totally immobilizing her.

What the hell?

She needed to move, to rock against him, to have another orgasm, for God’s sake. “Carson,” she

murmured. What was this, some kind of cruel revenge for running out on him? “More…”

Directing the speed and depth, he gave her one more beautiful inch, and she wanted to claw at him,

force the rest of him inside.

He splayed his fingers over her stomach. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” she cried out.

“Does that feel good?”

Tension grew, and if he didn’t have her hands pinned above her head, she’d rub her clit, bring herself

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there. That’d show him.

“Are you going to run again?”

He rocked forward, only to pull back, a taste of what he could give her. And, oh, how she needed him

to give it to her. Repeatedly.

Flustered and delirious with need she said, “Please.”

“Answer the question, Gemma, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Carson,” she growled. “I need more.”

He offered another inch, and a noise rose from her, half cry, half moan. God, it felt so good, too good.

What was it that made her body respond to him in a way it had never responded to another?

“Well, are you?” he pressed. “Are you going to run out on me again?

“No,” she lied.

A laugh rumbled in his throat. “You’d say anything right now, wouldn’t you? Just to feel my cock in

you?”

“Yes…no…” She took a deep gulping breath. “I don’t know.” When they were done, she was going to

damn well kill him. Better yet, she’d sick Gracie on him and let her finish the job. “Carson, please. I need

you to fuck me.”

“Are you going to run?”

“No.”

“Who am I?”

“Carson.”

“Say it again, Gemma. Say my name, and I’ll fuck you.”

“Carson,” she whispered, her body so weak with need it was a wonder she could talk.

In one quick thrust he drove into her, and her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. He plunged deeply and

pulled out, only to slide back in again. Yes! She gave a silent prayer of thanks. Warmth streaked through

her, her body growing slicker with each skilled stroke. “Just like that, Carson. Yes, just like that.” He

pressed his lips hungrily into her neck, his breath hot as he moved with purpose. Pleasure sharpened

between her legs, and she lifted, meeting and welcoming his body as he sank into her.

His fingers smoothed her damp hair from her forehead, and her heart hammered as he pumped harder.

His pace changed, became urgent, and she suddenly felt like she was freefalling without a net. She

reveled in the erotic pulses between her legs as he powered into her. Need sang through her blood, her

desire spinning out of control.

“Carson,” she whimpered, never wanting him to stop. Pressure formed, built, and pulled, until nothing

existed but this moment and this man.

He eased back and drew a ragged breath, and she sensed he was trying to slow down, to make this good

for her. She’d have none of that—this was the best sex she’d ever had. She wrapped her legs around his

body and drew him back in. He growled as he filled her.

“You’re making it hard for me to go slow,” he said.

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“I don’t think either of us want slow.” She moved, pressing against him, seeking what her body craved.

“No?”

Her hair tangled as she shook her head and bucked against him. “Faster, harder,” she said.

His jaw clenched, and he held her still as he stole back control. “Then I’ll fuck you until you’re unable

to walk out of here.” A little whimper squeaked in her throat, and he grinned. “That’s what I should have

done last time.”

He slammed into her and buried his face in the hollow of her throat. He plunged deeply, taking what he

needed, and she ran her hands over his hard body. Together they created a rhythm, each pushing and

pulling, taking and giving. There was a warm familiarity between them, each instinctively knowing the

other one’s body. It was shocking how quickly they fell into synch, like they’d been having sex for years

and had long ago perfected it. He inched back and cupped the sides of her face. Heat flashed through her,

and she closed her eyes against the flood of pleasure.

“Open your eyes,” he growled. “Look at me.” Her lids fluttered open, and she met a gaze so intense that

breathing became difficult. “I want to see you when you come, and I want you to see me. No fucking way

are you forgetting a second of this.”

Not a chance.

She held his gaze. God, those eyes—so dark, so serious, the focus behind them touching her in places

she’d long ago closed off. She pushed down the apprehension and concentrated only on the pleasure

“Got that?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, but it turned into a moan when he thrust into her. Her toes curled, and her body

trembled in surrender. He angled, shifting slightly for deeper pumps, and his pelvis brushed her clit.

“Ohh,” she cried out, giving herself over to the sensations pulling at her. White-hot desire claimed her,

and she arched into him, clawing, scratching…needing.

“Carson…I’m…”

“I know. Me, too.”

An explosion tore through her, and she stopped breathing, thinking. Her sex clenched around him, and

he cursed under his breath. He drove deep inside, locking them together, and threw his head back as he let

go. With her body on fire inside and out, she gripped his shoulders. Her fingers bit into his skin as he

thickened and pulsed high inside her.

As she floated in some realm where only pleasure existed, Carson fell over her, his body warm as he

crushed her against the floor. She filled her lungs with his scent, a deep sense of satisfaction rolling

through her. They lay there for a long time, both panting, slowly coming down from their high.

“Next time,” he said, breaking the quiet, “I’ll go slow.”

Next time? There wasn’t going to be a next time. But that was a topic of conversation for another day.

He rolled off her and discarded the condom. There was a grin on his face when he turned back to her,

and pulled her to him with possessive hands. “Now, that’s how it’s done,” he teased.

“If you say so,” she teased in return.

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“Hey.”

Laughing, she rolled into him and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to the strong pounding of

his heart. But he was right, of course. That was how it was done. She’d had two amazing orgasms that left

her strung out and wrung out. One would think she’d be sated, good to go for another ten years, but that

didn’t seem to be the case at all. Her mutinous body was screaming for more, even though her brain

shrieked that it was a bad idea.

Warm fingers lightly stroked her arm, all the way from her shoulder to her wrist. God, those hands.

They revived life at the hospital, yet damn near killed her with a touch. Her body responded with a

shiver.

He must have misread her reaction. He grabbed some of the towels as covers and pulled her in closer.

“Let’s rest for a minute.” He gave her a wink. “Then we’ll grab a slice of pizza and work on that going

slow thing like I promised.”

As she lay there, snuggled up against him and absorbing his heat, exhaustion pulled at her. It had been a

hell of a long, hard day, and an even longer, harder night. Maybe she’d close her eyes for a minute, then,

once he was asleep, she’d sneak out, and the next time she saw him, she’d step into the facade she hid

behind so well. It was easier that way. No risk. No heartbreak. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t get hurt.

Her lids fell shut. “Night, Sailor Boy,” she whispered, the pounding of his heart lulling her to sleep.

A long time later, a noise pulled her awake, and when she saw sunshine slanting on the pool house wall,

she jackknifed up. Shit. Memories of last night came flooding back, and the need to flee gripped her like a

vice. Towels fell to the floor as she jumped up and went in search of her clothes.

Dammit, they were still wet. Ugh. She tugged on her jeans and T-shirt, foregoing her bra and panties.

Her nipples poked through the damp white fabric. She might as well have been naked for all the good the

top did. If anyone saw her now, they’d surely think she’d just come from a wet T-shirt contest. She tiptoed

to the door, and didn’t dare take one last glance over her shoulder. The gorgeous sight of him lying there

might draw her back in. The lock squeaked, and she winced. She stopped moving and listened for signs of

Carson waking. Once she heard his soft breathing sounds, she inched the door open. Clothes still wet,

showcasing far too much of her body, she stepped from the pool house, ready to dart to her car. At least it

was early, and she could get to her apartment without anyone seeing her.

But the second she made a move to go, she came face to face with a middle-aged man and woman, and

a girl around her age.

Carson’s family.

Holy shit.

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Chapter Five

Jumping to Gemma’s rescue, Carson grabbed his shirt off the floor and hung it over her shoulders as she

stood there flashing his family. She sagged against him and he pulled her close.

“Son,” his father said, that familiar look of disapproval on his face as he took in Carson’s wet pants

and the girl he had in the crook of his arm. “Everything okay?”

“Hey Dad, Mom.” Desperate to lighten the situation, he reached out and mussed his sister’s hair like he

used to do when they were kids. “What’s up, Sis?”

“Carson,” she warned, but grinned as she whacked him away. He pushed his free hand into the wet

pocket of his pants and looked back at his dad. “Yeah, everything is fine. We just fell in the pool with our

clothes on.” He scratched the back of his neck. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you weren’t

coming until next week.”

“That’s obvious,” his mother said, and he saw Crystal struggle to fight off a laugh. “We didn’t mean to

catch you by surprise.”

Gemma wiggled beside him, and he pulled her in closer. “I’m glad you’re here. I wanted you to meet

Gemma.”

“Gemma?” his mother said.

“Yeah, Gemma…ah, my fiancée.” Shit. Shit. Shit. He didn’t even know her last name.

“Your what?” His mother’s blue eyes nearly popped out of her head. He could understand her surprise,

but since she’d been trying to marry him off for years, he was pretty sure she’d be thrilled…once the

shock wore off.

With the hand that wasn’t hiding her panties and bra, Gemma pinched his side, but she didn’t try to

wiggle away or protest. That would only expose her to his family again. For the time being she was

trapped, and they both knew it.

“I didn’t mean to spring this on you.”

His dad ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, his shrewd eyes moving over Carson’s face.

“Carson, this is such a surprise. Why are we just hearing about this now?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to tell you until I saw you in person. Gemma, this is my mom Diane, my dad

Alistair, and my sister Crystal.”

“How do you all do?” Gemma said. “I’m Gemma Carr.”

The shock in his mom’s eyes gave way to pleasure. And there you had it. She was so desperate for

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Carson to get married, settle down and have kids, it didn’t matter that he and Gemma were standing there

in wet clothes, with sex written all over them. His mom held out her hand.

“Gemma, I’m so happy to meet you.”

Gemma reached out, and groaned when she offered the hand clutching her bra. Carson snatched it from

her, and Crystal chuckled again. She was enjoying this way too much.

“Uh, nice to meet you, too,” Gemma said.

His mother smoothed her hand over her skirt. “Can you come in, stay for breakfast?”

“No, I have to get back to Gracie?”

“Gracie?” his dad asked.

“My dog.”

“Come tonight for dinner, then,” his mom said. “I won’t take no for an answer. I’m dying to get to know

my son’s fiancée better.” Diane gave Carson a warning look. “We have so much to catch up on.”

“I…uh…” Gemma mumbled.

“I’ll pick you up at six,” Carson said.

She pinched him again, and he flinched. “Now, let’s get you out of here, so you can get home to

Gracie.”

He turned her sideways, hiding her body from his family, and kept her in the crook of his arm. Hurried

steps took them to the driveway, which was still visible from the pool area. When they reached her

vehicle, she fished her key from her pocket and turned to him, her eyes shooting daggers. Damn, she was

seriously pissed.

“What the hell, Carson?” she said between clenched teeth.

“See you tonight,” Crystal called out, and Gemma plastered on a smile and waved back.

His folks sat at the poolside table as Crystal disappeared into the house. Gemma grabbed her bra from

his hand, opened her car, and tossed it in, along with her panties. “I’m going to kill you for this.”

“Just hear me out.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No. I’m leaving, and I’m not coming to dinner.”

He put his arms on either side of her and pressed her against her car. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Last night shouldn’t have happened, Carson. But it did. We had sex—”

“Again.”

“Yes, again, and—”

“It was fantastic.” Her sweet scent, stronger than an aphrodisiac, reached his nose, and he pulled it into

his lungs.

She briefly closed her eyes and huffed. “I’m not interested in anything more—and definitely not being

your fiancée. We don’t even know each other, Carson. Hell, you didn’t even know my last name.”

“Wait, I wasn’t serious. I’m not interested in getting married, ever.”

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Her brows pulled together. “Okay…so, then, what was all that about?”

“My parents have been trying to marry me off to the daughter of one family friend or another for ages.

The last couple of years they’ve set their sights on Audra James, and I am so not interested in her, or

marriage.” He stiffened, and shook his head. “Now that I’m here for the summer, they’re really going to

put the pressure on.”

“Why don’t you want to get married?”

Oh, because he didn’t want to end up like his parents, faking happiness in a loveless marriage. They’d

gotten together because their parents saw them as a good fit. They both wanted something from each other.

For his mom, it was a husband to provide a lifestyle she was accustomed to. For his dad, it was a

socialite to stand by his side at functions. Carson loved them both, but he was just so sick and tired of

their fake, unhappy marriage. Everywhere he turned. Fake. Fake. Fake. Since he’d yet to meet a woman

who didn’t want something from him, someone who liked him for who he was and not what he had in his

wallet, he’d given up on the idea of marriage. Now, he was a self-proclaimed bachelor to the end.

“I just don’t.” He paused and looked her over. “Why, do you?”

Tough girl demeanor back in place, she said, “No.”

The “no” didn’t surprise him, but it did leave him wondering who’d hurt her and why she hid behind a

bad-girl persona. He was used to people pretending to be what they weren’t, but for some reason he hated

that she did it—even though he’d just asked her to take on another role.

He studied her face. “Why not?”

“Just don’t,” she responded, giving him the same answer as he’d given her.

“Now that we’re on the same page, I thought that maybe you could help me out, pretend to be my

fiancée.”

“Jesus, Carson. What a stupid idea. No one is going to believe it.”

“We’ll make them believe it.”

“How?”

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip and dipped his head. She sucked in a breath, and a tremble moved

through her. “Like that,” he whispered, her body’s reaction saying it all. “And don’t worry, I plan to make

it worth your while, too.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“I’ll invest in your business.”

Her body stiffened. “I don’t know, that sounds—”

“Like a business arrangement. Nothing more. You said you were working at the bar for extra cash. This

will give you extra money and help me get my parents off my back for the summer.”

“And at the end of summer?”

“We fake a breakup, and I leave town. I wasn’t planning on sticking around for the fall anyway, and you

said you were only here for the summer.”

“I don’t think I can do this. I’m not really the kind of girl they’d expect you to marry.” She put one hand

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on her hip. “In case you’re not aware, I have a reputation, Carson. Ask around. Anyone will tell you.”

“What kind of reputation?”

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I sleep around. All the time.”

Bullshit. “Do you think you can stop? Just for the summer. While we’re pretending.”

“I don’t know. I like sex.”

He grinned. “I’ll give you sex. Lots of it.”

“If you’re paying me to do this, I can’t sleep with you.” She cocked her head, her long, mussed hair

falling over her shoulder in waves. “I’m not a prostitute.”

He grinned, and wanting to touch her, he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “Furthest thing from it.

I’m supporting your business, and the sex is outside the arrangement. Just something we do for fun.”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“So, you’ll do it, then.”

She frowned and looked down. What was going through that pretty head of hers? “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll tell you what.” He inched back. “Give me your phone.”

She eyed him, and he could almost hear the wheels spinning. “What do you want with my phone?”

He held his hand out. “Just pass it over.”

A beat passed then she reached into her car and grabbed it. He ran his fingers over the screen,

memorized her number, and put his information into her contacts. “Take some time to think about it, and

I’ll call you later.” He gestured with a nod behind him. “I have to go play a game of a hundred and twenty

questions.”

She arched a brow, her look unsympathetic. “You have no one to blame but yourself.” She tapped his

chest, and he grabbed her finger and held it against his heart. “You got yourself into this, Sailor Boy.”

“But it’s the perfect solution, don’t you think?”

“I think a lot of things, but I don’t think this idea is perfect by any means.” She tugged her hand away. “It

has trouble written all over it.”

He leaned into her. “But last night, Gemma. That was perfect, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “It was fine.”

“Now, can I kiss you? They’re still watching.”

“I haven’t agreed to this, Carson.” She glanced past his shoulder. “Besides, they just caught me

sneaking out of the pool house with you. How much more convincing do you think they need?”

His mouth hovered inches from hers, and he heard her breath catch. “Maybe it’s you I want to

convince.”

The warm morning sun beat down on them, and she wet her bottom lip. That was all the encouragement

he needed. He pressed his lips to hers, and at first her mouth was stiff. He slid his tongue along her lips,

easing them open. He moaned, refusing to give up, and a heartbeat later he was rewarded with the

softening of her body. Sweet. His lips pressed harder and she kissed him back, passionately, deeply, a

little whimper of pleasure bubbling in her throat when he cupped her face. His cock thickened, and he

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broke the kiss and sucked in a sharp breath. Jesus, he needed to get himself under control before he faced

his parents. The last thing he wanted was to be sporting a raging hard-on while undergoing an inquisition.

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Go home, take care of Gracie, and think it over.” She nodded and

slid into her car. He held her door. “And Gemma?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice a breathless whisper.

“I don’t think we’ll have any trouble convincing anyone.” He shut her door, and stood back, staring

after her until she disappeared down the driveway.

“Carson,” his mother called out. He heard the sound of a chair being pulled out from the table. “Come

sit with us.”

He spun on his heel and put his hands into his pockets. Padding barefoot across the back driveway, he

met his folks at the poolside table, last night’s pizza still sitting there unopened and uneaten.

“When did you two meet?” his mom asked.

He hovered over her, refusing to sit. “Ten years ago.”

She blinked, surprise all over her face. “And this is the first we’re hearing of her?”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

“What does she do? Where does she live? Who are her parents?” she asked, firing off too many

questions.

“Slow down, Mom,” he said, shutting down her inquisition. “All that matters is she’s with me, and

you’re going to love her.” He pressed his mouth to his mom’s cheek and gave her a kiss. “Now, I need to

get changed and get to the hospital.” He turned to his dad. “We’ll catch up tonight, okay?”

His father gave a curt nod, and Carson darted inside. He hurried to the shower, his thoughts still on

Gemma and last night. Fuck, the sex had been incredible. Sure he’d expected good, but damn, he never

expected it to be that good. He showered, dressed, pulled on his scrubs, and left the house. Since it was a

beautiful day, he decided to walk and cut through the park, taking a shortcut to work.

Ten minutes later, he walked through the ambulance bay doors and into the ER. He greeted the nurse

practitioner on duty with a “chin up” as she stepped into a treatment room and glanced around to get a feel

for what he was walking into today.

Sara, the charge nurse, stood at the nursing station, studying the patient flow monitors hanging on the

wall across from her. He stepped up beside her and braced himself.

“What’s the damage?”

Sara waggled her hand. “Could be better, will be worse.”

“I hear you.” He headed toward the doctor’s lounge to grab a cup of coffee and something to eat before

starting his shift.

“Hey, Carson,” Jake called out, hurrying down the hall to catch up to him. “How did last night go?”

They passed a couple of nurses and a few more doctors, and everyone was grinning at him. “What’s the

big deal? I was helping Gemma with her cause. You were doing the same.”

“Come on. She’s the hottest girl around, and you paid top dollar for her. I’m sure it must have helped

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your cause.” He winked and nudged him with his elbow.

Carson didn’t like where this was going. His fingers fisted at his side. “My cause?”

“Come on, you know what I mean.”

When they reached the doctor’s lounge, Carson stopped and turned to Jake. “Just so you know, that’s

my fiancée you’re talking about. You say one more thing about her, and I’ll punch you in the fucking

throat.”

Jake stiffened, and Carson couldn’t be sure what shocked him more, Gemma being his fiancée, or his

threat to punch him.

“What the fuck, Carson? This is Gemma Carr we’re talking about. She’s not the fiancée type, if you

know what I mean.”

“No. You’d better explain it,” he growled.

“She sleeps around. Everyone knows it.”

He clenched his jaw hard enough to break bone. “Yeah? Has she slept with you?”

“Not yet, but—”

“What do you mean, not yet?” Carson went still. “What part of she’s my fiancée didn’t you get?”

Jake backed up. “So you’re serious about that?”

“Serious as a fucking heart attack.”

“But she sleeps…” He stopped and scratched his head.

“Who, then, are all these men she’s sleeping with?”

“Uh…”

“That’s right. So back the fuck off. Don’t bring this up again, and we won’t have any problems.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Turning his back to Jake, Carson punched his code in the keypad beside the door and stepped inside,

taking a moment to calm himself before he grabbed a cup of coffee. He took a sip, selected a muffin from

the refreshment counter, and then headed back to the ER. As soon as he entered, he saw Sara with the

phone tucked to her ear, writing down notes as she listened. She hung up the phone and turned to him,

activating the Bluetooth receiver in her other ear, one every staff member wore so they could hear her

report of the incoming trauma as well.

“Motorcycle verses guardrail, open right tib-fib fracture, two minutes out. Going to trauma three.”

“Got it.” Carson shoved the remainder of his muffin into his mouth and washed it down with a gulp of

coffee. A few minutes later, the ambulance bay doors slid open with his first patient of the day. He

hooked his stethoscope around his neck, grabbed the clipboard with an evaluation sheet attached, and

followed them into the trauma room, getting a detailed report from the EMS crew as he went.

The rest of the morning went by in a rush, and by the time noon rolled around, he was starving, the

muffin barely keeping him going. Maybe instead of calling Gemma, he’d make his way to Score for lunch

and see if she had an answer for him. Still dressed in his scrubs, he left the hospital. Warm sunshine fell

over him as he walked the short path from the hospital to the bar. He passed a few staff coming back with

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takeout containers, and hoped Gemma was working.

Hurried steps took him to the bar, and he pushed the door open. His eyes adjusted to the dimness as he

glanced around, and the level of disappointment that sat in his gut at not finding her was a bit

disconcerting. Turning on the balls of his feet, he left and walked around the side of the building. He’d

forgotten his bag there last night, so retrieving it was as good an excuse as any to see her again. He started

up the stairs leading to her loft, and hoped to God Gracie was tied inside.

The steps creaked under his weight, and he braced himself, waiting for Gracie to bark and come

barreling out the door at him. When he reached the landing, he noticed another set of stairs that led to the

roof. He hadn’t noticed them before.

He glanced through the glass window and found Gracie asleep on her bed. He lifted his hand to knock,

but when he saw Gemma sitting at her table, so focused on her work she hadn’t even heard him approach,

he dropped his arm. Dark eyes, intense and serious, sorted through jewels, and tools he’d never even seen

before were set up on her table. Dressed in yoga pants and a T-shirt she looked relaxed, sexy…and well-

sated. Fascinated by this quiet, thoughtful side of Gemma, he watched for a long time, but then, as if

sensing him there, her gaze lifted, and her eyes met his. He waved, and she stood.

The door opened, and Gracie stirred. “Carson, what are you doing here?”

He gestured with a nod, and put his hands over his balls as the dog rushed over. “I left my bag here last

night.”

Gemma laughed as he protected himself. “I’ll get it.” She turned, and he stepped inside to pet Gracie.

“Hey girl.” He dropped to one knee and rubbed her ears. “This a much better way to be greeted.”

Gemma came back with the bag. “Here you go.”

Carson climbed to his feet. “That’s not the only reason I’m here.”

“No?”

“No. I wanted to see you.” When she didn’t respond, he looked past her shoulder. “What were you

doing?”

“Just sorting through some gems.”

He walked around her and stepped up to her table. “How did you learn all this?”

“Fine arts in college.”

“I’m impressed.”

“You should be.”

He grinned. She returned his smile, and he looked over her jewels again. “This is what you’re working

extra hours for?”

She nodded. “I purchase only the best stones, and it’s difficult to build an inventory, and get that

inventory into stores, without the finances.”

“I guess two thousand dollars would go a long way in helping.”

“Two thousand, huh? That’s what you’re offering?”

“Yeah.”

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She put one hand on her hip. “You just paid four thousand to go on a date with me, and now you’re only

offering two for me to pretend to be your fiancée. With the level of commitment you’re asking for, that

doesn’t quite seem right, now does it?”

He laughed. “Like I said, tough.”

She pursed her lips and rocked on her feet. “Try again, Sailor Boy.”

“Fine, five thousand.”

She tried to hide her surprise, but he caught the startled little glint in her eyes. What, did she think he

was going to give up and walk away so easily? Hell no. Maybe that’s what she’d been hoping for—if she

held out for too much, he’d forget this whole thing and disappear. Sure, he wanted her to help him get his

mother off his back, but there was more to it than that. He wanted to be around her, needed her in his bed

so he could finally get her out of his system and get on with his life.

“Five thousand dollars. Payment due at the end of the job.” She held her hand out for a shake, and he

captured it. “Just so you know, I would have done it for free,” she added.

Okay, that surprised him. “Yeah, why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Because I have sucker written on my forehead, and you needed help, and I can’t

seem to say no to you.” She folded her arms, her smile gone. “Plus, I’ve given it some thought, and I kind

of owe you.” She looked down. “You saved me that night, Carson. I hate to think what could have

happened if you hadn’t knocked that cup out of my hand.”

“The only thing you owed me that night was your name.”

“Now you have it.”

He tugged her hand, dragging her closer. Her body meshed with his, and his cock instantly hardened.

“And just so you know, I would have gone higher.” Her nipples pressed against his chest, and he moved

his hips, letting her know what her closeness was doing to him. “There is one more thing we have to

negotiate.”

“What’s that?”

“You sleeping with me.”

“Carson—”

“I want you, Gemma. I want the perks that go with you being my fiancée, fake or not.”

“It doesn’t seem right.”

“Does this?” He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her deeply. One hand slipped around her head and

held her to him. A lusty moan sounded, and he couldn’t tell if it was hers or his. He broke the kiss, and

with his lips still hovering close he said, “If you tell me that didn’t seem right, then I won’t ask again.”

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Chapter Six

Gemma rifled through dresses at a local boutique as her friend Andy talked a million miles an hour about

the situation Gemma had gotten herself into. She tried to focus on what her friend was saying, but she was

still preoccupied with the kiss Carson had given her. It felt too good, too right, which was why she could

never sleep with him again. Everything about him threw her off her game and had her forgetting she didn’t

do “close.” So why she’d told him she’d think about sleeping with him during this pretend engagement

was beyond her.

I am such an idiot.

She needed to figure out how to say no to him. But when he looked at her, all boyish and adorable, it

stole every ounce of her willpower. She was powerless against his charm, and now she’d agreed to think

about sleeping with him for the rest of the summer while pretending to be his fiancée. Talk about making

one bad decision after another. She was beginning to believe she had a PhD in stupid.

“You know this is crazy, right.” Andy pulled a cute black dress off the rack and held it against herself.

“Even for you.”

“It’s a business arrangement,” Gemma explained for the hundredth time.

“Who are you trying to convince of that, me or you?”

“You. Look, it’s basically like this—I’m working for him, and he’s investing in my business. There is

nothing more to it than that. And just think about all the gems I’ll be able to purchase. I might even have

enough left over to get some new soldering equipment. Mine is a million years old and takes forever to

heat up. The other day I saw some on eBay that I’d love to get my hands on. He could really help me get

my business off the ground.”

Andy shoved the dress back onto the rack and stared at her. Gemma tried not to fidget under her

scrutiny. “This is me, Gemma. I’ve known you since we were five.”

“And…”

“And you’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re nervous about something.”

She glanced around the store, happy to find it empty, the sales lady at the front unable to overhear their

conversation. “Of course I’m nervous,” she hissed. “I’m meeting his parents for dinner, and I have nothing

to wear.” She glanced at her yoga pants. “If I don’t find something soon, I’ll have to wear these. I can’t

imagine that will go over well. These people are rich, and have expectations.”

“You sure that’s all you’re nervous about?”

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She shrugged, wanting this conversation to end. “What else would I be nervous about?”

“Oh, geez, I don’t know. Just that you agreed to a summer fling with a guy you gave your virginity to and

haven’t been able to stop thinking about for ten years.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “I barely thought of him, and I didn’t agree to have a summer fling. I

agreed to pretend to be his fiancée.”

Andy went quiet, too quiet. She reached for Gemma’s arm and gave a little squeeze. “I just don’t want

to see you hurt, Gemma, and I think he’s the one guy who could do it.”

“I’m not going to get hurt. I’m a big girl, and I know what I’m doing.”

She didn’t. Not really.

“Okay,” Andy said, letting it go, even though she still looked unconvinced. Not that Gemma could

blame her. She still wasn’t quite certain she could come out the other end of this unscathed. But he needed

her help, and she felt she owed him. Plus the money was too good to pass up. She could really get her

business off the ground with that kind of investment. And as far as having sex with him again? She was

going to say no. She had to. The guy was a prescription for trouble.

“Here, try this.”

She glanced at the light blue dress Andy was holding up. With short sleeves and buttons to the waist, it

was casual enough that she’d be comfortable, but dressy enough for dinner at Carson’s. She checked the

tag. It was expensive, but if she was going to step into his world, that was the price she’d have to pay. She

took the dress, walked into the changing room, and pulled the curtain shut.

“Here goes nothing.”

“Do you have a story for how you two met?” Andy asked from the other side of the makeshift door.

Panic raced through her. “Shoot, I never thought of that.”

“Um, I’m not sure how to say this delicately, so I’m just going to say it.”

Gemma snorted. “When have you ever been delicate?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Okay, so how are they going to feel about you, Gemma? You don’t really have the

right pedigree to fit into his world.”

She pulled the curtain open and stepped from the dressing room. “I know.” She smoothed her hand over

the dress and gave herself a once-over in the mirror. “I’m guessing they’ll hate me.”

“But if they love their son, they’ll accept you for who you are, right? And who you are is pretty damn

awesome, if you ask me. I just don’t want to see you changing for them, okay?”

“I won’t.” She held out her arms. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to give every pampered socialite in the Hampton’s a run for their money.” Gemma

turned and checked out the back in the mirror. “One more thing,” Andy said. “Then I’ll shut up.”

Gemma spun and met her friend’s eyes. “What?”

“You need to be careful with the lies. You can get buried in them and find yourself not being able to tell

what is real and what isn’t.”

Gemma smiled, but a nervous sensation took up residence in her stomach. Maybe agreeing to this

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wasn’t such a great idea. Maybe she should just end it right now, before she found herself in over her

head. Going home to meet the folks was a situation she’d spent her whole life avoiding. Perhaps she could

just keep working at the bar this summer, and build her inventory slowly, like she’d been doing. She could

always take on another job over the winter to help pay the rent, then she wouldn’t have to move in with

her mother, or find a cheaper place.

But when would she ever find the time to make her jewelry, build her business? She’d dreamt of

owning her own shop her whole life, and the last thing she wanted to do was to wake up at forty, caught in

the same dead-end job and relying on a man—or many of them—unable to make it on her own. I do not

want to end up like my mother. She prided herself on being a strong, independent woman and had learned

early on not to count on anyone. They always vanished in the end. One way or another.

The bell above the boutique door jingled, and she glanced past Andy’s shoulders to see Crystal. Their

eyes connected from across the room, and a smile lit up the girl’s pretty face. Gemma relaxed slightly,

though still embarrassed from their encounter that morning.

“Gemma,” she said, her heels clicking on the polished tile floor as she made her way over to them. “I

saw you from the window and thought I’d come in and say hi.” Eyes that mirrored her brothers moved

over Gemma’s dress, and her chestnut hair fell over her shoulders as she nodded. “Look at you. That

dress is gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Crystal. This is my best friend Andy. Andy, this is Carson’s sister, Crystal.”

The two exchanged pleasantries, and Crystal crinkled her nose. “Just a heads up, you’re all Mom has

been able to talk about today.”

“Is that good or bad?” Gemma asked.

Crystal laughed, her smile bright and warm, much like Carson’s, and Gemma instantly liked her. “It’s

good.” She rolled her eyes skyward. “Believe me, it’s good. For all of us.”

Gemma shifted in her heels. “What do you mean?”

“She wants Carson to settle down, and she wants grandkids. I’m just glad he’s found someone he loves

so Mom will stop trying to pair him up with Audra, or some other family friend. I was not looking

forward to another summer of Audra.”

“Yeah, Carson told me about her.”

Crystal leaned in and lowered her voice. “Between us, she clings to him like dryer lint.” They all

laughed. “It’s important to marry for love.” Her smile faltered. “Mom and Dad, of all people, should

know that.” She shook her head, her eyes bright again. “Anyway, I need Carson to pave that path for me,

because once he’s married, she’ll be on me next.”

Gemma shot Andy a quick look, the lie settling in her stomach like a lump of cold oatmeal.

“He’s a really good guy, Gemma,” Crystal continued. “The best guy I know, and I just want to see him

happy. I only saw you two together for a few minutes, but I could tell he thinks the world of you.” Crystal

leaned in and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you tonight.”

She left the store, and Andy turned to Gemma, a worried look on her face. “She seems nice.”

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“What?”

“I think she really likes you.”

She injected her voice with humor. “Like you said, what’s not to like?”

“Just don’t let yourself get too close, Gemma. When you fake a breakup, you’ll be breaking up with

them all.”

Forcing her wobbly knees to move, she stepped back into the changing room and drew the curtain. “I

won’t. In, out, all over before I know it.”

“Are you talking about this pretend engagement gig or my date with Jesse, last week?”

Gemma laughed, a bit of the tension easing from her shoulders as she slipped out of the dress. “You are

so bad.”

“Yeah, I’m the bad one,” Andy said. “So does this arrangement come with certain rights? If you know

what I mean.”

Oh, she knew what she meant. Gemma tugged on her yoga pants and T-shirt. “No.” She walked out of

the dressing room and found Andy staring at her.

“Why not?”

“He asked, but I am not having sex with him again.”

“Oh, he asked, did he?”

“Yeah, of course. He’s a guy.” She walked to the front of the store and put her dress on the counter.

Andy checked her watch. “Listen, I have to run. Work beckons. If I see lover boy there—”

“Andy,” she warned.

“Good luck, tonight,” Andy said, and took off out the door.

Gemma paid for her dress and hurried home. With just enough time to take Gracie for a run and then get

ready for dinner, she rushed up her steps and opened her door to find her dog waiting for her.

“Hey girl. You ready for a run?”

Gracie’s tail wagged as Gemma changed into her running gear. They took off to the park, and she was

looking forward to a good hard run to clear her head and hopefully ease some of her anxiety. They ran

their usual path, bypassing people with small kids and strollers, couples walking hand in hand, and others

seated on the many tree-shaded benches. From down by the ponds, she could hear kids giggling as they

fed the ducks. The warm, sweet scent of summer drifted past her nose as her legs ate up the pavement.

Gracie started barking and tugging on her leash. “Hey, Gracie, what’s up?” Gemma normally had great

control of her very powerful dog, but today something had caught her attention and was pulling her in

another direction. Gemma scanned the trees for squirrels. Gracie hated squirrels. But that wasn’t what had

her in an uproar this afternoon. She let go of the leash when she saw what, or rather who, her dog was

after.

She spotted Carson walking along the path, backpack on one shoulder, still dressed in his scrubs. He

had his back to her, but she’d know that body anywhere, anytime. Her flesh warmed at the sight, and she

had no idea how she was going to pretend anything with him—or stay out of his bed.

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Gracie’s barks drew his attention, and he spun around. When he moved, she got a glimpse of the person

he was talking to. Her steps slowed at the sight of the pretty blonde, with perfectly styled hair and clothes,

and the cutest shoes she’d ever seen. The woman backed up an inch, moving away from Gracie. Gemma

felt an unwise pang of jealousy and reminded her stuttering heart that she had no dibs on Carson. They

were only pretending.

“Gracie!” Carson said, dropping to one knee. His head lifted, and the smile that crossed his face when

he saw her jump-started her heart. No wonder he worked in the ER. They didn’t even need life-saving

equipment when he was around. “Gemma,” he said, like he was thrilled to see her. Jesus, that really

shouldn’t make me so happy.

In a feeble attempt to make herself look presentable, she finger combed her damp hair and pushed it

from her face. But there was no way in hell she could come close to looking as put together as the

gorgeous woman staring down her nose at her.

“Hi,” she said for lack of anything else.

Without missing a beat, Carson stood, leaned in, and kissed her right on the mouth. His lips lingered for

a second, his fingers touching her face in a tender way that had her gulping for air. The other hand slid

around her back, and rested just above her tailbone. She melted into his touch, momentarily forgetting

everything but how good it felt to be held by him.

“You…” he whispered, holding her to him like they kissed and touched on a regular basis, “look

beautiful.”

His words snapped her back. Beautiful? Hardly. A sweaty mess was more like it. That’s when she

realized what was really going on. This was for show. She needed to tell her body that, because as heat

fanned out from everywhere he touched, her damn heart raced, responding like this thing between them

was more than just lust. But it wasn’t. It was hot, carnal desire and nothing more. Which was good.

Because she didn’t want more.

“Gemma,” he said. “This is Audra James. A family friend.”

Audra.

Gemma held her hand out. “Audra, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Really? I’ve heard nothing about you.” She angled her head, her big amber eyes raking over Gemma.

“Wait. Do I know you?”

Gemma examined her in return, feeling a little burst of pride when she gazed at her neckline. “Possibly.

You’re wearing one of my necklaces.”

Audra’s hand went to her throat. “Your necklaces?”

“Yes. The little GG on the back stands for Gems by Gemma.”

Carson grinned. “Clever.”

“But I purchased this at the Southampton spa.”

“That’s right,” Gemma said.

“Wait.” Audra tapped her chin. “I do know you. You work at Score, right. You’re a…waitress.” Her

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lips puckered, as if she’d eaten something distasteful.

“Yes,” she said, refusing to let this woman belittle her. Waitressing was hard work, a respectable job,

and the staff at Score went to great lengths to ensure the hospital staff was properly nourished. Plus they

raised funds to feed the homeless. She was proud of the work being done there. Proud to be a part of it.

“Really?” Audra’s head bobbed as she turned to Carson, her gaze challenging. “When did you two

meet?”

“Years ago,” Carson said. “Love at first sight, right Gemma? Then we met up again not too long ago.

Gemma was a bit feverish, and I treated her a couple of times and told her to call me in the morning.”

Gemma nearly bit off her tongue. Oh, he’d treated her all right. Take two fabulous orgasms and call me

in the morning.

But seriously, though, this was the story they were going with? Technically, it wasn’t a lie. And if

people wanted to believe he’d given her pills to take down the fever, instead of the two best orgasms of

her life, well, then, there was nothing she could do about that.

“Carson—” Audra protested, but he cut her off.

“Sorry, I have to run. My parents just arrived this morning, and I must go catch up.” He dropped another

kiss onto Gemma’s mouth. “I’ll see you soon, babe.”

With Carson gone, Gracie sniffed at Audra’s feet. “Do you mind?” Audra asked, hands on hips, Gucci

bag dangling from her wrist.

“She has good taste in shoes,” Gemma said. It was meant as a compliment. Really, she had nothing

against the girl. Didn’t even know her.

“These are Jimmy Choos,” she replied, her look indignant. Audra pursed her lips, her gaze dropping to

Gemma’s running shoes, the twist of her mouth suggesting Gemma wouldn’t know designer footwear if

she tripped over it.

“I know. I’ve been lusting after those for a while now.”

Audra lifted her head, long, fake lashes fluttering. “Will Carson be buying them for you?”

“Excuse me?” Had she just straight up suggested she was with Carson so he could buy her things? She

opened her mouth to set her straight, but Audra cut her off.

“Listen, don’t get too attached.” She waved a manicured finger up and down, indicating Gemma’s

sweaty running clothes. “He’ll get tired of slumming and come back to me.”

She might be from the wrong side of the tracks but no one had any right to talk to her like that. She

wanted to walk away, she really did. Audra was looking for a battle, and she didn’t want to strike back

and give her any kind of satisfaction, but she couldn’t help herself from saying, “Slumming or not, he’ll be

in my bed tonight, not yours. Maybe I’ll wear my Jimmy Choos when I wrap my legs around his back.”

As Audra stood there with her mouth open, Gemma patted her thigh. “Here, girl.” Gracie trotted over,

and she grabbed her leash. Bolting for home, she cursed herself for her comeback. She was better than

that, dammit. Why the hell had she fought back? She didn’t care what people thought of her, but she didn’t

like Audra insinuating that Carson was slumming—that he thought she was nothing but a big ol’ slut.

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Less than an hour later, she spotted Carson’s car pulling into the back lot of Score. His shoes pounded

on her stairs, and Gracie’s tail banged against her pillow. God help her, if Gemma had a tail, it would be

wagging, too. She really shouldn’t be this happy to see him.

He raised his hand to knock, but she pulled the door open before his knuckles connected. He reared

back when he saw her.

“What?” She glanced at his dress shirt and pants, then looked at her outfit. Was she overdressed?

Underdressed? A nervous hand went to her necklace, and she toyed with it.

He stepped into her, his fingers splaying on the small of her back. “You look beautiful.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she said, suddenly breathless when she felt his cock through his black dress pants.

“You look really nice, too.” She put her hand on his chest and felt his heart beneath the crisp collared

shirt that showcased his broad shoulders. The deep shade of blue matched his eyes.

He dragged his thumb over the back zipper of her dress. “Did you buy this for tonight?”

“Yeah, I needed something appropriate.”

“You look amazing, but you didn’t have to do anything special to impress my parents.”

“I’m a bit worried they won’t like me, which will cause more problems, more battles for you in the

end.” Then again, if they didn’t like her, it would make breaking up easier. They’d be relieved come the

end of summer—happy that Carson wasn’t marrying beneath his status—and Gemma wouldn’t feel so

guilty about the ruse.

He bent forward, his lips inches from hers. His heat and strength surrounded her, and her body

responded with a tremble. “As long as I like you, they’ll like you.”

“I’m not Audra.”

“Thank God.”

“I don’t think she really liked me.” She frowned and bit back the jealousy rising in her. “She likes you,

though.”

He scoffed and backed away. “It’s not me she likes, Gemma. It’s the lifestyle—the name, what I can

offer her. She’s fake. Like everyone else I know. ”

“I don’t know about that. I saw the way she was looking at you.”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about her. Let’s talk about us.”

“There is no ‘us,’ Carson. I’ve been giving it some thought, and we should keep this a business

arrangement only.”

“Really.” He looked past her shoulder. “That’s too bad. Because tonight, after I bring you back home, I

plan to tear this dress from your body and take you up against that wall.” Heat moved into her cheeks, and

he brushed his thumb over her warm face. “Medically speaking, we do have to do something about this

tension between us.”

He touched the sleeve of her dress, running the material through his fingers. “I don’t normally do house

calls, but in this situation, I’d be negligent not to.” A little whimper caught in her throat, and it gave him

all the encouragement he needed. “I could take you so good against that wall—your legs around me, nails

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digging into my back as I fuck the hell out of you until you come all over me.”

Her knees wobbled. “No…no wall sex,” she protested, squeezing the words out past a tightening throat.

“Oh, if it’s wall sex you don’t like, then maybe you’d prefer to heat things up in the shower.”

She’d never had shower sex before. What would that be like? Her hesitation seemed to do something to

him. “Hot water, suds…you with your hands braced on the wall, back arched. I could fuck you so good

like that, Gemma.” His dirty words sucked all the oxygen from her lungs. “I could slide my cock in so

deep, and slam into you so hard, you wouldn’t even remember your name.”

She couldn’t remember it now. Her hips moved, and her sex clenched, aching for it. “No shower sex,”

she somehow managed to say.

He glanced into her small living room. “Ah, maybe it’s coffee table sex you’re into. I could bend you

over the table, slowly slide your panties to your knees, put my fingers inside you and make you scream for

me. Then, I’d take you soft and slow at first, to build your orgasm, and then I’d grip your shoulders for

leverage and pound into you. Or maybe you’d rather I lay you out on top of it, so you could watch me fuck

you. Yeah, maybe you’d like to watch my cock slide in and out.”

Her body grew tight, burning with sexual tension as this man, unguarded and powerful, stared down at

her, offering to give her the best, hottest sex of her life. Why on earth would she refuse that?

“But hey if you don’t want any of that, fine.” He took a step back.

Her gaze jerked to his, disappointment forming a dark cloud as her pulse beat away at the hollow of her

throat. I am in so much trouble.

“All I’m saying is there is so much tension between us, and as a physician I was just prescribing—”

“Carson…”

He stepped back into her, crowding her, and her arousal crept higher. His head lowered, and he

brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. It was all she could do not to lick it, suck it into her mouth. Heat

crawled up her neck, and she had no doubt her cheeks were scarlet. He was a doctor, and would damn

well know the signs of arousal when he saw them.

“What?” he asked, his warm breath seeping under her skin and stirring all the desire bubbling up inside

her. “Do you need more time to think about it?”

Of course she didn’t need more time to think about it. After what he’d just promised, she was definitely

going to have sex with him. It might be against her better judgment, but his prescription for against-the-

wall, in-the-shower, and bent-over-the-coffee-table sex sounded just about right.

He inched back, staring at her, unblinking and in full control as she broke before him, shattering like a

damn piñata, desperate to have his hands on her body, his mouth between her legs.

“You look a bit feverish.” Hooded eyes dropped, feigning innocence as he went into doctor mode.

“You sure you don’t need something to help cool you down? I could give you two—”

She drew a long, unsteady breath and glared at him, knowing full well what he was implying. He

obviously knew he’d gotten to her, and she wasn’t sure whether to smack or kiss that cocky smirk off his

face. Well, two could play his game.

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“Speaking of taking two,” she said, stealing back the control. “Gracie, why don’t you come over here

for a second.” Carson backed up, laughing, knowing full well what she was implying. Gracie came

rushing over. She gave her dog a pat on the head. “See you later, girl. Be good.”

Lord knows later on I’m not going to be.

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Chapter Seven

Carson put his hands in his pockets and adjusted his pants. All Gemma had to do was glance down to see

how hard she made him. He liked teasing her, playing with her, and showing her how much they wanted

each other, but Jesus, at the end of the night, if she refused him, pushed him away…

She locked the door behind them, and he led the way to his car. Music drifted from the open window in

the bar, and laughter could be heard as he opened the passenger-side door for her.

She cocked her head, her long hair falling over her shoulder. “Well, aren’t you a gentleman.”

He put his hands on her hips, holding her to him. “Yeah, I am. You’re in my hands now, Gemma, and

you can be guaran-fucking-teed that I plan to take good care of you. You’re mine for the summer, and

anything you need, I plan to give you.”

She visibly quaked, her lashes fluttering. Despite her body’s reactions, she lifted her chin a little higher,

an unconscious gesture of defiance. “You know I can take care of myself, right?”

“I know.” She might be strong and independent, but he was protective by nature, and she’d damn well

have to get used to it. A door banged behind him, and he cast a quick glance over his shoulder. He caught

a glimpse of Jake walking to his Jeep. Their eyes met and Jake nodded, his glance flashing to Gemma.

Good, let the douchebag see him with her. Then he’d know she was off-limits and he could stop eye-

fucking her. “While we are on the subject of being in my hands. I plan on touching you tonight—a lot.”

She exhaled a shallow breath. “For show, right?”

“Partly.” A sound caught in his throat. “And partly because I want to.” He leaned in and brushed his

tongue over her bottom lip, a slow sweep, moist and languid. Her heated breath spilled over his face,

feeding his arousal. Fuck, he must be some sort of masochist. Now was not the time for the hard-on of all

hard-ons, not when he had to meet his parents for dinner. He just couldn’t seem to resist her, or her

sweetness. “You like when I touch you, don’t you?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave.

A car pulled into a spot near them, and she shot a nervous glance around. “I do.”

“Good.” He let go of her hips, and she slipped into the car. He leaned into her. “And you’d better get

used to people watching.”

He circled the front, climbed in, and pulled out of the parking lot. She stared out the window, but every

few seconds would cast a glance his way. “You’d better tell me everything I need to know before we get

to your place.”

“Okay, well, you know how we met, and I grew up in Manhattan. My dad’s a corporate lawyer, and I

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was going to go to law school until…well, there was a change of plans.”

“I actually knew you’d planned on law school. I overheard that at your party. So why did you change

your mind?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, painful memories flashing back. “Change of plans,” he

repeated. “Crystal is finishing her law degree, and Mom stays home and does charity work.” He saw her

frown and look at her hands. “What?”

“Are your parents…happy?”

He shot her a glance. “Why do you ask?”

“Crystal said something when I ran into her today.”

He scoffed. “No, they’re not happy. I’m not sure they ever were.”

“Why don’t they get a divorce then?”

A laugh caught in his throat. “Out of the question. How would that look?”

“If they didn’t marry for love, why did they marry?”

“They each had something the other needed. But it wasn’t love, and you can’t build a marriage on that.”

“I don’t get it. Then why are they trying to get you and Audra together? Don’t they want you to be

happy?”

“I don’t know, Gemma. They just want me to settle down.” He winked. “You’re not the only one with a

reputation. And maybe they think we’re a good fit and the love will come later. Or maybe they don’t even

care if it does. Audra isn’t the first daughter of a friend they’ve tried to set me up with.”

“Arranged marriages.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Carson, but I think your parents need to step

into the twenty-first century.”

He laughed at that. “Until they do, I just want them off my back. I’m a grown man, I make my own

decisions about who I want to spend time with.”

“How are they going to feel about me, truthfully?”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Gemma. You wouldn’t be their first choice, but I think once they get to

know you, they’ll like you. If they don’t, they’ll be dealing with me.”

“Okay. I like Crystal. She was really sweet when I ran into her.”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” He looked her way and smiled. “You’re going to be the sister she’s always

wanted.” Her head dropped again, and she started fidgeting with her hands. “What?” he asked.

“This is one dinner, Carson. I’m not getting involved. I don’t do ‘close.’ At the end of the summer, you

and I will both be leaving here.”

With a tug of the wheel, he turned the corner and headed toward his place. “You’re right. And if you

don’t want to get close, I understand. It will make it easier for you to walk away.” He knew firsthand how

good she was at that, but why? He had his reasons for keeping his distance, but what were hers?

She nodded. “Thanks.”

He pulled into the driveway and made his way around to the back of the house where he usually parked.

They climbed out, and he met her at the front of the car. She cast a quick glance over his shoulder toward

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the doors that led inside.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“A little.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “I’ve got you, Gemma, and you have nothing to be nervous

about. In, out, and it will be over before you know it. Then you won’t have to see them for the rest of the

summer.” At her slight chuckle, he asked, “What?”

“Nothing. It was just something Andy had said earlier.”

“You two go way back, huh?”

“Yeah, since we were kids. She was always there for me when Mom…” She stopped talking, like

she’d said too much. “She’s a good friend. The one person I can really count on.” She sucked in a quick

breath and blinked, her mask back in place. She pushed past him. “Let’s get this over with, Sailor Boy.”

His stomach tightened at that quick display of vulnerability. Dammit, he wanted to be the guy she could

count on, the guy she trusted and went to when she needed something.

What the hell?

Even if he wanted more, it couldn’t work. They’d both made it perfectly clear that they were anti-

marriage. He believed everyone wanted something from him, and she didn’t do close. He already knew

she was a runner. Plus they were both leaving at the end of the summer.

He turned and caught up to her. Keeping pace, he put an arm around her waist, and she settled against

him. They slipped through the back door of the house, and entered one of the sitting rooms. Gemma shot a

glance around, her eyes narrowing, as if she was trying to orient herself. Her gaze went to the large bay

window overlooking the ocean, the exact spot she’d stood when Jason had given her a spiked drink.

“You okay?”

She let go of his hand and stepped up to a picture on a nearby table. She picked it up to examine it

closer and ran her finger around the silver frame. Her nail tapped the glass. “Is this you?”

He followed her to the window and smiled. “Yeah, that’s me and my granddad.” He drew a breath and

let it out slowly. “I miss him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. It was a while ago. We were really close and used to spend a lot of time together before

he died.”

A small smile curved her lips as warmth lit up her eyes. “That’s so nice.”

He looked out toward the water, where his granddad’s sailboat still bobbed in the water. He pointed to

it and she followed his gaze. “We use to hang out on his boat. Talk, fish, cruise out to Montauk Point…

He’s the one who taught me how to sail.”

She ran her fingers over the sill of the bay window. “There was a model boat here. Just like that one. It

broke during the fight.”

His jaw clenched. “Yeah. Granddad had it handcrafted and gave it to me for my eighteenth birthday. It

actually meant a lot to me.”

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She laid her palm against his cheek. “I’m sorry, Carson. It was destroyed because of me.”

He scoffed. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You weren’t the one responsible, Jason was. I’d kick

the shit out of him again if it meant protecting you.”

“You didn’t even know me.” She crinkled her nose. “And I kind of snuck into your party.”

“I didn’t need to know you to protect you, Gemma. I’d never let any guy hurt any girl, even if she

crashed my party.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Why did you do that anyway?”

“It was Andy’s idea.”

He grinned. “Of course it was.”

“We saw you and your friend on the beach earlier that day and heard some girls talking about a party at

your place. We thought you guys were cute so—”

“You thought I was cute?”

She laughed and poked his chest. “Key word being thought.”

His chest puffed up. “Right, and now you think I’m a stud muffin.”

“Yeah, me and Ethel.”

He laughed and slid his hand around the back of her head, dying to taste her. His lips brushed hers,

barely a kiss, when someone cleared their throat.

He grinned and pulled back, meeting his father’s eyes. The fine lines beneath them deepened as the

older man watched them carefully, as if he could see through the ruse. “Hey, Dad.”

“Your mother sent me to find you.” A pink flush crawled up Gemma’s neck, and she pressed her hands

to her lips. For a girl who supposedly slept around, she sure was embarrassed at getting caught kissing.

“Gemma, it’s nice to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Call me Alistair.”

She nodded and relaxed in Carson’s arms.

“Come on.” He pulled her against him and followed his father to the kitchen. His mother was putting the

final touches on her famous strawberry shortcake.

“Gemma,” she said, her smile unsure, cautious. “Come in, come in.” She waved her over. “Have a

glass of wine. We have so much to talk about.”

“We do?”

“Of course we do.” She poured Gemma a glass of wine and pointed to the salad bowls on the island.

“Carson, Alistair, please grab those dishes and take them into the dining room.”

Since he wasn’t quite ready to leave Gemma alone with his mother, Carson stood there for a second,

ready to come to her rescue if she needed it, but his sister did it for him.

“Gemma,” Crystal said, rushing to her with open arms. Carson watched as his sister gave his pretend

fiancée a big hug, and a wave of unease moved through him. Shit. Crystal wanted to bond. Gemma didn’t

do close. Asking the girl from his past to play pretend with him might have seemed like a good idea at the

time, but now that the plan was actually in motion, he worried he might hurt those he cared about the most

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when they broke it off.

He grabbed a salad bowl off the counter and carried it to the dining room as the talk turned to dresses

and each exclaimed over the other’s style. He stepped back into the kitchen to collect his girl.

His girl?

Well, for the summer anyway. As the two women continued to bond, his mom stared at them with

cautious eyes. A knot tightened in his stomach. His mother had better play nice, or they were out of there.

He’d allow no one, and he meant no one, to ever hurt Gemma.

His mom clapped her hands. “Dinner is ready. Now come on, let’s all sit and have something to eat and

get to know one another better.”

Carson captured Gemma’s hand and guided her to the living room. “I hope you like seafood,” he said

quietly. He probably should have gone over a few more things with her before this dinner. But she wasn’t

the kind of girl who gave information away freely.

She nodded and glanced at the table. A tray full of lobsters sat in the center, along with an array of

salads. “Everything looks beautiful.”

Carson pulled a chair out and indicated for her to sit. She slid into the seat and he dropped into the one

next to her. Everyone filled their plates and broke into their lobster.

“So Gemma…”

The inquisition was starting.

“Mom, no.” Carson held his palm out. “Let’s all just have a nice dinner.”

His mother waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, Carson, stop. I was just going to ask Gemma if you two

have set a date.”

“Not yet,” she said.

“Well, I was thinking, we should have an engagement party, here at the cottage. The back garden is the

perfect spot.”

Carson gave a hard shake of his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not, son?” his dad asked. “I think it’s a great idea.”

Dammit. Gemma was right. This was going to get complicated.

His father raised his glass of wine. “To Carson and Gemma, and an upcoming engagement party.”

Everyone lifted their glasses. Gemma put hers to her lips and pretended to drink. He studied her, and

her smile wavered. She worked at a bar, yet didn’t drink. Interesting.

Crystal set down her glass, and smiled at Gemma from across the table. “What are you doing on the

weekend, Gemma?”

Gemma adjusted her napkin on her lap. “Ah, working in the evenings.”

“Where do you work, again?” his mother piped in, not about to miss an opportunity to pry.

“Score. I’m a waitress.”

His mom’s eyes went wide, and flashed to his dad’s as she straightened in her chair. “Oh,” she said.

“I’ve never been there.”

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“We mostly cater to the hospital. My best friend’s mother owns it. She used to be a nurse at the hospital

and saw a need.” She smiled at Carson. “Now we make sure the doctors and nurses are properly

nourished.”

Carson put his hand on the back of her head, and kissed her forehead. “And we thank you for that.”

“If you’re not busy during the day, maybe you’d like to help me,” Crystal said.

A little flush moved into Gemma cheeks. “With what?”

“I’m running a clothing drive for the shelter Carson oversees in the city.”

Her gaze shot to his. “Shelter?”

“Of course, you must know all about that,” his mother said. She angled her head, her eyes narrowing. “I

mean, you are engaged.”

“Of course she does,” Carson responded easily.

“Anyway,” Crystal continued. “I do it once a year, and collect clothes and toys for the women and

children in need. I’d love the company, and we can grab some lunch afterward.”

“Uh, yeah sure,” she said, and under the table, he put his hand on her leg, giving it a small squeeze.

“Will your family be coming to the wedding?” his mom asked, her subtle way of prying deeper into

Gemma’s private life.

She went stiff beneath his hand. “The only family I have is my mother, and she’s not well, so there’s no

way she could attend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Does she live nearby?”

“In Brooklyn, where I grew up.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting her someday.”

“She will like that, too.”

“Do you plan to continue at Score after you marry?”

“Mom,” Carson said.

“Gemma actually designs jewelry,” Crystal piped in. She touched the gem dangling around her neck.

“This is one of hers.”

His mother’s eyes went wide, a new light shining in them. “I’ve seen that jewelry. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Gemma said. She exchanged a look with Crystal, her smile warm and grateful. For his

sister to know Gemma was the genius behind GG designs, she had to have been checking into her. If

Crystal knew anything about the reputation she hid behind, she wasn’t letting on. “I’m so glad you like my

designs.”

“They’re beautiful,” Crystal said. “I have no talent for stuff like this. You’re making quite the name for

yourself. I know a lot of women wearing your designs.”

“Carson tells me you’re working on your law degree.”

She nodded, and his father beamed with pride. Gemma turned toward his father. “You must be so proud

that she’s following in your footsteps. Of course, I know you’re proud of Carson, too, even if he changed

careers mid-stream.” The room went quiet. Deadly quiet. Gemma squeezed Carson’s hand beneath the

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table, her brow pulled tight. “Um…” she said, her eyes darting around nervously.

Shit. Coming to her rescue he said, “We’re all proud of Crystal. Now why don’t you tell everyone more

about your business, Gemma?”

“Um, okay.” She touched her hair, her hand a little shaky, and Carson put his arm around her shoulders.

She smiled at him and relaxed a bit. “I could go on all day about design.”

Carson lightly brushed his thumb over the back of her neck as she talked. His heart thumped. Damn, she

lit up like a Christmas tree when she described the jewelry-making process, and how she used only the

finest gems. He couldn’t help but smile. Her energy and enthusiasm were contagious, but the honesty in

her eyes, the genuine openness, was what really drew him in. This was the Gemma he remembered. Not

an ounce of falseness about her.

“I want to open up my own shop in Brooklyn someday. There are all these new trendy little shops

opening and I—”

“Brooklyn?” his mother asked, her eyes narrowing again. She looked at Carson. “Are you taking a job

in Brooklyn?”

He leaned back in his chair. “We’re not sure what we’re doing yet.”

“Brooklyn is just so…”

“More wine, Diane?” his dad asked.

His mother picked up her glass and looked at Carson over the rim. “Well, there is lots of time to

decide, lots of places to live.” Her smile was wide, but there was a determination in her eyes. “Maybe by

the end of summer, I can convince Gemma to open up that shop in Manhattan.” Her gaze shifted to

Gemma. “I know a lot of people who would be interested in your work.”

“We’ll think about it,” Carson said, putting an end to the conversation and appeasing his mother for the

time being.

Two hours later, he was back in his car with Gemma. She exhaled an exaggerated breath when he exited

the driveway, and remained quiet for a long time, as if she was lost in her thoughts.

“I think that went well,” Carson finally said, sliding his hand across the seat to capture hers.

She shook her head and laughed. “I don’t know what color the sky is in your world, but that was a

disaster. I put my foot in my mouth about a dozen times, and now I have to go out with your sister on the

weekend, and plan an engagement party with your mother.”

“She’s pushy.”

She laughed. “Now I know where you get it.”

He drove the short stretch to her place and pulled into the rear parking lot at Score. With only a few

cars in the lot, there were plenty of open spaces. “I guess you can see why I wanted this whole pretend

engagement.”

“I think she just has your best interest at heart, and you know what? I’d kill for that.” He cast a glance

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her way, and his heart pinched when he glimpsed the vulnerability she went to great lengths to hide. “I

actually liked her. She seemed to warm up a bit after she found out I make jewelry.”

“It had nothing to do with the jewelry,” he said, even though that was most likely the case. “You’re just

loveable.” As soon as the word left his mouth, he stilled. She went equally quiet. Shit, he probably

shouldn’t be tossing around any L words here.

He pulled into a spot, and she said, “I can’t believe she wants to have an engagement party. I never

thought it would come to this.”

“Me, neither, and you were right. Tonight was a bit of a disaster.”

They climbed from the car, and he walked her to her apartment. She unlocked her door and found

Gracie asleep on her bed when they stepped inside. She turned to Carson, a new energy in the air as they

stood staring at each other.

“I guess there is only one thing we can do,” he said.

“What’s that? Break it off now, before we’re both in over our heads?”

“No. We’re already past that.” No fucking way was he ready to put an end to this thing between them—

whatever the fuck it was. Not until he’d gotten her out of his system once and for all. Until he did, he

wouldn’t be able to stop thinking of her, or move on with his damn life. He slipped his hand around her

waist and drew her close. Her body felt so fucking good against his; all he could think about was getting

her naked and pressing skin on skin. He dipped his head, his mouth close to hers. “It means we have no

choice but to get to know each other better.”

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Chapter Eight

His lips found hers, and she softened against him. The sexy moan that escaped her throat tightened the

sexual tension coiling deep inside. Fuck, he needed her again. Honest to God, chemistry like they had

didn’t come along every day, and he definitely needed to explore it further—to light it up and burn it out

—before it consumed him completely.

“You are the sexiest woman in the world,” he growled, inching back to see her, all of her. His gaze

raced over her curves, so sexy in her little blue dress, and his cock throbbed. She had a body worth

worshipping, and he needed her naked in the worst fucking way.

Her breathing changed as he backed her up, ready to push her against the wall and follow through with

everything he’d promised, but the sound of Gracie’s tail wagging on her bed stopped him. Fuck, it just

didn’t seem right having sex in front of Gracie.

“Change of plans,” he said.

“Carson,” she pleaded, her cheeks flushed, her body practically vibrating in his arms. Her groan of

protest turned into a moan of pleasure when he slid his hands up her outer thighs, pulling her dress up with

it. With little finesse and a lot of greed, he splayed his fingers along the backs of her legs, gripping her an

inch below the soft swell of her ass and lifting her onto his hips. Her thighs hugged his body, her long legs

curling around his back as he repositioned her. The heat of her sex seeped into his skin, and a loud moan

of sexual frustration escaped his throat. His hurried steps carried them down the hall, and he used his

shoulder to turn the light on. He kicked the door shut behind them, hard enough to rattle the few pictures

on her wall.

Her questing hands snaked around his neck, her mouth on his, warm, sensual…so damn hungry. He

returned those kisses, and spun around to press her into the wall.

He pushed against her, rubbing his cock against her sex. “All night I’ve been dying to get my mouth on

you.” Sliding his fingers through her hair, he kissed her lips, her chin, the hollow of her throat, unable to

get enough.

“Same,” she murmured.

“I need you naked.” He angled his head and caught a glint of silver on her dresser. An idea formed. A

delicious, wicked idea that made his cock throb. “I’m going to kiss every inch of you, then I’m going to

pound into you until you’re screaming my name. Tonight you’re mine, Gemma.” She moaned, and he

pulled her away from the wall so he could reach behind her and release her zipper. Her legs went to the

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floor, and she wet her lips as he stepped back. “Take your dress off. Show me your body.”

“What?” she asked, her eyes glazed, glossy with need.

“It wasn’t a question. Now take it off before I tear it off.”

She sensuously rolled her shoulder, letting the material fall down her arm. He sucked in a breath. So

did she. With a little whoosh, the dress fell to her ankles. A quick step and she was out of it, but when she

moved to take her shoes off, he shook his head.

“The shoes stay.” He remained motionless, taking in her lush curves, and the black lace that stood in the

way of his owning her body completely. And yeah, he planned to have every fucking inch of her tonight,

his way, every way. Honest to God, he was the luckiest guy alive to be here with her. He stood a moment

longer, just looking at her sweet curves.

“Carson,” she whispered. “Please.”

She reached for him, her hands pulling at his shirt, her greedy touches urging him on and damn near

making him insane. His pulse thrummed in his throat, lust surging through his veins and lighting his nerves

until he was burning up inside.

Needing to feel her skin against his, he tackled the buttons lining the front of his shirt, his big fingers

fumbling. Frustration grew, came to a peak. Fuck it. Patience at an end, he grabbed and tugged, and his

buttons fell to the floor and clattered away. She gave a broken gasp, the fire in her eyes deepening.

He grinned and stepped closer. “You liked that did you?” She nodded, and ran her hands over his chest.

He threw his head back. “Fuck, I love when you touch me like that.”

His hands gripped her rib cage, and he brushed her nipples through the black lace. “Carson,” she

murmured. “I need you naked, too.” Her lids were heavy, half-closed, her body breaking so beautifully

under his touch.

Her fingers tugged at the button on his pants, but if she touched him right now, he was likely to detonate.

He needed his fill of her before she went anywhere near his cock. He closed his hands over hers and put

them behind her back.

She whimpered in protest. “I need—”

“Me first,” he said. “Keep your hands there.” Letting go of her wrists, he brushed her nipples through

the lace bra until they were rock hard, begging for his mouth.

“Oh, yes,” she murmured.

As she spoke, her warm breath fluttered over his face, and he felt it all the way to his groin. “You like

that?”

“I like everything you do to me.”

Desire overwhelmed him at her admission, and he applied more pressure, the need to please her the

most important thing in the world right now. She arched into him, and a new kind of desperation took

hold. He closed his eyes in distress, everything about her fucking with his mind and body. Being with her

like this was as natural as breathing, and it would be so goddamn easy to fall for her.

What the fuck? He sucked in a sharp breath to keep himself together. They were just exploring a brief

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affair. Neither one of them was looking for any kind of relationship.

“I need you out of this so I can put my mouth on you.” He slipped one hand behind her back and

unhooked her bra. The lace fell forward, and he slid it off her shoulders.

“Oh my,” she said, her words tumbling out on a whisper. “What skilled hands you have.”

He grinned at her big bad wolf reference. “The better to touch you with, my dear.”

A smile played on her mouth, and she ran her fingers over his shoulders, her body eager for pleasure.

Good. Because he planned to spend the night giving her what she wanted. He leaned into her and dragged

his tongue over her nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Her sweet scent curled around him, and he

breathed her in, letting her perfumed skin fuel his arousal. A surge of pleasure shot through him, and he bit

back a curse as his cock ached.

Her hands raked through his hair, and he sank to his knees. He nipped at her panties, and tugged them

with his teeth, pulling them from her hips. She rocked against him, and his heart raced. A hard tug and he

had her panties at her ankles. She stepped out of them, and he dug his fingers into her thighs, pushing them

apart to make room for his greedy mouth. She shifted in her heels, spreading for him. He nudged her pussy

with his chin, and she gasped, rocking against his mouth. He gave her one long, slow pass with his tongue,

and inched back.

A cry caught in her throat as he climbed up her body, scooped her up, and carried her to her bed. A

gentle toss and she was sprawled out on the sheets, his for the taking. But that wasn’t enough for him. He

wanted complete surrender. Curious eyes never left his as he backed up and scooped the handcuffs off her

dresser.

Her entire body stiffened, and he couldn’t help but grin. He spun the cuffs around his finger. No way

would she be running out on him in the morning. Yeah, this might be her place, but she was a runner, and

she wasn’t going anywhere until he damn well let her.

“What are you doing with those?” Desire clouded her eyes, telling him so much.

“Do you really have to ask?” At his question, she quirked a brow, tough girl Gemma back in place, and

he laughed. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t want this.” She opened her mouth, but he cut off any smart-ass comment. “Trust me?”

He stepped up to her, his fingers barely making contact as he ran them over her fevered skin. Her entire

body quaked.

“I…yes,” she said.

“Good.” He looked over her quivering body. “Because I want to play with you.”

“I thought you said you didn’t play games.”

He laughed again. Look at her lying there, trying so hard to maintain control when her body was begging

her to hand herself over to him. “I do when handcuffs are involved.” Her dark lashes flickered, her chest

rising and falling as her neck and face flushed pink. “Tonight you’re mine, Gemma. No running. No

escaping.” He gave her two seconds to chew on that and said, “Now, hands above your head.”

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Her fingers flinched. “You’re pretty bossy,” she said, her voice a breathless whisper.

“I’m waiting.”

Her chin lifted. “What if I don’t want to?”

“You do.”

“Oh really?” She clamped her thighs shut, but her voice lacked any kind of conviction.

“Yeah, really.”

“What are you, some kind of expert?”

“As a matter of fact I am.” His gaze raked over her sweet face and her gorgeous body, taking her in

from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “Let’s see. Flushed skin. Feverish, really.” He touched her,

a light brush below the soft swell of her breast, and then dragged his hand downward. When he reached

her sex, his fingers lingered for a moment then retraced his path upward. “Rapid breathing. Dilated

pupils. Arched back.”

She wet her mouth, and he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. He brought it to his mouth and licked it.

She whimpered, her hips shifting on the bed “Oh, yeah, you want this, Gemma. And now you’re going to

do exactly what I tell you to.”

After one agonizing moment of hesitation, her hands crept upward, toward the bedpost. Pleasure burst

inside him, and he damn near wept. She was perfect. So fucking perfect.

“Open your legs.”

Her thighs inched apart, and it nearly brought him to his knees. As she exposed herself to him, offering

herself up so nicely, he tossed the cuffs on the bed for later, and walked around the bed, taking her all in.

His cock throbbed so hard he was sure the pressure was doing damage. He grabbed his dick and shifted it

inside his pants. She bit her bottom lip as she watched. “You are so sexy.”

He looked his fill, taking his sweet time, even though he wanted to bury his face between her legs and

ravage her. Christ, the things this woman did to him without even trying.

She writhed shamelessly, and he liked it. He liked it a lot. “Carson, please.”

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

He climbed onto the bed, eased her knees apart, and positioned himself between her legs, his body

begging him to get naked and fuck her already. But he didn’t want to rush. He wanted so much more than a

quick, hurried orgasm. He wanted to take his time and savor her for the rest of the night, and he was damn

well going to do things his way, even if it meant handcuffing her. His hands went to her thighs, and he

tugged, bringing her ass up, and her legs around him. Her shoes clicked behind his back, and the sweet

sound sent vibrations straight to his cock.

He ran one hand over her stomach, caressing softly. “Is this what you want?”

She tossed her head to the side, her hair splaying across the bed. “Yes…”

He feathered his fingers over her flesh, slowly inching toward her sex. His thumb found her clit, and an

erotic whimper filled the room. Need swamped him when he found her hot and wet. He put a finger inside

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her, and her hips soared upward, her body seeking relief. Blood pulsing hot, he pulled his finger out and

plunged in again, knowing just how to touch her, and stroke the hot bundle of nerves inside.

“That’s it,” she cried out, her breath racing.

Lust sang through him, and it was all he could do to rein in his need. “You like that, huh?” Christ, he

hardly recognized his voice.

She moved her body, and he repositioned himself. He withdrew his finger and gripped her legs,

spreading her wider as his mouth went to her sex. He licked her, then delved deeper. His tongue swept

over and in, swirling, licking…devouring. Jesus, he needed this. Feeling a little crazed, a little out of

control, he plunged into her, and her legs tightened around his face.

“Carson,” she cried out, her body breaking beneath him. He stayed between her legs, nurturing her

release with his tongue, and once she stopped shaking, he abandoned her sex, grabbed her hips roughly,

and flipped her over. She gasped and gripped the bed sheets, her fingers curling into them. “Hands over

your head, now.”

She said something, but he couldn’t make out her muffled words. Her hands flew upward, and he

crawled over her, slipping the cuffs through one slat of the headboard and securing them around her

wrists. He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under her hips, raising her ass up to him.

“So nice,” he growled, running his fingers down her spine, until he reached the soft swell of her

backside. He kneaded her flesh then gave her a little slap.

“Ohh…” she whimpered.

“Don’t move.” He opened his pants. Relief washed over him as he pushed them to his knees and freed

his cock. Shoving his hand into his pocket he grabbed a condom, bit into the foil like a man starved for

more than just sex, and sheathed himself.

He gripped the base of his cock and ran the head over her sex. She moved against him, and in one quick

thrust he drove into her. Tight. Hot. Mind-blowing. She gasped, and he gave her a quick second to catch

up as his cock throbbed.

“Okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” She moved her hips, and he rocked with her. Together they created a rhythm, each giving and

taking. His muscles rippled, and he angled his body for harder thrusts. Her body rose up to meet his,

sharing in his urgency. Christ, she was so responsive it was all he could do to keep his shit together.

He powered forward and then withdrew, only to slam home again. Each hard push was met with a cry

of ecstasy. Sweat collected on his brow, and there was nothing he could do to leash his control. His body

ached for hers. He was desperate to release inside her, mark her as his. He crashed into her, teetering on

the edge but not quite ready to fall over. He craved more, all of her. Tension rose in him, and he gripped

her shoulders for better leverage. His heart pounded. His lungs grabbed what little air they could as she

grew hotter beneath him.

“Carson,” she murmured.

His body trembled as she clenched around him, her orgasm draining every ounce of strength he

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possessed. “That’s it,” he murmured, his breath growing shallow.

With a restless hunger he couldn’t seem to sate, he pushed into her at a maddening pace, blunt strokes

that prolonged her orgasm and brought on his. He closed his eyes, sinking into a haze of nothing but

sensation. Tension eased from his body as he answered the pull in his groin, letting himself go high inside

her. Their moans mingled, hovered, and fell over them like a warm blanket.

With their bodies still unified, he collapsed on top of her, breathing hard and heavy against her back.

She stretched out beneath him, the handcuffs jangling on the bedpost. He lifted slightly to see her, and

marveled at the things she made him feel. There was no woman in the world so sexy, so perfect. Honest to

fuck, she took his breath away, and he wanted her again. Right now.

He discarded the condom, grabbed a couple tissues from the box on her nightstand, and cleaned them

up. She wiggled against his hand when he slipped it between her legs. He grinned, loving this side of her.

He put his mouth close to her ear. “Key?”

“Dresser.” She sounded drowsy and sated. A well-fucked woman. He liked her all warm and soft like

this, but when it came to being sated, he was pretty sure he’d have to take her another two, or fifty, times

before he had his fill.

Slipping off the bed, he found the handcuff key and released her hands. “Come here.” He dropped onto

his back and pulled her close, gently rubbing her wrists. Her hair tickled his face as she rested her head

on his chest. He brushed it back and fought off a yawn.

Her breathing changed, became softer, and she snuggled in tighter. They stayed quiet for a long time,

both lost in their own thoughts. Warm fingers splayed over his stomach, and she gave a contented sigh.

Bedding rustled as he covered them, his mind replaying the dinner with his family. No way could he let

Gemma plan an engagement party with his mother. That wasn’t a part of the agreement, and he’d never ask

her to do anything that made her uncomfortable. Christ, it was supposed to be simple. One dinner to get

his mother off his back. Now he feared he’d made things more complicated.

He caressed her arm, and she quivered. “You didn’t drink the wine tonight,” he said quietly.

She lifted her head, and sleepy eyes met his. “What?”

“You didn’t drink the wine. You only pretended.”

“Aren’t you observant? And you’re right. I didn’t drink the wine. I only took the glass because I didn’t

want to be rude.”

“You don’t drink?”

She nestled against his chest again, her fingers lightly brushing his stomach. A long pause and then,

“No.”

“Because of what happened at the party?”

“No, not really.”

She tightened up, and he guessed he’d hit another sore spot. He went quiet and waited a long time for

her to speak. He wanted to know more—everything—about her, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Then

again, this wasn’t supposed to get personal.

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“My mother is an alcoholic,” she whispered. “I don’t want to end up like her.”

His chest squeezed at the sadness in her tone. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

He shook his head, and grasped for something to say, to make her feel better. “Parents. It’s always

something, right?”

She looked at him again, with a longing in her eyes that tugged at his heart. “I actually liked yours,

Carson. Your mom cares about her family.”

“I know. It’s just that I hate the falseness of it all, you know.” When she nodded, he asked, “What about

your dad?”

“He was never in the picture.” She made a noise, a snort of sorts. “He left when I was a kid. But I grew

up with plenty of father figures.”

He pulled the blankets up higher, tucking her in tighter. “Ah, I take it they weren’t good ones, though.”

“It was good when they left.”

“Why did they leave?”

“I don’t know, but eventually, they all did. They’d walk out the door, ignoring my mother’s pleas for

them to stay. But they always left her, and left me to pick up the pieces. She could never be without a man,

and I swore I’d never rely on one. ”

The puzzle that was Gemma began to click together. No wonder she acted so tough. She did it to protect

herself—to keep people out. “They didn’t just leave your mom, Gemma. They left you, too.”

She went quiet for a long time. “Yeah. Some weren’t nice, were even emotionally abusive, but others

actually were kind, and when I was young, I did get attached. I wanted a normal family, you know? As I

got older, though, and watched so many leave, I got to the point where I didn’t even bother to learn their

names.”

“Is that why you don’t do names, because eventually everyone leaves?”

“Something like that.”

He shifted to his side and lowered himself on the pillow until they were face to face. He brushed her

hair back, and her eyes fell shut. “Gemma.”

Her lids opened. “Yeah.”

“Why did you let me take your virginity and then just walk out of my life?”

“I just did.”

“I never understood it. You didn’t even know me.”

“Carson,” she murmured, glancing away. “I just…I just needed you that night.”

“Why?” he whispered.

“I was a nobody, and you were so sweet. You wanted me, and I needed to be wanted.”

The quiver in her voice stopped him from pressing, but he had a damn good idea why she’d run away.

She clearly had trust issues, and she’d been protecting herself. He’d been just a guy she expected to leave,

because eventually everyone did. If she got out first, she couldn’t get hurt. His heart squeezed for the

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lonely girl who’d had to put on a tough bravado just to face the world.

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “I just want you to know I looked for you.”

“You did?” Her words tumbled out on a fluttery breath.

“Yeah, but no one knew you. I spent a lot of years thinking about you, and every time I moved to a

different city, I’d look for you.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Yes.” His gaze moved over her face. “Why do you find that so hard to believe?”

“No one ever cared…” Her voice fell off. “It was a long time ago. We were kids.”

“Just so you know, you weren’t a nobody. Not to me.”

She angled her head, her eyes a bit shiny. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What did I say wrong at dinner tonight? What about your switching careers made everyone so tense?”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. He should have known that question would come up sooner or later.

He supposed he owed her an explanation. If they were going to present a united front, they needed to

know more about each other. It wasn’t something he’d ever talked about, but the way she’d opened up to

him tonight, he wanted to tell her.

“My sister was drugged. I couldn’t prevent it, the way I did with you.”

She gasped. “Oh my God, Carson.” She went up on her elbow and placed her hand on his face. Her

touch went right through him. “What happened? Was she…?” Her words fell off, as if she couldn’t bring

herself to say them.

He nodded, his throat too tight to speak. The warmth of her palm seeped under his skin, and he leaned

into her.

“This had something to do with you switching careers?”

He nodded again.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea, otherwise I never would have said anything. You know that, right?”

“I know.” A sound caught in his throat, and it almost hurt to breathe as old memories bombarded him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The memory of finding Crystal on the

floor, half dead from the drugs that asshole had slipped into her drink, still haunts me, Gemma.” Her arms

went around him, and she shuffled closer. Warm hands traced over his back, comforting, soothing, pushing

back the darkness that lived inside him.

“I had no idea how to revive her. I was eighteen years old, just off to college. I’d come home for

Christmas and heard about a party. I didn’t know she would be there. She was only sixteen and had lied to

our parents about where she was going that night. When I found her on the floor in one of the upstairs

bedrooms, I didn’t know what to do. So I just called 911.” He tightened his hand on her shoulder. “I

swore to God I’d never feel so helpless again.”

“She’s okay now, though, Carson,” she said quickly. “She seems happy.”

“She is.”

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“Thanks to you.”

“She feels guilty, though, and I wish she wouldn’t.”

Her brow furrowed. “Guilty about what?

“I went after the guy and nearly beat him to death.” He made a fist and looked at his knuckles. “I was so

enraged, I didn’t even know what I was doing. I got arrested.”

She gave a slow nod of understanding. “That’s why you didn’t go into law,” she said quietly, almost to

herself. She took his hand in hers and held it, her touch like a healing balm.

“These hands save lives every day, but I’d do it again in a minute, Gemma. I would.” He breathed in

and let it out slowly. “Do you hate me for that?”

“No,” she whispered.

“You probably should.”

“I don’t. You’re a good guy, Carson. Your sister said you were the best guy she knew, and she was

right.” She swallowed. “You saved me,” she whispered. “You protected me from your friend.”

“He’s no friend.”

“The shelter Crystal was talking about. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a women’s shelter. We provide beds, food, and other resources, like medical help and counseling,

to women and children in crisis. Crystal does a clothing and toy drive every summer. That’s what she was

talking about. I move around a lot and have pretty much been involved with a shelter in every city.”

Gemma nodded slowly. “We have one in Brooklyn. It’s close to the hospital, unfortunately. Mom won’t

go anywhere near a hospital. If we had one closer, maybe I could talk her into getting some counseling.”

“I can look into that for you, if you like.”

She went deathly quiet. “You’re a good guy,” she whispered again, her eyes cast downward.

Needing to lighten the mood and put a smile back on her face, he nudged her. “Hand me those cuffs, and

I’ll prove you otherwise.”

She smiled, but he could tell it was forced.

Coolness enveloped him as she pushed away. “I need to take Gracie for a walk.”

Ah, the great escape artist in action.

“I’ll go with you. It’s late and dark, and I don’t want you in the park by yourself.”

One hand went to her hip, her look haughty, but there was something lingering beneath that indignation.

Was it pleasure disguised as annoyance?

“I’m capable of taking care of myself,” she said.

“I know, but I’m coming with you. As long as I’m around, I’m taking care of you. I told you that. So get

used to it.”

She mumbled something about bossy pants and pushed the sheets off.

He laughed and grabbed the handcuffs. “Besides, I don’t want you running away. I’m not nearly done

with you tonight.”

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Chapter Nine

“You’re kind of glowing.”

Gemma shot Andy a glance, and realized how little time they’d spent together since Carson had come

into her life two weeks ago. Andy had been working the night shift for the last couple of weeks, but her

friend being tied up in the ER wasn’t the real reason Gemma hadn’t seen much of her. No, it was because

she’d been tied up with Carson. Literally. They fell into bed together nearly every night, and he

continually impressed her with his sweet bedside manner and oh-so-deft hands.

“I am not glowing,” she countered, and smoothed one hand over her sundress. “It’s hot back here.”

“Speaking of being back here.” Andy glanced around the kitchen, and Gemma followed her gaze, taking

in Score’s staff and servers, who were all hurrying around to cover the lunch-hour rush. “What are you

even doing here, anyway?” Andy checked her watch. “Isn’t it your day off?”

“I’m just making a couple of sandwiches.”

Andy tapped her nails on the stainless steel countertop. “Oh? Who for?”

Gemma cut the bread, wrapped the sandwiches, and stuck them in a takeout bag. “None of your

business.”

“Since when did you start doing deliveries, anyway?”

She grinned at her best friend. “Dave is out on a run, so I thought I’d help him out.”

“Right,” Andy said, laughing. “You’re full of it. Those are for you and Carson.”

She laughed, too. “Yeah, we’re going out on the boat this afternoon.”

Andy gave a wistful sigh. “Truthfully, though—is the sex really so good that you’re making him one of

your famous turkey sandwiches?”

“Yeah, it’s that good, and I need to feed him to keep up his stamina.” She gave her friend a playful

wink. “This is all about me, Andy.”

“And meeting his family, that was all about you, too?”

“No, that was for Carson,” she admitted. “Part of the arrangement.” She neglected to tell her about the

engagement party his mother insisted on planning, with or without Gemma. Andy would definitely go into

lecture mode over that one. Carson had tried to talk his mother out of it, but she was an incredibly pushy

woman. For now, they were riding it out and hoping to keep pushing the date back until after they faked

their breakup at the end of summer.

“And they liked you?”

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“They appeared to.” Gemma shrugged. “I went out with Crystal a couple of weekends ago. We did

some charity work and had lunch. She’s really great.”

“So you’re falling for all of them, then? Carson and his family?”

“No,” she answered quickly. “I’m not. I was cornered into spending time with Crystal, and the only

thing between Carson and me is sex, that’s it.”

“Really good sex.”

“Yeah.”

“And you still know what you’re doing?” Andy grabbed a piece of turkey from the plastic container and

popped it into her mouth. “You’ve got everything under control?”

“Yes.”

Andy’s voice dropped, becoming more serious. “Carson has a real reputation with the ladies, you know

that, right?”

An unwise pang of jealousy gripped her stomach. “I have a question. Do the hospital staff all sleep with

each other, like I see on the nighttime doctor dramas on TV?”

“Oh, yeah, they do. So I know what I’m talking about. And if he hurts you, Gemma, I will personally

remove his balls.”

She chuckled. “Thanks, but I have Gracie for that.” When she looked back up, she found Andy watching

her carefully. She cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, pulling herself together.

“When he leaves at the end of the summer, you’re not going to be heartbroken, are you?”

“Nope.”

Andy pushed off the counter. “All right. I’m off to get some sleep. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Let’s catch a movie this weekend,” Gemma said, feeling a little bad about the lack of time they’d been

spending together.

Andy left the kitchen, and Gemma packed away the turkey and snatched two cans of soda to go with

lunch. She grabbed her purse, paid for the food, and went out the back to the rear lot. When she found

Carson leaning against his car waiting for her, looking warm, relaxed, and so sexy, her heart did a little

jump.

Careful, Gemma. He’s a guy you could easily fall for.

“Hey,” he said, bending to give her a kiss on the mouth when she reached him.

She held up the bag. “I hope you like turkey.”

He took the bag and put it in the backseat. “It’s food isn’t it?”

Laughing, she circled the car and slid into the passenger seat. She studied his profile as he drove, taking

in the hard ridges along his jaw, and the stubble on his chin. She breathed in his scent, and he turned her

way. His face softened, and he smiled.

“Did you bring a suit?” he asked.

“You didn’t say anything about swimming.”

“Doesn’t matter, you don’t need one.”

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“If you think you’re dunking me fully clothed again, you can forget it.”

“No, but we have to take a dip. It’s a beautiful day.”

“So you’re suggesting we skinny-dip.”

He gave her a sexy, lopsided grin. “It’s not really a suggestion.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t like swimming in the ocean.”

He took the turn, and she leaned his way. His hand snaked out and captured hers. “Why not?”

“Did you not see Sharknado?”

He burst out laughing and she couldn’t help but laugh with him. God he was so fun to be with, so easy to

talk to. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”

“From a shark? Do we need to talk about how you reacted to Gracie?”

“Ah, pit bull, Gemma. Sharp teeth.”

“Ah, shark, Carson. Sharper teeth,” she returned, and he just laughed again.

He drove to the Southampton yacht club, squeezed his car in between two trucks and powered it down.

One hand went to her headrest, and he shifted to face her. Warmth moved into his eyes, and his fingers

brushed over her hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He brushed her curls from her face. The display of tenderness seemed odd coming from the

domineering man who played with handcuffs and literally took what he wanted. That wasn’t to say he

didn’t give as good as he got. The man was all about reciprocating.

She tightened her ponytail and, deciding to leave her purse in the car, grabbed their lunch from the

backseat. Carson popped the trunk, pulled out his backpack and shouldered it. Again with the backpack.

What did he carry in that anyway? Before she had a chance to ask, he closed his hand over hers and her

body reacted to his closeness, his heat. Hand-in-hand, they walked through the parking lot and along the

wooden dock. When she caught sight of the luxurious speedboat at the end of the marina, she pointed.

“Is that yours?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She crinkled her nose and took in the big boat. “Did your grandfather teach you how to sail this, too?”

He laughed. “Yes, and technically I’m not sailing it, I’m steering.”

They walked the length of the dock and when they reached the boat, he moved to the side and waved his

hand, gesturing for her to walk up the wobbly aluminum gangway. She grabbed the rails and shook them.

They rattled, and she swayed. “Well, technically, I’m still not too sure about this.” She shook the rails

again. “Is this even safe?”

“Yes, I’d never do anything to put you in danger.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He really was one of the good guys.

She slowly made her way up, thankful she was in flats and not heels. Good God, it was the biggest boat

she’d ever been on. She down glanced the length of it. Did it have its own staff?

“So, you really know how to steer this, Carson?”

“Yes, and out here, you can call me ‘Captain,’” he said, a note of amusement in his voice.

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“I think I’ll stick with Sailor Boy.”

He laughed, and it brought a smile to her face. When he grinned at her like that, like she was the most

important girl in the world, it was easy to forget this thing between them was pretend. Andy’s warning

came rushing back, and Gemma gave herself a quick lecture about what was real and what wasn’t.

He put his hand on the small of her back, his touch warm and intimate as he guided her on board. Her

body heated, and bathing suit or not, she was going to have to take a dip in the water just to cool herself

down.

She stopped when she reached the lower deck, and he came up behind her. His body was close, his

mouth near her ear. “I’m not a boy anymore, Gemma,” he said, his voice full of sensual promise.

No. No he wasn’t. He was all man. 100 percent alpha male. El Capitano, in every sense of the word. A

shiver moved through her when she thought about those controlling hands of his.

He guided her up a set of stairs to the top level of the boat, and they walked around a gorgeous bar with

chrome stools and headed toward the front of the cruiser. She took in the opulence, the luxurious white

leather seats, and all the areas for sun bathing. This boat was seriously out of her league, and a reminder

they were different people from different worlds.

She slid into the chair beside his. Looking right at home, Carson dropped his backpack, powered up the

boat, and took them out. She smiled as she watched him, and it was easy to tell he loved being on the

water.

“Tell me more about your grandfather,” she said as she reached into her bag for their food, wanting to

know so much more about him. She unwrapped his sandwich and handed it to him.

Carson bit into the bread. His eyes lit up. “This is good.”

“I use cranberry sauce instead of mayonnaise,” she explained, feeling silly that his enthusiasm made her

so happy.

He took another big bite and when he gave an exaggerated moan, she grinned. “Drink.” She handed him

his soda, bit into her own sandwich, and lifted her face to the sun. “Was it your dad’s father or your

mother’s?”

He cracked the can, took a long swallow and put it in the cup holder. “Dad’s.”

“Did you get along with your grandmother, too?”

“We lost Gran when I was young. Granddad came around a lot more then, especially after he retired.”

Carson waved to an elderly gentleman as they passed his anchored boat, and then he turned those ocean-

blue eyes on her. “He was a lawyer, like my dad. Gran never worked. She stayed home and raised her

family. She loved to knit and cook.” He held up his last bite of sandwich. “She would have loved these.”

He grinned like he was remembering something funny. “She would have loved you,” he said in a voice so

soft she had to strain to hear it. But then he frowned, as if he’d said too much.

She shifted in her plush leather seat. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet them.” He went quiet for a long

time. “I’m also really sorry the model boat he gave you got destroyed, Carson. Could it not be fixed?”

“No, it was damaged beyond repair.” He shrugged like it was nothing, but Gemma could imagine what

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the gift had meant to him. “At least I have my memories.” He steered the boat and took them farther from

the dock. Outside the marina, the choppy water crashed against the side of the vessel and they swayed

slightly.

“Do you have grandparents you’re close to?” he asked.

“No. It was just me and Mom, and too many…” She paused to do air quotes. “…uncles.”

“You had Andy and her mom.”

“Still do.”

“Seems like they were a good influence on you.” He snorted. “Except for Andy leaving you alone that

night at my place when she took off upstairs with my buddy.”

She rolled one shoulder, not at all upset by her friend’s action. “She liked the guy and went after what

she wanted.”

He wagged his eyebrows, his grin sexy. “So did you,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave.

“And I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah, we’re wild women. Really aggressive.” She wasn’t. Not really, but he didn’t need to know that.

He cocked his head, his gaze moving slowly over her. “I do appreciate you not sleeping around while

we’re faking this engagement. I hope it’s not been too hard on you.” She eyed him, took in the smile

playing on his mouth. “I’ve been trying to do my best to keep you satisfied.”

What the hell? Was he suggesting he could see behind the bad girl act she presented to the world?

While one part of her wanted him to look behind the mask, to see that she wasn’t easy, because what he

thought actually mattered to her, there was another part of her that needed that shield in place, especially

when it came to him. Andy was right. If there was one man who could hurt her, it was Carson, and she

knew better than to let him in a second time. Truthfully, this was a dangerous game they were playing, and

she needed to be careful—a whole hell of lot more careful than she had been so far.

Turning on the bad girl act, she said, “I know you’ve been trying, and I give you an A for effort,” she

said. “But I do like variation.” She was kidding, of course. She had no desire to be with another guy, and

this one man was beyond creative in the bedroom. He continually surprised her…pleasured her.

Carson chuckled but it died on his lips when he touched her chin and lifted her face to his. His eyes

were a deeper shade of blue when they met hers. A horn sounded in the distance, breaking the moment,

and she crinkled the sandwich paper in her hand. Carson let go of her chin, and she dropped the wrapper

into the takeout bag.

“About this skinny dipping,” she said, like it was something she did every day.

He cocked his head. “You serious?”

She fanned her face. “Sure, it’s hot out here.”

“Okay.” He looked around, steered them into a quiet cove, and dropped anchor. “Nice and private

here.”

Gemma stood and gripped the hem of her sundress. She peeled it over her head and grinned when

Carson’s groan reached her ears. “Your turn,” she said.

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He reached over his shoulder and tugged his T-shirt. Her gaze latched on to his hard chest as he tossed

his shirt away. Comfortable in her skin around him, she slipped her hand around her back and removed

her bra. Carson made quick work of his shorts, and once he was standing in front of her wearing only his

boxers, he put his hands on her rib cage in a familiar movement, his thumbs brushing her nipples.

Smoldering eyes latched on her breasts, and he murmured, “Maybe the swimming can wait.”

She worked to find her voice as her nipples hardened beneath his hands. “Oh? What do you have in

mind?”

His grin turned wicked. “How about a little of that variation you were talking about.” He slid one big

hand into her panties, and when his fingers connected with her sex—a long luxurious stroke that burned

through her—all thoughts of skinny-dipping were long gone. He pressed into her then drew out, and she

moaned and moved against his invading fingers. He stroked again, the friction setting her on fire. Honest

to God, the man was so good with his hands.

In a smooth move, he reached behind him, gripped the back of his captain’s chair, and swiveled it. He

withdrew from her, grabbed a condom from his shorts, and sank into his seat.

He crooked his finger. “Come ride me.”

Her skin grew hot, feverish, and it had nothing to do with the sun beating down on them. “Don’t you

mean steer you?”

He laughed but it came out sounding sexually tortured, painfully needy. “I’m the captain, not the boat.”

She laughed, enjoying the easy intimacy between them, but that laugh died an abrupt death when his face

went dead serious. “Now, get those panties off before I tear them off, and come straddle me. If you’re not

on me in two seconds, I’m going to bend you over that seat and show you a few more variations.”

While that sounded equally fabulous, she stepped up to him and, feeling completely naughty, gripped the

band on his boxers and pulled them until his cock popped out. “There is one thing I need to do first.”

Dying to taste him again, she dropped to her knees and took him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, and ran his fingers through her hair. She licked from his base to his crown, a slow

drag of her tongue. His cock jumped, and she smiled, loving that she could do this to him. Pressure

brewed between her legs as she swirled her tongue over him, and from his ragged moans, it would only

be a matter of time before he put a stop to her explorations.

He pulled on her hair. “Come here.”

She stood, and he lifted her onto his lap. He ripped into his condom and with a practiced ease she

didn’t want to think about, rolled it on. Hands that embodied control held her by her hips and lifted her as

he guided her onto his cock.

“Carson,” she murmured as he pulled her down, controlling the depth and penetration as he slowly

inched into her. She trembled, quaking on his lap, a desperate ache building inside. Dizzy from want, she

tried to impale herself, but dammit, he wouldn’t let her. “More. Please…”

She took deep breaths as he entered, inch by glorious inch, and once he was settled, he pulled her head

down, finding her mouth with his. She rocked against him, and his mouth devoured hers, slanting to get in

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deeper, tongue thrashing, seeking.

Her nipples brushed his bare chest, as his hands settled on her hipbones. He lifted her and pulled her

back down, burying himself in her so deeply she wasn’t sure how she’d ever walk away from this ruse

unscathed.

“You feel so good,” he murmured into her mouth as he powered upward to meet her body. His fingers

tightened on her hips, grasping roughly as he increased the rhythm, pulling her down harder and harder,

and angling his body for deeper thrusts. He filled her, stretched her, and she moaned at the erotic

sensations. He tilted her hips slightly and her clit brushed his pelvic bone.

“Oh,” she said, each downward pump stimulating her even more. Pleasure gathered, built rapidly as he

plunged hungrily. Christ, the man fucked like a god, and as much as she wanted this to last, there was no

way she could hang on. She closed her eyes, and her body let go, giving over to the powerful orgasm

pulling at her.

“Yes,” she cried, panting against his face. As she rode out the waves, she trailed kisses along his jaw,

his neck, and when she reached his collarbone, her fingers slid down his back, scratching lightly.

His breathing changed, became rough and ragged, and he gripped her shoulders, burying his face

between her breasts as he let go. He throbbed inside her and she groaned with pleasure. He threw his

head back and gasped for breath. He pulsed and she squeezed, her muscles rippling around him

Warm hands slid around her back, and she crumpled against his chest. She lay there for a long moment,

just breathing in his scent, then his hands cupped her head and lifted it.

“Damn,” he murmured softly. He pushed her hair back, his gaze caressing her as it moved over her face.

“Damn,” he said again, then pressed his forehead to hers.

She swallowed. Hard. This is what she did to him? This is what having sex with her actually did to

him? Her heart nearly failed. She’d never reduced a man to one-syllable words before. It played havoc

with the things she was feeling for him.

“Jesus, Gemma.”

He splayed his hand over her chest, and the heat from his fingers seeped into her skin. A deep need

rolled through her. She could really get used to this.

He kissed her again—soft, less hurried, the connection imbued with a new kind of tenderness. A quiver

moved through her, and she sucked in a breath, his gentleness—his lovemaking—complicating her

mission to keep this thing between them purely physical. Cripes, she’d gone into this expecting him to

prove he was like every other guy, caring only about himself and his own needs. If only he had, then it

would be so much easier to forget about him once the time came.

“You are incredible,” he whispered, his thumb brushing her bottom lip.

She worked to pull herself together and prayed her voice didn’t come out as shaky as she felt inside.

She studied her nails, feigning boredom. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

His chuckle curled around her, warming even her coldest depths. “Need more variety?” he teased.

“I’m still waiting for you to bring your A game.”

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He laughed and whacked her ass. “How about that swim, tough girl.”

He lifted her from his hips, and as he pulled out of her body, she felt an incredible sense of loss. Oh

boy.

“Let me clean us up first.” He removed the condom and guided her to the small bathroom. He wiped

them down with tissue, pressed a kiss to her mouth, and just held her for a minute.

She laid her head against his chest and listened to his strong heartbeat. It pulled her in deeper and gave

her a false sense of security. But she didn’t do relationships, didn’t trust guys not to hurt her. And she

certainly wasn’t going to give her heart to a man who wasn’t asking for it.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Let’s swim.”

They made their way to the back of the boat, and both jumped off the tanning deck. The cool water felt

glorious, and helped her get her head on straight. They swam until the afternoon drifted away, although

she never strayed too far from the boat. Sharknado had been very convincing, after all.

They climbed back onto the boat, dressed, and headed in to the marina. She cast Carson a glance and

had never seen him look so content before. “What are you smiling about?” she asked.

“That was fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” And if she knew what was good for her, she’d put an end to all this fun right now. His

hand found hers, and he held it until they reached the marina. As he went about securing the boat, Gemma

took that time to pull herself together.

“All set?” he asked, shouldering his backpack.

She grabbed the takeout bag with their wrappers, and followed him off the boat. Silence fell over them

as they walked back to the car. He opened her door for her, and she slid in. Her leg kicked her purse, and

she reached inside to check the time on her phone.

“Shoot.”

Carson slid into the driver’s seat. “What?”

She worried her teeth over her bottom lip. “I missed a bunch of calls from my mom.”

“You’d better call her back.” She hesitated and stared at the phone. “Gemma?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She swiped her finger across the screen, her stomach in knots. The only time she

heard from her mother was when she was in between men and she needed something. Unease grew as the

phone rang and rang. Finally her mother answered with a weak hello.

“Mom, it’s Gemma.”

“I’ve been calling.”

“I know. I was out with a friend.” She cast Carson a quick glance and found him watching her. “Are you

okay?”

“No, I fell. I’m bleeding.”

She cursed under her breath. “Can you get to the hospital?”

Carson started the car and backed out of his spot.

“No. I hate hospitals. You know that.”

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“How badly are you bleeding?”

“I hit my head on the counter. I woke up on the floor.”

God, she had to have been drinking. “How long were you out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is Derek there?”

Her mother started crying, and Gemma’s heart sank. “No, he’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”

Outside the marina parking lot, Carson turned left instead of right. Gemma covered the phone. “Where

are you going?”

“Your mom still lives in Brooklyn right?”

She nodded. “Yes, but—”

“Then we’re going to check on her.” Gemma drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, embarrassment

ebbing through her. She didn’t want Carson to see this side of her life. It was hard for her. She shook her

head to stop him. “Carson…”

He put his hand on her leg and squeezed. “It’s okay, Gemma. Really. Tell your mom to find a safe spot

to lie down, and we’ll be there as fast as we can.”

Her heart crashed against her chest as she gazed at him. She really should say no, but there was no way

he’d turn the car around. He was possessive, and protective, and bossy as hell. But dammit, she didn’t

want to get used to having him around, or worse, start relying on him.

“Carson,” she said.

“Not going to happen, Gemma.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. Okay, she got it. He was taking her to her

mother’s place. End of story. Short of jumping out of a moving vehicle, there wasn’t a thing she could do

about it.

“Mom, I want you to lie down. I’m on my way. And I’m bringing my…” Carson cast a quick glance her

way. Blue eyes full of tender concern locked on hers, and the hand on her leg tightened as he stared, as if

he were waiting to hear her description of their relationship. But they didn’t have a relationship, right? He

was paying her to help him, and the sex was an added benefit. Christ, she really needed to get herself

together. “A friend.”

As soon as those two words left her mouth, Carson turned his eyes back to the road.

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Chapter Ten

Carson parked the car, and they hurried up the stairs to her mother’s apartment complex. Gemma used her

key to let herself in the security door, and they walked the three flights of stairs to her mother’s floor.

Gemma didn’t bother knocking but, instead, let herself in and held her breath, never knowing what to

expect. The door creaked open, and the smell of stale alcohol hit like the sting of a thousand angry

hornets. She crinkled her nose, and Carson shut the door behind them.

“Mom,” she called out and headed straight for her bedroom, passing empty gin bottles and a trail of

bloodied washcloths. Her stomach twisted, but the hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, gave her a

measure of comfort.

“Sorry. I should have warned you.” His tone was low and contrite. “Head wounds bleed far worse than

they usually are.”

Gemma swallowed hard, but nodded and moved on. She found her mom lying on the bed with a damp

cloth draped over her forehead. “Mom, I’m here.”

Her mom lifted one end of the cloth and peeled an eye open. She squinted against the lamplight, and it

took a moment for her to focus. “Gemma,” she said. She looked past Gemma’s shoulder. “This is your…

friend.”

“Mom, this is Carson. Carson this is my mom, Cara.”

“How are you feeling, Cara?” he asked, his voice so even and professional that it took Gemma by

surprise. She stood still, watching him, never having seen him in physician mode before—outside of

playing doctor with her, of course.

Cara shimmied up on the bed, her wrinkled T-shirt bunching at her waist and her cotton summery shorts

riding up her too-thin thighs. She blinked and grabbed her head. “Whoa.”

“Easy,” Carson said. “Slow down.” He slipped his backpack from his shoulder and let it dangle in his

hand. “How about if I take a look at that cut?”

Cara flashed him a smile and smoothed her hand over her hair. “Come on, now. I’m sure a fine-looking

man like yourself has better things to do with his time than look at my little old cut.”

Gemma’s jaw dropped. Seriously? Her mother was flirting with Carson?

“He’s a doctor, Mom.”

Her glassy eyes went wider. “A doctor, you say.”

Carson placed his backpack on the mussed-up sheets beside her mother and unzipped it. He pulled out a

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medical bag, and slowly peeled the zipper open, his hands moving with a grace she knew so well as he

sorted through the supplies. Gemma peeked into the backpack and glimpsed a change of clothes as well.

So that’s what he kept in there. She supposed he always needed to be prepared, for incidents like this, or

late nights at the hospital.

“If I could just take a quick look into your eyes.” He produced a slender penlight from the bag and

shone it in each eye, flicking it back and forth. Cara blinked rapidly. “Your pupils are equal and reactive,

so that’s a good thing. Now I need to check your wound,” he said. He spoke in slow, soothing tones,

describing what he was going to do and why as he gently probed the cut over her eye. In that moment,

Gemma was so grateful that he’d insisted on coming.

“Is she going to be okay?” she asked quietly.

“She’s going to need a few stitches, and I’d really like to get a CT scan of her head, just to be on the

safe side and rule out a concussion.”

“I’m not going to any hospital,” her mom piped up. “Nobody’s poking and prodding me, or doing any

kinds of experiments.”

Carson let out a sigh, but his expression suggested that he’d expected her reaction. “Or I can stitch it up

here. I have a laceration kit in my pack.”

Of course he did. She took her mother’s pale hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “Only stitches and a

CT scan of your head, Mom. No experiments, I promise.”

“No.”

“Then Carson will stitch you up here,” Gemma said, giving her mother no choice in the matter.

Carson stood. “Where can I wash up?”

She guided him from the bedroom and pointed to the bathroom. He made a move to go, but she touched

his arm, her heart pounding a little too hard in her chest.

“Carson,” she said quickly, her voice catching in her throat.

He turned to her and dipped his head. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his fingers going to her chin, a slow

sweep of his thumb that nearly made her lose her train of thought.

“Thank you.” She went up on her toes and placed a kiss on his mouth. He kissed her back, his lips

lingering, and the warm familiarity in his touch took her to a place where emotions ruled—a place she

swore she’d never go.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered into her mouth. “She’s going to be fine.”

“For tonight, anyway.”

He paused and put his arms around her. Strong hands dragged her in against his chest, and he kissed the

top of her head. “This is hard on you,” he said. It was a statement, not a question, so she didn’t answer.

She wasn’t sure she could get any words out past the knot in her throat, anyway. “And you’re right. I think

she could use some counseling. But one thing at a time, okay?”

She nodded against his chest, and he brushed her hair back. “I’ll get cleaned up and be right in.”

“You have everything you need to do that?”

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“Yep. You know me—always prepared.”

“Okay.” She swallowed, wishing she had better prepared herself for him.

He stepped into the bathroom, and she slipped back into the bedroom. Her mom’s eyes were closed,

and she was actually glad she didn’t have to make conversation. She wasn’t really in the mood to talk.

Carson came back to the bedroom and began pulling supplies from his bag and placing them on the

nightstand.

“I think she’s asleep.”

“Wake her, please.”

“Mom, wake up.” She nudged her mother, and Cara let out a big snore, her head jerking when she

awakened.

“Gemma,” she said, blinking as if she was trying to figure out where she was and why she was there.

“Carson is going to stitch you up now.”

She was about to help her mom up, but Carson touched her arm. It was like a squeeze to the heart.

“I need her to lie back, just like she is, but remove the pillow.” He went back to the bathroom and

returned with a towel, rolling it up as he walked. “Cara, I’m going to put this under your neck, okay?” He

squatted beside the bed and adjusted the towel. She tried to nod, but the movement was minimal. “It will

help to stabilize the head,” he explained to Gemma as he pulled a green packet labeled sterile towels

from the backpack. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a bit tricky, but we’ll do the best we can under the

circumstances.” He looked up from the array of supplies. “I could use an assistant.”

“Just tell me what you need.”

Something flickered in his eyes, an expression Gemma hadn’t seen before, and then it was gone.

“Come and kneel beside her,” he instructed, shifting to his knees and scooting over to make room for

her. “Talk to her, but appeal to the mother, not the patient,” he said quietly. She gave him a puzzled look.

He leaned over and whispered, “If you appear frightened by what’s going on, she’ll concentrate on

soothing you and not on what I’m doing.”

Gemma nodded, but wasn’t sure what to do or say.

As if sensing her uncertainty, Carson suggested, “You’re looking a little squeamish. Maybe you’d feel

better if your mom held your hand?” He leaned closer and whispered, “Lidocaine stings like a bitch when

it’s injected into the skin. Her natural instinct will be to grab at it. Fold her hands over her stomach and

hold them. Cleaning the wound will be easier for her if it’s numb.”

And so it began. Carson chatted with her mom as he drew the medication into a syringe. He squirted a

little of the lidocaine into the wound, changed the big needle for a tiny one and then did a couple of small

injections, gradually increasing the amount and depth as the skin blanched and became numb.

“I’m just going to clean the wound first, Cara.” He ripped the corner off a packet of antibacterial

cleanser and emptied it into the tray that had held the suture supplies he’d dumped out on one of the sterile

towels. “You’ll feel me touching you, but it shouldn’t hurt. You’ll tell me if it does, right?”

“You can count on it.”

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“I have no doubt,” he laughed, scrubbing the wound with a wad of gauze soaked with pink, soapy

liquid. After a bit, he checked the area and, satisfied that it was clean, tossed the gauze into the trash can

beside the bed. As he continued to work, he joked with her as though he’d known her all his life.

He turned to Gemma. “I need to create a sterile field. Can you help?”

She wasn’t sure what to do, but nodded anyway. He showed her how to open the supplies so they

dropped untouched onto the green towel with the other supplies. Then he pulled on a pair of pale yellow

gloves and bent over her mom, draping the remaining towels over her face until only the laceration was

visible.

The first pierce of her mother’s skin with the C shaped needle caused Gemma’s stomach to pitch.

Carson glanced at her, those astute eyes taking her in. “You can go in the other room if you want,

Gemma.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You sure?”

She nodded, and he returned to the task. Deft hands moved with a master’s precision. The second stitch

was a little easier. Gemma’s nausea had changed to fascination by the time Carson had finished the third,

closing the laceration just above the curve of the eyebrow.

He cut the last suture, dabbed the cut with antibiotic ointment, placed a strip of gauze over it and taped

it in place.

“All set,” he said quietly. He stood, his hands moving assuredly as he wrapped the used items in the

towels and repacked his supplies. He shouldered his backpack and, with a nod, gestured for Gemma to

join him in the hall. She followed him out and guided him to the small living room.

She put her hand on his chest, and he closed his over it. “It’s doubtful that she has a concussion, but

between the amount of alcohol she’s probably consumed, and the blow to the head, I don’t think she

should be alone.”

“Right. I’ll stay.” She pulled away and started toward the door to see him out. “I can take the bus back

tomorrow. I don’t work until the evening, so I’ll have plenty of time. I’ll text Andy and get her to take care

of Gracie.”

“Gemma,” he said, his voice soft, his tone low.

She turned and found him standing by the sofa, his eyes serious as he looked at her.

“What?”

“I’m not leaving.”

Her heart fluttered. “You don’t have to stay,” she said quickly, not wanting to admit that having him

here made things so much easier.

He sat and patted the sofa. “Come on. Let’s find something to watch.”

She stepped back into the living room and started gathering the bottles. “Carson—”

“Come sit, Gemma. You look exhausted. We can clean up later.” His gaze moved over her face, and he

was once again in doctor mode. “Actually, you look a bit pale.”

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“Blood,” she explained. “I could never do what you do.”

“Sit,” he demanded. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. Why the hell did he have to be so

sweet? Shaking her head, she shot off a quick text to Andy then sat down on the sofa beside him, and he

put his arm around her. She leaned into him and breathed in his scent, letting it wash away the smell of

stagnant alcohol and sadness.

He flipped through the channels, and she tried to stifle a yawn, sleep pulling at her hard. All the fresh

ocean air must be affecting her.

“Want to lie down?” he asked.

She grinned. It was hard to keep anything from him. “This is a one bedroom apartment.”

“Come here.” He pulled her down onto his lap, and stroked her hair. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“What about you?”

“I don’t need to lay down to sleep. My body is always so tired, I can fall asleep standing up.”

She laughed. “You’re like a horse.” Another big yawn threatened, and she put her hand over her mouth,

giving in to it.

He winked. “Yeah, in more ways than one.” She shook her head at his joke. “Now, close your eyes and

sleep.”

“So bossy,” she said. He was bossy. Terribly domineering and controlling, too. She’d never liked it

when a man took control, and had always prided herself on being the one to call the shots. But tonight

there was something comforting in having Carson take care of her. It didn’t make her feel needy or

dependent, or like a weak, helpless female who couldn’t be without a man. It actually made her feel a

little special.

Get your head out of the clouds, girlfriend. This is a fake engagement!

“Carson.”

He turned the volume down on the TV. “Hmm.”

“Why are you still single?” she asked, exhaustion breaking down her walls and allowing her to ask

questions she wouldn’t normally ask.

“I told you, I don’t like fake. Everyone wants something, Gemma.”

“Do you think Audra wants something?”

“Yes. My last name, and what’s in my wallet.”

“She thinks you two are a good fit. Your parents must, too, if they’ve been trying to set you up.”

“Which is why we’re in this engagement.” He exhaled slowly. “It doesn’t matter how many times I tell

them to back off, they think they know what’s best for me.”

“They don’t,” she said. “But they do care about you.”

“I’m not going to marry someone I don’t love.” A beat passed, and then he added, “I live in a world

with a lot of expectations placed on me. But fuck, I’m sick of it. My father wasn’t even happy that I went

to medical school. I actually disappointed him.” He scoffed. “And you know what, I fucking hate that I

disappointed him, Gemma. Hate that he looks at me differently because I damn near beat that guy to death.

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But fuck, come on.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “I guess I just want my parents to accept me for me,

and support my decisions even when I don’t make the right ones. And I want others to like me for who I

am, not the family I come from, or what I can give them.”

She went quiet, sensing he was sharing intimate details of his life that he’d never shared with anyone.

“This is who I am. Take it or leave it, right?” he added.

His instinct to protect and guard ran deep, not only others, but himself. Truthfully, they came from

different worlds, but they weren’t so different inside. Neither of them was willing to put themselves out

there. She wouldn’t risk the heartache that came with abandonment, and he’d closed himself off, unable to

stomach the social climbers in his world. Her heart hurt for him. Was wanting someone to like him for

who he was, and accept the decisions he made—good or bad—too much to ask?

“When did you first realize that everyone wanted something from you?” she asked, speaking in a

whisper. He went quiet for a long time. Too long. She lifted her head and took in the pain in his eyes. She

touched his face. “Carson?”

“That night, Gemma,” he whispered. “I realized it that night I took you on the pool house floor. You

gave me something and asked for nothing in return.”

He was wrong. She’d taken from him that night, too. His warmth, his kindness…his body. In turn, she

walked out the door.

“I’m fake, too” she said without thinking. Honestly, she was no better than the women from his social

circle. She’d taken without giving and walked around pretending to be tough and untouchable—something

she wasn’t.

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

If he knew she was fake, did that mean he didn’t like her, either? Of course it did. Well, physically he

liked her. He’d proven that over and over. But he didn’t like her, like her. She swallowed against the

dryness in her throat, a headache beginning at the base of her skull. Why the hell did that bother her so

much? She wasn’t looking for anything from him.

“Carson.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not really a…I don’t…”

“Gemma.”

“Yeah.” She yawned again, his fingers trailing through her hair, pulling her under.

“Get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Her lids fell shut.

The light streaming in through the open curtains roused Gemma awake. She moved, but her muscles ached.

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Damn, she must have twisted something on the lumpy sofa. As memories flooded back to her, she

stretched, blinking against the sudden light-headedness. What the hell? Slowly she inched herself up and

looked around the apartment, now clean.

“Carson,” she whispered.

“Hey,” he said quietly and she turned to find him coming her way with a cup of coffee. Honest to God,

the guy was just too good to be true. “Thank you.” She took a big sip. “Did you sleep?”

“A bit.”

She waved her hand around the tidied-up room. He’d cleaned up everything while she slept. “You

didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

She glanced down the hall, and unease filled her. If her mother kept this up, she was really going to hurt

herself, and it would take more than stitches to put her back together again.

“I checked on her. She’s sleeping and doing much better.”

Gemma glanced at the clock. “We need to get going. You have to work.”

“Yeah, we should hit the road. I work the night shift, and should grab a few hours of sleep beforehand.”

Feeling guilty that she’d slept and he hadn’t, she stood, her legs a bit weak beneath her. “I’ll just check

on Mom.” Hand on the wall for balance, she made her way to her mom’s room and peeked in to find her

sleeping. She stepped up to her, looked over her stitches, and fixed the blankets around her.

“All good?” Carson asked from the doorway, and when she looked at him, seeing him all mussed and

sleepy, her heart turned over in her chest.

“Yes.”

She left the room and followed Carson through the apartment. They stepped into the hallway and she

locked the door behind them. The warm morning air washed over her as they walked to the car.

“Want me to drive?” she asked.

He gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m fine. I’m used to functioning on little sleep.”

“Well, when you’re with me, you don’t have to. I can take care of you for a while.” She held her hand

out. “Now, hand the keys over.”

He stared at her for a minute, the warm appreciation in his eyes playing havoc with her heart. “And you

accuse me of being bossy.” His gaze moved over her face. “Actually Gemma, I would take you up on it,

but you still look pale.”

“I’m fine,” she lied, her stomach churning slightly.

“Okay, tough girl.” He made a fist and nudged her chin. “Next time, you drive. I’ve got it this time.”

They both slid into the car, and Carson began the two-hour drive back home. She sagged against the

seat, and he cast a glance her way.

“Does this happen often with your mom?” he asked quietly.

“Often enough.”

“Brought on by another ‘uncle’ going missing?”

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“Pretty much.”

“She won’t go to counseling?”

“She won’t go anywhere near a hospital. You saw the way she reacted.”

“What about a private practice?”

“I’ve tried, but it’s too close to the hospital.”

“What if I try?”

An invisible band tightened around her heart. Tears pricked her eyes, and she turned to look out the

passenger side window. “Carson, you’ve done enough already.” Christ, she was in way deeper than she

should be. If she didn’t get herself together soon, he’d be taking her heart with him when he left at the end

of the summer.

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Chapter Eleven

Carson raked his hands through his hair, exhausted after a long night in the ER. It was close to noon, and

he should have been out of there hours ago, but he’d wanted to stay and check on a patient first. Then he

got cornered by Kellan James, the hospital’s CEO, and had to listen to his tirade for an hour. Fuck. The

guy pissed him off. This was a hospital, not a fast food chain where they rushed clients in and out. Yeah,

sure there were budget constraints, but Carson would be damned if he didn’t give every patient the care

they needed, for as long as they needed. It made him want to quit the damn ER and open up his own

private practice.

That thought stopped him cold. He’d never wanted to stay in one place before. So why was he all of a

sudden thinking of putting down roots? Where the hell had the restlessness inside him gone? Was it

possible that on some unconscious level, he’d spent all those years hopping from one place to the next

because he was searching for Gemma—sweet, sexy Gemma who tried so hard to be fake to protect

herself—and now that he’d found her, the edginess inside him was gone?

Well done, dumbass.

The last thing he should be doing is falling for a girl who made it perfectly clear she didn’t want a

relationship. He shook his head to get it back on straight and headed out the ambulance bay doors. Still

dressed in scrubs, he made his way to Score for two reasons. One, he was starving, and two he wanted to

check on Gemma. Worry for her mother was taking its toll on her. She was definitely right about one thing

—that neighborhood needed another shelter. If he opened his own practice, maybe he could do it close to

her mom’s neighborhood and combine it with a shelter.

What the fuck am I saying?

He hurried along the walkway and stepped into Score. He blinked against the dimness and shot a glance

around. He heard shouts from one table as they zeroed in on one of the many overhead TV sets, but

Gemma was nowhere to be found. He checked the back lot and found her car. She had to be home, or

possibly out for a run with Gracie. He hurried up the stairs to her place, and knocked. On the other side of

the door, Gracie barked. He knocked again, and concern moved into his gut. “Gemma,” he called out.

He waited for a minute, debating whether to try the door or not, when her soft voice reached his ears.

He backed up and looked at the stairs leading to the roof. “Gemma. You up there?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice a strained shout.

He dropped his backpack by her door, hurried up the second set of stairs, and came to a fast stop when

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he found her lying on her stomach, sunbathing naked. Thank you, Jesus. His cock throbbed as his gaze fell

over her, taking in the slight arch of her back, the soft swell of her perfect ass.

Oh yeah, they were going to fuck. Right here. Right now.

“You’re very naughty, you know. Sunbathing in the nude where anyone could come across you.” His gut

clenched to think that any one of the guys in the bar could come up here for a breath of fresh air. He didn’t

want anyone else looking at her, touching her—ever. Fuck.

She mumbled, and he had to strain to hear it. “I’m a real bad girl, Carson. What would your mom think

if she knew the real me.”

His heart stopped, because he knew the real her, and in that moment, only one thought remained. He

needed her. He needed her today, the same way she’d needed him all those years ago.

“Gemma,” he whispered, his heart crashing a little harder against his chest.

She rolled over and the second he saw her face, he dropped to his knees. “Shit.” He put his hand on her

forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“It’s the sun.”

“Like hell it is.” He scooped her up, and she moaned.

“My head hurts.”

“I know.”

He wrapped her in the towel beneath her, carried her down the stairs and took her to her bedroom. He

laid her out, and glanced over her body, taking in the rapid beat of her pulse, the pallid color of her skin,

and those red watery eyes that had tears welling up in them. “First things first. We need to get your fever

down.”

He hurried to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, then grabbed his backpack from outside. He rooted

around his medical bag until he found some acetaminophen. Bottle in hand, he raced back to her but heard

retching sounds coming from the bathroom. He backtracked and found her on the floor, her head hanging in

the toilet.

“Gemma,” he said, setting the glass on the counter and kneeling beside her, his hands going to her

shoulders to help her.

“Go away,” she said, then threw up again.

He gathered her hair and pulled it back, ignoring her protests. She whacked at him, tears streaming

down her face as she heaved again. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”

“I know.”

“Carson, please.” She sniffed. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“I’m not leaving, Gemma. So stop arguing with me.”

He sat with her on the bathroom floor for at least a half hour. She was so weak, she could barely lift her

head. Once her stomach settled, he grabbed the water and handed it to her. As she rinsed her mouth, he

wet a cloth and ran it over her forehead.

“We need to get the fever down. Do you think you can take some medicine?”

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“I’ll try.” He carried her to her bed and carefully set her down. She moaned and rolled, kicking the

covers to her feet. Carson hurried to the bathroom to wet the cloth again, and grabbed the water and pills.

“Can you sit up?”

He put his arm around her and slowly lifted her. She whimpered at the movement. “Here, try to take

these.” She took the meds, tossing them into her mouth and sipping the water.

“Yuck,” she said, coughing slightly as they stuck in her throat.

He held the glass up and forced her to drink more. “Got them down?”

She nodded, and he lowered her and grabbed the cloth. She quaked slightly when he dabbed her body,

working to cool her heated skin.

He sat over her for a long time, and when she began shivering harder, he covered her up and tucked her

in. She eventually settled and fell into a restless sleep. Exhaustion pulled at him—he, too, needed sleep.

He left her room, grabbed a chair from the kitchen and brought it back. Propping it in the corner, he sat

in it and closed his eyes. Sleep came quick but didn’t last long. He was up again within the hour, helping

Gemma in the bathroom. Christ, whatever had hit her, hit her good. Throughout the night, he managed to

get a few more pills and a bit of water into her, and she fell asleep just as the sun was rising. Gracie was

fussing in the other room, and while he hated to leave Gemma, she was resting soundly and Gracie needed

to get out to do her business.

He leashed her and took her to the park, gave her a quick run and then returned. Gemma was still asleep

so he plunked himself into his chair and closed his eyes. It was nearing noon when he woke, and Gemma

was just stirring.

Not wanting to wake her, he put his hand on her forehead and felt her hot skin. Shit. She still had a

fever. He had to work tonight but couldn’t leave her like this. He wouldn’t.

“Carson.” She blinked up at him, her eyes still glossy. At the sound of her voice, Gracie came into the

room, nudging her with her nose. “Hey, Gracie girl.” She made a move to get up.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

“Gracie needs to go out.”

“I already took her out.”

“Oh.” She eased back down onto her pillow, and Gracie whimpered and curled up on the floor beside

her. “Thank you. But why are you still here?”

“Because you’re sick.” He sat on the edge of the bed and fixed the sheets around her. “You still have a

fever.”

She looked around, her gaze zeroing in on the chair in the corner. “Did you sleep in the chair?”

“Yeah.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” She smoothed her matted hair from her face. “You should have gone

home.”

“No, I’m right where I needed to be.” He put his hand over hers and brushed his thumb over her wrist.

“You’re always worried about me but you need to take better care of yourself. You work too hard,

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don’t eat right, and don’t sleep right.”

“Yet you’re the one who’s sick,” he teased.

She lifted her hand like she was going to jab his chest, then dropped it again. Jesus, her energy was

low. “And if you don’t take better care of yourself, you’ll be next. But don’t worry, as soon as I get better,

I’m going to make sure you eat and sleep right.” Her eyes drifted shut and for a second, he thought she was

asleep again. “I’m going to take care of you, Carson,” she whispered. “I’m going to make sure you eat

right at work, and sleep well when you’re off. We’ve been having fun, and I haven’t given enough

consideration to what you need.”

His heart missed a beat as the flu broke down her defenses. Open, honest, kind, and lacking artifice, this

was the Gemma he knew and loved.

Loved?

He swallowed the lump in his throat and struggled to find his voice. “Speaking of work,” he said

quietly. “I have the night shift again.”

She nodded. “Go, get some sleep. Gracie and I are just fine.”

“You’re coming with me.”

“To work?”

“No, to my place. If I could stay here and take care of you, I would. But we’re short staffed, and I need

to be there for the patients.”

“You don’t have a place.”

He nodded. After he’d found Gemma, she’d become his priority over finding his own apartment.

“You’re right, and maybe it’s time I rectify that. But for now, I’ll take you to my parents’. They have air-

conditioning, and you’ll be much more comfortable until this fever breaks.”

“I don’t want them to get sick.”

“They won’t. They got a flu shot.”

She moaned, and he stood over her. She turned and pulled the blanket over her head, hiding from him.

“You know I can still see you, right?”

“You’re not going to leave, are you?”

“No.” He pulled the blanket from her head.

“Carson, I’m fine.” Her voice was as weak as her body.

“If you won’t do it for you, will you do it for me?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I’m at work worried about you, I won’t be able to do my job.”

She pursed her lips and rolled over. A long time later, she whispered, “Fine. I’ll go. Not because

you’re being a stubborn ass, but because I don’t want to keep you from your patients. And I like air-

conditioning.”

He wrapped a blanket around her and scooped her up. “Did you just call me an ass?”

“A stubborn ass,” she corrected.

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He laughed, and drew her hot body in next to his.

She blinked, her glassy eyes going to his. “Wait, what about Gracie?”

“She’s coming, too.”

Her head fell against his chest, her breath hot on his neck. “Your mother will hate that.”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Then she’ll hate me.”

“Why do you want her to hate you?”

“To make it easier when we end this fake engagement.”

Her words hit him like a sucker punch. He didn’t fucking want this to be over. Gemma was sweet,

vulnerable, kind, and cared about his well-being. Cared about him, as a man, not for what he could do for

her. Possessiveness ripped through him. She was a runner, afraid of getting hurt, but he wanted to give her

everything she desired, and more importantly, everything she needed.

So what the hell was he going to do about it?

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Chapter Twelve

The last thing Gemma expected was to spend two weeks living in Diane and Alistair’s mansion, or for

them to fall in love with her sweet baby girl, Gracie. Gemma had beaten the flu a week ago, but they

refused to let her leave, even going so far as to drive her back and forth to work after she recovered,

taking over Carson’s loving fiancé duties when he was working the night shift and unable to watch over

her. Honest to God, she’d never been so pampered, so mothered, in her entire life.

It was…it was… What was the right word? Oh yeah. Perfect. Everything she’d always wanted, but

never had, which was why it had been so easy to convince her to stay. Tears pricked her eyes and she

blinked them back. She wasn’t supposed to get close, to let anyone in. She exhaled slowly and took a sip

of her coffee as she watched the early morning sun glint on the ocean and dance off the aluminum mast on

Carson’s grandfather’s sailboat. It was a beautiful boat, and her heart warmed as she thought about the

wonderful times Carson had shared with his granddad out on the water.

“Gemma, there you are,” Diane said, coming into the living room to meet her, Gracie trotting happily at

her heels.

Gemma tore her gaze from the sailboat, and smiled when Diane handed her a piece of paper. With her

engagement-planning journal tucked under her arm, Diane grinned. “Another order has just come in.”

Gemma shook her head, flabbergasted by Diane’s generosity—and her numerous contacts. “Another

one?”

“I told you I had connections in Manhattan.” She wagged her finger. “Soon enough I’ll convince you to

open your boutique there.” She lowered herself onto the sofa next to Gemma and captured her hand. Her

smile fell, and her eyes became serious. “Plus, when grandkids come into the picture, we want to be

close.”

Guilt swamped Gemma, her stomach twisting into knots. Diane had been so kind and accepting of her

and Gracie. When she and Carson faked their breakup, it was going to be so hard on everyone…Gemma

included. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “I’m not sure—”

“Hey, you two, what’s up?” Carson asked, and Gracie made a beeline for him. He covered his crotch,

and Gemma couldn’t help but grin.

Gemma shook the paper in her hand, and pushed down all the things she was feeling for Carson…and

his family. “Well, your mom has been very busy helping me build my business. I have enough orders here

to last until Christmas. I’m not joking, Carson. I’ll need all my inventory, and will have to actually turn

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away any new business.”

Carson leaned into her, and dropped a kiss onto her mouth, as if it was the most natural thing in the

world. Her body reacted to his closeness. They’d slept in separate rooms for the last two weeks. Despite

the fact that they were “engaged,” Gemma didn’t feel right having sex under his parents’ roof. Regardless,

the ease between them, the comfort level and intimacy, had grown far more than she ever should have

allowed.

When this ends, I’m seriously going to need electric shock therapy to get over him.

She sucked in a breath and gave herself a quick lecture. It was time for her to get her head on straight. “I

have to get going. I work the lunch crowd today, so I need to get home and get ready.”

“I have an early shift, too.” Carson reached for her hand to pull her up. “I’ll drop you off.”

She turned to Diane. “Thanks so much for taking care of me these last two weeks. But I need to get to

work on these orders.” She waved the paper in her hand.

“Of course. Think about what I said about Manhattan, though.”

“I will.”

Diane tapped the book under her arm. “Oh, and we still need to make a few more arrangements for the

engagement party. When is a good time for you?”

Gemma looked to Carson, waiting for him to come to her rescue. When this arrangement had first

started, he’d told Gemma he’d find a way to put a stop to the party. Yet lately, every time his mom brought

it up, he went silent. She nudged him, but instead of saying something, his knuckles touched hers, a furtive

brush that made it hard for her to think.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Gemma finally said.

“Oh don’t be silly. Of course it’s a good idea. I just need to talk to you about a few last minute

decorations.”

Gemma exhaled slowly and nodded. “I’d better grab my stuff.” She hurried to the spare bedroom,

gathered her clothes, and met Carson by the front door.

The smile on his face when he saw her weakened her knees. He leaned in for another kiss. “All set?” he

asked.

“Yeah. Come on, Gracie.”

Once they were in his car, away from listening ears, she turned to face him. “We can’t go through with

this party, Carson.”

His hand closed over her leg. “I think it will be fine.”

What the hell?

She was about to argue when the sound of an ambulance reached her ears. Carson stiffened, going

straight into doctor mode. He hurried through the streets, dropped her and Gracie off, and, after a quick

kiss, drove to the hospital.

Two hours later, after settling Gracie in and going over her inventory, Gemma stood inside Score tying

her apron around her waist when Andy came in.

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Andy looked her over as Gemma poured them both a soda. “Hey, what’s gotten into you?” She grinned

and pointed a finger. “Never mind. I already know.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

“Seriously though, Gemma. What’s wrong? You look like you lost your best friend, but I know that

didn’t happen because I’m standing right here. Not that I’ve seen much of you lately, but we’re still

besties.”

“Let’s sit.” They grabbed their drinks and slipped into a booth. There were only a few patrons in the

bar, and they were seated in Sondra’s section, so Gemma had a few minutes to spare before the rush hit.

“None of this is right,” she finally said. “With Carson, I mean, and our fake engagement.”

“I don’t know about that. I’ve never seen your skin so clear,” Andy said, a note of amusement in her

voice. “All the sex has been good for you.”

“I know. But I can’t take the money. It’s not right.”

Andy went quiet for a long time, toying with her straw and sipping her soda. “Then don’t take it. You’ll

find other ways to expand your business.”

“It’s actually blowing up.”

“Yeah, how?”

“Carson’s mom has brought me hundreds of orders. She has tons of contacts. Some boutiques want to

carry my pieces on commission, and some of her friends want to buy pieces outright. I’ll have every cent,

and every piece I own tied up, but the payoff at the end of the summer when I deliver will be huge.”

“If everything is so great, why are you still so unhappy?”

“His mom is planning an engagement party. She wants to have it mid-August, before we stage our

breakup.”

Andy pushed back in her seat. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Carson said he’d get us out of it, but now every time she brings it up, he goes quiet.”

“Really?” She made a little throaty noise. “How interesting.”

Gemma drummed her fingers on the table. “What’s so interesting?”

“Maybe he wants it, Gemma. Maybe he wants it to be real.”

She laughed, even though there was nothing funny about this situation. Andy couldn’t be right. Could

she? Unable to help herself, she let her mind wander. Visions of herself dressed in a white gown, walking

down the aisle toward Carson, rushed through her brain. The image lingered for a moment then burst wide

open, the remnants falling over her like a millions pieces of broken glass.

What am I doing?

Carson had told her he wasn’t interested in more, and he hated people who were fake. He’d also pretty

much told her straight up he knew she was one.

Wait! Did that mean he knew she wasn’t a girl who slept around, and that she only pretended to be

wild?

Was it possible that he knew the real Gemma, the one who hid behind the mask to protect herself?

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Could he like that girl, want more from her?

Did she dare hope?

Someone slipped out from the booth behind them, and Gemma turned. Her heart went into her throat

when she saw Audra and some other woman walk to the door, the heels of their Louboutins tapping on the

wood floor.

Her stomach twisted. “Oh, my God, Andy. Do you think she overheard? I didn’t even know she was

there.”

“No, we were talking quietly, and the music would have drowned out our voices.”

“I sure hope so, otherwise this could be disastrous.”

“I think you’re fine. She would have said something.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. She’d be all over that information.” A steady stream of customers made

their way inside, and Gemma glanced at her watch and jumped up. “I’d better get to work.”

Before she knew it, she was lost in the lunch rush, and the next two hours flew by in a blur of food and

drinks. As the last of her customers left, Gemma, her elbows planted on the bar, glanced at the clock.

Carson hadn’t come in for anything to eat. It probably had something to do with the ambulance they’d

heard earlier. Gemma had no doubt he’d worked through his lunch and was starving. The man was always

putting everyone else’s needs before his own.

With that last thought in mind, she pushed away from the bar, stepped into the kitchen, and put in an

order. If he couldn’t come to her, she’d go to him. She had, after all, promised she’d take better care of

him. But before she brought him lunch, there was one very important, very secret stop she had to make

first.

Thirty minutes later, takeout bag in hand, she walked into the emergency room and stepped up to the

nurses’ station. “Is Carson here?” She held up the bag. “I have a delivery for him.” The nurse opened her

mouth to speak then shut it again and smiled.

“Hey.”

She turned at the familiar voice, and when she found Carson coming her way, looking sinfully sexy in

his scrubs, with a stethoscope around his neck, a rush of sexual energy hit like a triple shot of espresso.

She took a breath, barely able to fill her lungs. Man, the guy was addictive, and she had no idea how she

was going to quit him.

“Lunch delivery.” She showed him the bag and strove to keep herself together. How the hell she was

supposed to present a professional, calm demeanor when he was standing there looking like Dr.

McDreamy was beyond her.

He angled his head. “You brought me lunch?” His brow furrowed, surprise backlighting his baby blues.

She nodded, and he stood there looking at her for a long moment—longer than was comfortable,

especially when they were drawing attention to themselves. Feeling a little awkward, she fidgeted.

“Carson?” she whispered, wanting him to say something, to do something.

He grabbed her hand roughly, his intensity almost frightening. “Come with me.”

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“Where to?”

“Doctor’s lounge.” Looking edgy and tormented, he ushered her down the hall. They stopped outside a

locked door, and he punched in a code. He opened the door, pulled her inside, and closed it tightly behind

them.

Muscles rigid, he took the bag from her and set it on the table. When he turned back to her, the heat in

his eyes licked her from head to toe and fired her blood.

“Do you have any idea how hard the last two weeks have been?” he asked. He leaned in, his tongue

skating across her bottom lip as he pushed against her.

She felt his hardness. Rock solid and ready to go. Her sex clenched, and a little cry of need caught in

her throat. “Uh, yeah, actually I do.”

His mouth found hers. The urgency behind his kisses fueled the desire inside her. Sensations tore

through her, stirring her need for him. “Not having you alone has damn near killed me. I want you like I’ve

never wanted anyone before.”

His lips went to her neck, and as he rained hungry kisses over her throat, she moaned. “Stay at my place

tonight,” she said. “We’ll rectify that.”

“No.” His eyes flared hot. “Can’t wait that long.” He put his hands on her waist, and in one smooth

movement, he turned her until she was facing away from him. He captured her wrists and placed her

hands above her head, her palms flat against the wall.

“Carson,” she said, her voice a breathless whisper. “What are you doing?”

He put his mouth near her ear. “Whatever I want,” he said, the heat in his voice curling her toes. Hands

that were commanding yet soft went to her thigh, and slipped under her skirt. Warm fingers slid upward

and gripped her panties, and her nipples swelled. He fingered the lace and a gasp caught in her throat

when he ripped them from her hips.

Ohmigod, they were going to have up-against-the-wall sex, right here in the doctors’ lounge.

She wet her dry lips, and her breath grew shallow. “What if someone comes?” she asked.

His tortured laugh curled around her. “Oh, yeah. Someone’s definitely going to come.”

He stroked her sex, touching her with warmth and familiarity, and she moaned, all worries of getting

caught forgotten. As she abandoned any sort of rational thought, the air around them charged, need

swamping them both. He slipped a finger inside her and stroked deep. Her body trembled, and she sagged

against the wall.

“That is so good,” she murmured.

The sound of his zipper opening cut the silence, and she moved against the wall, her body ready,

eager…anxious…for him to be inside her. One strong hand wrapped around her waist and he tugged,

lifting her ass up in the air.

“Nice,” he said, pulling her skirt up to expose her backside. He kicked her legs open wider and tucked

her bottom against his groin. “You are so beautiful.” His cock slipped between her legs, brushed over her

sex. Her body needy, she wiggled, and he leaned over her, his breath hot on her skin as he thrust into her,

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driving so hard that if he wasn’t holding her, she would have crashed against the wall. As their bodies

fused as one, she closed her eyes against the flood of heat, everything inside her screaming for this, and so

much more, as he plunged in and out.

Dizzy, wild, feverish with need as he hammered her against the wall, she reared back to meet his

thrusts. “Harder,” she cried out, not even caring if anyone heard her cries.

He adjusted his footing and pounded into her faster, exploring her deeper, as if he couldn’t get enough.

He grunted, his fingers biting into her hips hard enough to leave her bruised. Lost in a haze of arousal, she

held the wall with shaky hands, her body trembling, pressure building.

Her throat clenched as she pressed against him, and when he reached around her and swiped the rough

pad of his thumb over her clit, a violent shudder overtook her. Breath rushed from her lungs, all control

lost. Carson drove impossibly deeper. She craned her neck to see him. Eyes shut, jaw set, he reached a

fevered pitch, riding her furiously, a fierce intensity overtaking him. It was unlike anything she’d ever

seen before. She gave a fragmented gasp as he crashed into her. Her body tightened, her muscles

squeezing his cock, and when he applied a bit more pressure to her sex, she broke.

“Carson,” she said with effort, as the most powerful explosion tore through her.

He growled and slammed into her once, twice, then stilled. “Fuck, yes.” His cock pulsed deep inside

her, and as he panted against her back, his pleasure resonated through her. He held her tight, but she knew

it wasn’t enough. When it came to him, it’d never be enough. She closed her eyes against everything she

felt for him.

“Gemma,” he whispered. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she managed to get out. “You?”

He inched out of her, and she collapsed against the wall. “I should probably apologize for this.”

“But you’re not going to?”

“No.”

“Good. I don’t want you to.”

“You’re kind of a bad girl.”

“Told you so.” She worked to catch her breath as he discarded the condom and zipped his pants. His

hand slipped between her legs, and he wiped her with a tissue. He tossed it into the trash, adjusted her

skirt, and turned her to face him.

Her heart jumped into her throat at the tender way he was looking at her. How could he be so rough one

minute and so gentle the next? He brushed her hair back and smoothed it from her face. “You are

incredible.”

She readjusted her skirt. “More like a hot mess.”

“No, you’ve never looked more beautiful.”

“I looked like I was just fucked in the doctor’s lounge.”

He laughed, and pressed a kiss to her mouth. “That’s because you were.”

She looked around. How many doctors and nurses came in here for the same thing? Had Carson been in

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here with another woman? Her stomach soured at that thought. “We could have been caught.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a good doctor, but a very bad boy.”

“You’re right.”

His stomach took that moment to grumble, and she laughed and poked his chest. “You need to eat.”

He inched back. “Did you make me your special turkey sandwiches?”

“Yes, and soup, which is probably cold by now.”

“But it was worth it.”

“Eat.”

He darted into the bathroom to wash up, and she opened the bag and pulled out his food. She had it all

laid out for him when he returned.

“I could get used to this,” he said coming up behind her. He pushed her hair off her neck and pressed

his lips against the sensitive spot that made her shiver.

Feeling emotional, because, yeah, she too could get used to this, she made a quick trip to the bathroom,

and when she came back to find Carson watching her, his eyes locked on her every movement, his food

untouched, she checked her watch. “I better get back to work.”

He captured her arm. “Stay for a bit.”

She nodded. “Okay.” Carson slid the chair out for her and she sat. He bit into his sandwich and she

grinned when his eyes rolled. She kind of liked that he made a big deal out of something so simple.

“How’s your day been?” he asked, as if they were an old married couple checking in with each other.

“Busy. I’m hoping to get some jewelry made after my shift. What about you?”

“Busy, too.” He frowned and took a spoonful of soup.

“What?”

“You know, I like my job. I like spending time with patients, but dammit, administration is all over us

to whip them in and out. This isn’t a factory, and I’m not a production worker. I want to spend time with

the patients. One of the reasons I became a doctor was to help people, connect with them, you know?”

She closed her hand over his, her heart squeezing. “You’re a good man, Carson.”

They sat in silence for a while, and Carson finished his sandwich. “I’ll be glad to get out of this place,

actually.”

“Is it better in other hospitals?”

He laughed. “Good point. With the current government, patients just aren’t getting the care they deserve

anymore.” He took a spoonful of soup, and the door behind her opened.

“Carson,” a curvy woman with beautiful gray eyes and wavy brown hair said. Gemma recognized her

from the bar. She came in for lunch every so often.

“Hey, Madison.” Carson wiped his mouth with the napkin she’d stuck in the bag. “Do you know

Gemma?”

“You work at Score right?”

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“That’s right.”

Grinning, Madison pointed to the takeout bag. “What do I have to do to get special deliveries?”

Carson made a face that suggested all kinds of horrid things. “You don’t want to know.”

Gemma whacked him, and when Madison laughed, Gemma decided she really liked her.

“I should probably get back,” Gemma said.

“I’ll walk out with you.” He looked as if he were going to say something else, but then tossed the

garbage into the can and washed those big, skilled hands of his again. He guided Gemma out of the room

and across the hall into the ER. One glance was all it took to see that the calm was over, and another

storm had landed with a vengeance.

One of the nurses escorted a patient out of trauma room three, which was directly across from the

doctor’s station, and handed him over to another nurse. “Cassie is going to take you to our sub waiting

area while we wait for your strep screen to come back.” She said this with a smile, her tone soft and low,

completely in contrast to the two nurses who rushed into the room they’d just vacated. Seconds later, they

pushed a stretcher out of the room and through the ambulance doors. As no ambulance or vehicle was in

sight, it appeared they were waiting for their patient to arrive.

“Shit, this doesn’t look good.” Carson stopped at the doctor’s station and grabbed at his stethoscope.

He stood there for a moment, tapping it against his chest, and then took in a breath and turned to her. “Hey,

could you just sta…” His eyes met hers, lingered, then something in his seemed to shift. “I’ll catch up with

you later, okay?”

Gemma had been prepared to leave and let him do his job, but the need in his voice, the distress in his

eyes, immobilized her. She backed up and looked around for a place to “hang out” without getting in the

way. She found a relatively safe-looking spot by the restroom door and watched a nurse grab a portable

machine with a bunch of cords hanging from it. She swung it around and headed for the room the other

nurses had just left, giving Carson a report on the situation as she went. From her vantage point, Gemma

was privy to their conversation.

“Four-year-old near drowning coming in by private vehicle. CPR in progress.”

Carson nodded. “Get an estimated time down?”

The nurse shook her head and flipped the lid on the machine. She punched the power button, waiting for

it to boot up as tires screeched on the other side of the ambulance doors.

Carson adjusted the stethoscope around his neck and slapped the silver button on the wall. The doors

slid open, and he strode to the car. Only seconds passed before he reappeared, his big, capable hands

doing compressions on the patient’s small chest as he walked alongside the stretcher. A weeping mother

and a pale, wide-eyed boy who looked to be around twelve or thirteen followed closely behind them. A

nurse took them aside and explained what was happening, speaking in soothing, reassuring tones.

As if pulled by an invisible force, Gemma moved along the wall until she could see into the room. No

one paid any attention to her as they worked over the small boy, starting IVs, hanging fluids, and attaching

wires to stickers they placed on his still body.

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Carson called out orders in calm, even tones, his eyes never leaving the child as the medications he

ordered rushed through the little veins. She heard the word, intubate and her heart contracted for the

family standing by. Several times she heard the nurse say “Stand clear! Delivering shock! Shock

delivered,” and then Carson’s resolute order to resume CPR.

Carson had big hands, strong ones, but he moved with deftness, and a careful precision that held her

attention. There wasn’t a single wasted movement as he delicately worked on the child. Gemma stood

there stunned, admiring him as he moved like a fine-tuned instrument, and to her it seemed like she was

watching a maestro conducting an orchestra rather than a doctor saving a patient’s life.

Her heart twisted. How could she ever have thought he took this job because he had a God complex?

This was hard, strenuous work with long hours and little sleep, and there was nothing glamorous about it.

He was as far removed from a rich, pampered, Southampton hottie as one could get. As she watched, she

hugged herself and shook her head, her heart crashing in her chest with all the things she felt for him.

If she didn’t love him before, she sure as hell did now.

She’d never moved past a physical relationship before. Never wanted to. Until now.

Precious seconds passed and only once did the nurse look up at Carson from her post at the head of the

stretcher with a question in her eyes. He gave one unyielding shake of his head and pressed on. Until…

“We have a pulse.”

Every head in the room swung around to look at the monitor. Gemma couldn’t see it from where she

stood, but she felt the elation emanating from the room, heard the beep of the monitor verifying the rhythm

of the tiny heart coaxed back from stillness, and a mother’s cries of joy.

The emergency crew shifted, regrouped to maintain that precious life. They moved about the room,

adjusting equipment, hanging medications, and then she saw him. Carson stood beside the stretcher, head

bowed over the small chest and the hand resting over it. And then he straightened, rolled his shoulders

and went to the family.

The mother wept her thanks, encompassing him in a grateful embrace. He turned to the young boy who

stood silent beside her, his eyes full of agony as he looked at his little brother. Only when Carson placed

his hand on the boy’s shoulder did he look away. His Adam’s apple made a trip along his neck as he

stared up at him.

“I…” He swallowed and tried again. “The waves were big today, and I told him to go back to Mom,

but he…” He dashed his hand across his cheek and caught a tear. “I did CPR just like they taught us at

camp, but I couldn’t…he wouldn’t…”

Carson bent down, bringing his face level with the boy’s. His hand tightened on the thin shoulder just

enough to get his attention. “You did everything you were supposed to, and you did it correctly.” The boy

sniffed and shook his head. Carson’s voice gentled. “He didn’t respond to us at first, either. Sometimes, it

just takes a little longer. What you did for him on the way here kept his heart pumping blood and made it

possible for us to do what we did.”

“Are…are you sure?” Hope shone through the tears in his eyes.

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“I’m sure.” Carson gave him a final squeeze then went back into the treatment room, assessing the child

again. Shoulders still tight, he turned and when his eyes connected with hers, his face softened.

“Gemma, I didn’t realize you were still here.”

“I just…”

“You shouldn’t be back here. You’d better get going.” Despite his words, he pulled her to him and just

held her, those capable hands of his linked behind her back. His strong heart pounded hard against her

face, and she felt tears threaten, her adrenaline still pumping.

She inched back. “Okay, um…are you coming by tonight?” They seriously needed to talk.

“No, I can’t.” He shook his head and avoided her gaze. “I actually have to go to the city. Some business

to take care of.”

What the hell? Why all of a sudden couldn’t he look at her? Before the emergency, he seemed like he

wanted to say something to her. Now it felt like he was pushing her away. What was going on?

“What kind of business?” she asked, even though he didn’t owe her any kind of explanation.

He hesitated for a moment. “Charity work, and some…other things.”

“Oh, okay.” That made sense. For the last month, they’d spent every possible moment together. No

doubt he had to check in with his charity, oversee some business. But what were the “other things” he was

talking about?

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Chapter Thirteen

The whole month of July and the first half of August had flown by in a whir, no doubt because Gemma

was so was busy working at Score, and when she had time off, she was busy making jewelry to fulfill all

the orders which Diane planned to deliver at the end of summer, when she returned to Manhattan. She and

Carson were still carrying on as if they were engaged, and so many times she wanted to talk to him, but

could never find the right opportunity. Not only was he burned out at work, exhausted and disgruntled at

the end of the day, he was spending less and less time in the Hamptons, and more and more time in the

city. In fact, he’d been acting a little secretive, aloof even.

Then there was his family. Carson’s sister had stopped in for lunch a few times, and even though

Gemma had tried not to, she couldn’t help but like her. The two had become fast friends over the summer.

His mom, though, and the engagement journal she carried everywhere with her, were a constant reminder

that this arrangement was a farce.

Honest to God, Diane was so excited about the engagement, and so accepting of Gemma, she had no

idea how they were going to fake a breakup in two weeks without hurting her. Her heart squeezed. When

she got into this, she hadn’t thought about the consequences, or about how many people they’d wound.

She’d assumed his parents would hate her, and they’d be relieved when Carson dumped the girl from the

wrong side of the tracks.

Unfortunately, they liked her, and she liked them. Yeah, they were pushy and fake, and Carson and his

dad had a strained relationship, but they genuinely cared about him.

But now here it was, the day before her engagement party. Problem was, the closer she got to his

mother and sister, the further Carson seemed to pull away.

From the working side of the bar she poured herself a soda and sat on the stool. She leafed through the

newspaper, and glanced up when Andy entered.

“So,” Andy said. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”

“You’re coming right?” Gemma said.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You know, you don’t have to be so happy about it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? My best friend is celebrating her engagement.”

Gemma rolled her eyes. “You know it’s fake right.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want it to be.”

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Gemma’s head came back with a start. “Andy—”

“It’s me you’re talking to, Gemma. I know you, and you’re in love with him.”

“I’m…” Dammit. “God, Andy this wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to fall for him. But I

did, and now I’m a mess.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just…” She exhaled and took a sip of her soda. “Everything was going so well, but the

last few weeks, he’s been acting different. Making trips to the city and being secretive.”

“I know work is getting to him. Everyone is under a tremendous amount of stress with management

breathing down our necks. That’s probably all it is.”

She wasn’t so sure, but asked anyway, “You think?”

“Yeah, and I also think you need to talk to him, tell him how you feel.”

She planted her elbows on the bar and pressed her palms to her eyes. “What if he doesn’t feel the same

way?”

“What if he does?”

She shook her head and dropped her hands. “He told me he wasn’t interested in a relationship.”

“Yeah, I heard the same words from you numerous times, and now look at you.” Andy grabbed her hand

and gave a comforting squeeze. “Things change, Gemma. People change. They grow up. Learn to trust.”

She smiled. “The right guy can do that.”

It was true. She never let herself get too close to anyone, because in the end, everyone left. But Carson

was different. How could she not fall in love with a man who protected her, put her needs, feelings, and

well-being first? Honestly, she hadn’t anticipated that she’d fall so hard for him. No, that was a lie. She

had anticipated it. Carson was the only man she’d ever let in, the one man she knew she could fall for,

which was why she’d been so reluctant to play house—or doctor—with him.

“You think he’s the right guy?”

“I was worried at first. He has a reputation. But you know what? I’ve not seen him so much as flirt with

anyone since he’s been here, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Maybe he’s just a really good actor.”

“Maybe he’s in love.”

Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. Was it possible that he’d fallen for her, the way she’d fallen

for him, and his recent behavior had to do with work, and not preparing them and others for their staged

breakup? She wasn’t so sure, but she knew if she didn’t do something about her feelings, she would spend

the rest of her life wondering “what if.”

She wrapped her hands around her waist. When the heck had lust turned to love? More importantly,

what was she going to do about it?

“You need to talk to him.” Andy said again.

“I know.”

“Okay, I have to go. I’ll see you at the party tomorrow.”

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Andy left, and Gemma grabbed her purse. She pulled out her phone and, summoning every ounce of

courage she owned, drafted a text to Carson, insisting they talk tonight before his late shift. Her finger

poised over the send button when the sound of heels clicking on the floor gained her attention. She

glanced up to see Audra coming her way. Gemma straightened, not liking the smirk on the woman’s face.

“Gemma,” Audra said, tapping perfectly manicured nails on the countertop as she made herself comfy

on a bar stool.

“What can I do for you, Audra?”

An odd noise came from Audra’s throat, a maniacal little chuckle. “For starters, you can leave Carson

alone.”

“Audra—”

“Do you care about him?” Audra asked.

“Yes.”

“And his family?”

Gemma eyed her, unease tightening in her stomach. “What are you getting at?”

“If you care about them, then you’re going to do exactly what I tell you to.”

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Chapter Fourteen

Carson checked his phone as he pulled into his spot at the hospital. He was running a bit late, and wanted

to stop in and see Gemma before his shift, but he also didn’t want to disturb her because she was busy

trying to fill her orders. Except he was desperate to see her, needing one of her warm kisses to get him

through the night shift.

Gemma, sweet and sexy Gemma, who I’m madly in love with.

He thought he could fuck her a few times over the course of the summer and finally get her out of his

system. But all it did was draw him in deeper, taking him to a place where emotions ruled. He hadn’t

spent as much time with her as he would’ve liked during the last few weeks, and he knew he was being

secretive, but he had big plans for their engagement party tomorrow and wanted to make sure his present

to her was a surprise.

His heart beat a little quicker, and while he guessed her feelings for him ran as deep as his for her, he

had to go on faith that what he was going to propose wasn’t going to scare her off. Hopefully over the last

couple of months, she’d learned she could trust him, understand that he’d never hurt or leave her behind.

She was a runner, and for the last few weeks he’d been putting together a treatment plan to keep her

grounded.

He climbed from his car, and saw movement outside Score. He glanced across the walkway that

separated the hospital from the sports bar, and frowned when he saw Gemma and Jake standing beneath

the streetlight near the stairs that led to her loft. What the fuck? Jake was handing her something, but from

this distance, he couldn’t quite tell what it was. She wasn’t taking any more jewelry orders. Besides, who

the fuck would Jake be buying jewelry for anyway? He hiked his backpack up higher on his back, about to

stomp over there and find out what was going on, but the sound of an ambulance arriving stopped him.

Shit. Whatever was going on, he’d have to get to the bottom of it tomorrow.

He stepped into the hospital, and the rest of the night sped by, as emergency after emergency came

through the doors. Before he knew it, morning was upon them. A yawn pulled at him, and he stretched,

needing a few good hours of sleep before the engagement party. He hopped into his car, hurried home, and

crashed.

Hours later, the sound of guests arriving pulled him awake. He showered, dressed, grabbed the box off

his dresser and tucked it into his pocket. Nervous excitement gripped him as he stepped out into the back

gardens where the party was being held, greeting old family friends and a few colleagues. He walked

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through the crowd and found his mother.

“Have you seen Gemma?”

She flashed a smile. “She probably just wants to make a grand entrance.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, but something was wrong. He felt it in his gut. He looked for her friend Andy,

who was nowhere to be found, either. He slipped into the house and grabbed his phone. He called her

number, but when she didn’t answer, he sent her a text.

“Where is this lovely woman we’re all hearing about,” Mrs. Banyan, Jake’s mother, asked when he

stepped back outside.

“She should be here soon,” he assured her, anxiety forming a ball in the pit of his stomach.

“Is this not beautiful?” she said, stroking the gem hanging from a gold chain around her neck. “She’s a

very talented woman.”

“Yes, she is.” He looked through the crowd again, and spotted a group of women following the rose-

lined path to the back gardens. “If you’ll excuse me. I think she might be here.”

Heels clicked, and he greeted the group of women, one being none other than Audra. Fake smiles were

exchanged, as well as congratulations. Audra touched his arm.

“Carson,” she said. “Where is that lovely fiancée of yours?”

He clenched his teeth. “She’ll be here.”

“Fashionably late is one thing, but I’m wondering if she’s even coming at all.”

The muscles along his jaw ticked as he glared at her. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, Carson, you can stop pretending. I know you bought her for the summer, giving her money to

pretend to be your fiancée.” She fluttered her lashes, blinking innocently. “Can you imagine if your

parents ever found out, or their friends?” She waved her hand toward the crowd. “News of you paying for

sex would drag your family’s name through the mud—again.”

A wave of anger crashed over him. “I did not pay her for sex.”

“Well, maybe not, but I’m sure that’s how the paparazzi would spin it. But don’t worry; I’ll keep your

secret, Carson. You can trust me.”

“I have to go find her.”

She touched his arm to stop him. “She’s obviously done with this charade, so why would you go after

her?”

“Because…” Because he loved her, goddammit, and she wouldn’t run out on him—not again. Right?

Fuck! Could he have been so wrong about her? Was this situation simply about the deal they agreed

upon—a business arrangement? Had this whole engagement party simply been too much, and she was

faking the breakup now? He pushed one hand into his pocket and fisted the velvet box.

“Look, Carson, she’s nothing but a slut from the wrong side of the tracks.”

His nostrils flared. “Don’t you ever fucking say anything like that about her again.”

“Come on, everyone knows it. Ask around.”

“You don’t know her.”

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She angled her head. “You didn’t really think this thing between you two was real, did you? She was

only after what you had in your wallet, and believe me, you’re better off without her in your life.” Audra

put her hands on his chest.

“Don’t touch me.” He grabbed her hands and put them at her sides. “You have no idea what you’re

talking about.”

“I think I do, considering she’s not here.” Her hands went to her hips, and her chin lifted slightly. “Like

I said, she took your money and ran.”

That couldn’t be right. Gemma wasn’t like that. She cared about him. Didn’t she?

“Don’t for one minute think you’re the only guy she’s taken money from for…favors.”

“What are you talking about?” His voice was getting louder, deeper, drawing unwanted attention. He

grit his teeth, and tried to push down the image of her and Jake doing some secret exchange near her stairs

last night. What the hell was he giving her? Money?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He grabbed his cell phone and tried her again, but this time it went straight to voicemail. Had she

blocked his number? Was this really fucking happening?

“I have to go.”

He caught his mother’s eyes, and his heart seized. Jesus Christ, he was such a fuckup. One more thing to

disappoint his family. He turned and made his way to his car, then headed toward Gemma’s loft.

He stepped into Score, and glanced around, looking for her. When his search came up empty, he rushed

up the outside steps and pounded on her door. No answer. He tried the knob, but it was locked. Shading

the sun, he looked inside. Gracie and her pillow were nowhere to be found, and the table was clear of all

jewels. His stomach pained. The place had been abandoned.

He hurried to the hospital, but Andy wasn’t on shift. He found out where she lived and drove straight to

her house. Her mother answered, but she had no idea where Andy was, either. He tried to call Gemma for

the hundredth time, but once again, she didn’t answer.

“Fuck.”

He headed back toward the hospital and spotted Jake walking the path to Score. Hitting the brakes,

Carson jumped from his car.

“Jake,” he called out

Jake stopped. “What’s up?”

“Last night I saw you and Gemma outside Score. What did you give her?”

Jake raked his hands through his hair, his gaze shifting around. “Money.”

“What for?”

“Carson, I don’t know what this is all about, but she was just doing me a favor.”

“A favor?” Blind rage filled Carson, and he drew back and punched Jake in the face. Jake went down.

“What the fuck, Carson?” he said, rubbing his jaw as he got up.

Carson took a deep breath to pull himself together. He needed time alone, time to think. He hopped into

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his car and drove home. Instead of going to the gardens where guests were waiting, he grabbed a bottle of

scotch and made his way to his grandfather’s boat.

He climbed on board and plunked himself down on the stern perch. With his phone in hand, he stared

out at the water and tried to wrap his brain around this turn of events. Needing to check out, he cracked

the seal on the bottle, took a long swig, and winced as it burned down his throat. One drink was followed

by two, but not even the alcohol could numb the pain inside him. He glanced around, wanting to pound

something, break the shit out of anything. But this was his granddad’s boat, and he’d never do anything to

damage it.

Pink and purple bruised the night sky as the sun set, and he drank until he passed out on the deck. Many,

many hours later, the sound of a speedboat going by pulled him awake, and he groaned at the pounding in

the base of his skull. Fucking hangover. At least the pain filled the void inside him.

He sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose, his mouth parched. He looked at the half empty bottle, but

wasn’t going to touch another drop. Gemma’s mother always checked out with alcohol, and he would

never do to that to her. A noise caught in his throat. A half laugh, half groan. Here he was worried about

checking out on Gemma, when she was the one who’d done it to him.

Gemma.

Jesus Christ, what the fuck was he going to do now? He loved her, had a hole in his heart the size of the

ship’s wheel. He pushed against the side of the boat and drew his knees up.

“I thought I might find you here.”

He turned, the world spinning as he zeroed in on his dad. “I’m not really in the mood to talk.”

“Are you in the mood to listen?”

“No.”

His father chuckled. “How about you do it anyway.”

He looked into his father’s face, took in the lines around his eyes. His stomach soured. Fuck. The man

was astute, and he should have known he could never hide anything from him. “You know, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I overheard you talking to Audra. Plus I had my suspicions that something was going on all

along.”

“If you’re here to lecture me, I’m not interested. I know I’ve disappointed you again. I don’t need to

hear it.”

His father hunkered down beside him. They sat in silence for a long time, then his father spoke. “I take

the blame in this, son. Your mother and I shouldn’t have been pushing you. You’re your own man, and you

make your own decisions. I should have respected that, and I didn’t.” He exhaled slowly. “And as far as

being disappointed? I’m disappointed in myself, not you.”

Carson shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You saved your sister.”

“But I nearly beat a guy to death.”

“Don’t you see, Carson? It was my job to take care of the family, not yours. I’ll never forgive myself for

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that. I should have been the one to give that guy a beating, not you. I should have been the one to deal with

the fallout. You always wanted to be a lawyer, and because I didn’t stand up, you suffered the

consequences.”

“No, Dad, you always wanted me to be a lawyer. I really like being a doctor.”

His dad shifted and put his hand on Carson’s shoulder. Carson swallowed against the lump forming in

his throat.

“I’m proud of you, Carson. Proud of everything you’ve accomplished in your professional life. I’m

proud of the choices you make in your personal life, too. Gemma and you…I couldn’t be happier.”

“She’s gone, Dad. None of this was real.”

He went quiet for a moment. “You don’t think so?”

“It was a business arrangement, and now she’s gone.” Wait, shit, he hadn’t even paid her. His mind

rewound to yesterday. Audra said Gemma took his money and ran, but he’d been so enraged, he hadn’t

stopped to remember that no money had ever been exchanged. If this was just a business arrangement to

her, why would she leave without getting paid? None of this made sense. And his goddamn hangover

wasn’t helping him think clearly, either.

“Pretend or not, you can’t tell me you don’t love her.”

Carson raked his hands through his hair and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I do

love her, but she left.”

“Why do you think she did that?”

“I don’t know. Because she doesn’t feel the same about me? She’s a runner, and she ran. It’s what she

does to protect herself.”

“What’s she protecting herself from?”

“Getting hurt.”

His father went silent and just stared at him, as if he was waiting for the pieces to snap together. If his

head hadn’t been pounding so hard…

“Something came for you while you were out,” his dad said. “It’s up at the house. I think you should see

it.”

“I don’t want to go up there and have to field questions from Mom.”

“We’ll sneak in through the back.”

He angled his head and looked at his father. They hadn’t talked like this in a long time, and it felt good.

Healing. “Okay.”

They climbed from the boat and walked back to the house. His father opened the back gate and guided

him inside to the front room off the pool. Carson looked at the big bay window, and when he saw a

beautiful, hand carved replica of his grandfather’s sailboat on the sill, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“What? How?”

“You tell me. It came yesterday. The craftsman said Gemma hired him to make it for you.”

His heart hurt as he touched the wood, trailing his finger over the intricate piece. It had to have cost her

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a small fortune. “I can’t believe she did this.”

“She must care a great deal about you.”

He swallowed as the tumblers began to click. “She ran because she’s afraid,” he said quietly. “Not

because she doesn’t feel the same, but because she does. She’s afraid of getting hurt.” He glanced up

slowly. “I’d never hurt her.”

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you, and I think she knows that.”

He raked his fingers through his hair and turned back to the window to look out over the water. “Then I

don’t get it. Why did she just leave without a word?”

“Maybe you need to ask her that.”

“What’s going on in here?” his mother asked as she stepped into the room. “Where is Gemma? Why

didn’t she come to the engagement party yesterday?”

He looked at his mom, and when he saw her necklace, something niggled at the back of his brain. Shit.

Mrs. Banyan had on one of Gemma designs. I am such a fucking idiot. How could he have thought she

was taking money from Jake for favors? Of course there was another reason, and he’d been too furious,

too much of a fucking hothead to even listen to the man’s explanation. He’d heard favor and lost his shit.

Audra had planted the worst in his head, and he’d allowed her to do it. Gemma didn’t deserve that from

him. She was kind and sweet and the most giving woman he knew. But Audra, with everything she knew

about their private arrangement, must have said something to Gemma that made her just up and leave. And

he had a pretty good idea of what that was.

“She was fed something that didn’t agree with her, but don’t worry, I’m going to doctor her up and

make her all better.”

His father smiled, while his mother looked at him, her brows narrowed in confusion. She opened her

mouth, but his dad said, “Come on Diane. Let’s go celebrate your son’s engagement.”

Carson jumped into his car, and headed for the city.

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Chapter Fifteen

Gemma was in her apartment in Brooklyn with Andy, packing up her belongings. Gracie had flopped out

on the floor, snoring loudly beside them.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Andy asked.

Gemma sniffed, and wiped her nose as sadness choked her. How would she ever survive this

heartache? “I’m not going to let Audra drag his family’s name through the mud. They’ve all been nothing

but kind and accepting of me, and something like this would destroy them.”

“But what about all the jewelry orders? You’re just going to forget about them?”

“I’m sure Diane is cancelling the orders as we speak. I ran out on Carson. She’s not going to do me any

favors after that.”

“What I don’t get is, if Audra overheard us that day, why did she wait so long to confront you.”

“It was all about the timing. Diane went through all the trouble to put together an engagement party.”

She snapped her fingers. “The embarrassment of me running out on her son the day of said party was a

guarantee that they’d hate me. No one pulls a stunt like that with the Reynolds family. Audra knew exactly

what she was doing, and probably hoped Carson would turn to her.”

“Wow, she is one seriously manipulative bitch.” Andy stretched out on the bed as Gemma threw more

of her belongings into a box. “And you’re not going to talk to Carson.”

“No. He probably thinks it’s for the best, anyway.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I told you, he was distancing himself. I shouldn’t have gotten it into my head that there was more going

on than what we agreed at the start. Like you once told me, don’t confuse what’s real and what isn’t.”

And I told you it probably had to do with work.”

Andy could be right, but maybe it was easier on her to think she wasn’t hurting him by running again.

She swallowed against the tightness in her throat, the pain in her heart, not wanting to continue with this

conversation. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Like how you’re broke and have no place to live?”

“No, not that,” she said, even though it was true. The girl she’d subleased her apartment to was leaving

at the end of the month, and with the rent rising, and all her money tied up in the jewelry that she could no

longer sell, she needed to move. “I’ll stay with my mother for a bit.”

“Come stay with me.”

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“You know I can’t go back to the Hamptons. Not now.”

“Gemma…”

“Andy, I’m fine.” Except for a shattered heart, she’d be okay. It wasn’t the first time she’d gotten by

with nothing. She’d do it again gladly it if meant protecting Carson.

Gracie started barking, and Gemma jumped. “What the heck?” The dog ran from her bedroom, sliding a

bit on the wood floor as she made a beeline to the front door.

“Someone is here.”

The doorbell sounded and Andy followed Gemma into the hall. She swung open her apartment door,

and nearly fell to the floor when she saw one very intense, very angry-looking Carson standing there,

overwhelming the entire space—and her. Gracie wagged her tail madly, overjoyed to see him. It broke

her heart that much more to know Gracie was as attached to him as Gemma was.

“Carson,” she said breathlessly, light-headedness overcoming her. “What are you doing here? How did

you find me?”

“I’m not nineteen anymore. I have resources.”

Oh God, it hurt just to look at him. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“This is exactly where I should be.”

“What…what do you want?”

“Um, I’m going to take Gracie for a walk,” Andy said. She grabbed the dog’s leash and slipped past

Gemma. Carson turned to let them pass.

“I want you, Gemma. Ten years ago you ran, and I didn’t know how to find you. Now I do, and I’m not

letting you run again.”

She shifted from one shaky foot to the other. Was this really happening? He’d come for her, was

fighting for her, and yet she had to push him away to protect him. “It’s over, Carson,” she said, failing

miserably at keeping her voice steady. “I faked the breakup, like you asked me to do when this all started.

I just did it sooner than you expected.”

“I want to get back together again. I want to be with you, and I’m not letting anyone or anything stand in

our way.” Her stomach roiled as he looked past her at the boxes on her floor. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to stay with my mother for a bit,” she said, her throat so raw it hurt to speak.

“Why?”

“The, uh…rent…never mind. It’s doesn’t matter.”

He stepped closer, crowding her. “It matters to me. Everything about you matters to me. Everything,

Gemma.”

Her heart squeezed. God, she loved him so much. She stared at him, taking in the caring way he was

looking at her, as if he could see past the mask, through the tough-girl armor, and straight into the depths of

her soul—see just how lost and lonely she was without him, how much she needed him. Over the summer,

she’d gotten to know the real Carson, the kind, caring gentle man he truly was. As much as she didn’t want

it to, it mattered to her what he thought of her—that he knew the real her. She wanted to pull him into her

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arms and tell him they could be together, but what would happen if she did? What would Audra do?

Destroy the family name, that’s what. She couldn’t do that. She had to turn him away.

“Carson…”

“I punched Jake in the face.”

Her eyes went wide. “What did you do that for?”

“I saw him give you money, and I thought…”

She shook her head and fought back tears as her heart sank into her stomach. “I know what you thought,”

she whispered past the knot in her throat. That she slept around. She could explain what the money was

for, but why bother. Even if they could be together, after all this time it was clear he had no idea who she

was inside. She backed up, needing to put a measure of distance between them, but he followed her in.

“You didn’t need to run.”

She wrung her hands and continued to back up until she hit the wall. “Yes, I did.”

“I know why you did it.” He put his hands on either side of her head, caging her with his chest.

She sucked in a breath. “Because it’s over between us.”

“No, it’s not over, Gemma. It hasn’t even begun.”

“What do you mean?”

“You always run to protect yourself, but this time you did it to protect me, didn’t you?”

Worry invaded her gut. How could he know about Audra? “How did you—?”

“I pieced it together. Do you have any idea how your running makes me feel?”

“Angry.”

“No, baby.” He laughed and shook his head. “I’m anything but angry. And don’t worry about Audra.

She can’t do anything to hurt us.”

“Carson, she can, and I can’t allow her to hurt you.” Needing him to understand, she shook her head

hard and continued to explain. “I won’t do anything to hurt you, or your family. You’re all too important to

me.”

“Just like you’re important to us.”

“Carson, listen—”

“No, you listen. Mom and Dad know everything, and they know I’m here fighting for you. They need

you in their lives as much as you need them. Dad is the best lawyer in Manhattan, and believe me, Audra

is no match for him. I never paid you, and if she says I did, he’ll slap a slander suit against her so fast,

it’ll knock her right off those flashy heels she wears.”

She sniffed. “I like her heels.”

Carson laughed, and it filled her with joy. Hope soared like a leaf in an updraft.

“Fine, we’ll get you some.”

She put her hand on her hip. “I can buy my own shoes. Not Jimmy Choos, but…”

“You’re mine, Gemma, and anything you need, I plan to give you.”

“All I need is you,” she whispered, anxiety still gnawing at her gut. “Are you sure she can’t hurt you?

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I’d never forgive…”

He cupped her face, and her voice fell off.

“I’m positive. And just so you know, I’m not angry that you ran. Not this time.”

“No?”

“No. In fact, what you did makes me love you even more.”

“Love?” She swallowed. “You love me? Even more?”

“Baby, I think I’ve been in love with you for the last ten years.”

He brushed the rough pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “But you don’t even know me,” she said. He

just admitted to punching Jake because he thought she was sleeping with him. If he knew her, he’d know

she’d never do that.

“No? So you’re not a girl who loves me, a girl who sees me for who I am, and wants nothing from me

in return? A girl who didn’t even take the money for a business arrangement we had, and used jewelry

money given to her by Jake to pay for a beautiful hand-carved boat she had commissioned for me instead

of paying her rent, and now has to move in with her mother?”

Her heart squeezed. He does know me. “I didn’t want your money. I told you I would have helped you

for free, and I wanted you to have the boat. I knew how important it was to you.”

“You see, Gemma. I know exactly who you are behind this mask you wear, and I love that girl.”

“You…you really love me?”

“How could you not know that?”

Her breath came quicker. “I just…you’ve been distancing yourself. Andy said it was because of work,

but I…”

“Trust me?”

She nodded, emphatically. She’d never trusted anyone more.

“Good, then come with me.” He captured her hand and led her outside to his car. “Get in.”

She slid in, and he drove a few blocks to her favorite neighborhood in Brooklyn. He parked in front of

a two-story house, opened her door and guided her up the steps. When he fished a key out of his pocket,

she went still.

“Carson?”

He opened the door, scooped her up, and carried her inside. “This is why I’ve been secretive lately,

and heading to the city more than usual.”

“You bought a house.”

“Yes, for us. You’re a runner, baby.” He set her down. “And I needed a plan to keep you grounded.

Here I can open my own private practice, get help for your mother, and you can finally have that boutique

you’ve always wanted.”

Tears fell hard, and he gently brushed them away with his thumb. Completely overwhelmed, she just

stood there, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. Carson loved her, had found a house for them,

and wanted to help her mother. He was the sweetest, kindest man she knew, one who would never turn his

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back on her. He was someone she could always rely on. Her heart filled with all the love she felt for him.

She tried to talk, to say something, but couldn’t seem to get any words out.

“What, isn’t this the neighborhood you love?”

She put her hand on his chest and felt his heart racing. “You didn’t need to do this for me.”

“I didn’t need to. I wanted to.” He went quiet, then asked, “Don’t you like it?”

She did, but it was too much. How could she accept? “Yes, but…”

“Say that again.”

She blinked, and took in the ghost of a smile playing on his mouth. What was he up to now? “Yes,

but…”

He pulled a velvet box from his pocket and went down on one knee. “Just the first part, Gemma,” he

said grinning. “I want the engagement to be real. I have for a very long time.”

“Me, too,” she said.

“Then say it.”

She took in the beautiful diamond, her heart pounding so hard she’d soon need CPR. She blinked her

watery eyes and said, “Yes.”

Carson took the ring and put it on her finger. “Now, say my name.”

“Carson,” she whispered as he slid his hand around the back of her neck and drew her mouth to his.

“Yeah, just like that, baby. Every night, just like that.”

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Epilogue

Gemma gave her mother—the newest employee of Gems by Gemma—a huge hug, and then set the lock

behind her after she left the shop. She stared after her as she walked down the sidewalk, and when her

mom turned back, a huge smile on her wholesome face, Gemma gave her a finger wave. She was so happy

to see her mom content and healthy, standing on her own two feet thanks to counseling and her new

purpose here in the shop.

Still in awe of everything that had happened over the last year, Gemma spun around and took in her

very own jewelry store. She hugged herself, a new lightness in her heart as she walked to the cash register

to close out for the night. Gracie slept on her bed behind the counter, and she stepped over her. Her cell

phone chirped, Carson’s own special ring, and she grabbed it from beneath the counter.

Her big diamond engagement ring and wedding band glistened in the overhead lights as she read his

text.

We have a problem.

Her heart missed a beat. What could possibly be wrong? For the last year, their lives had been perfect.

They got married at the Hamptons cottage, moved into their dream home, and converted the main level

into three compartments, one for her business, one for his private practice and one for the shelter. Even

his mother had accepted that they were going to live in Brooklyn.

Her fingers flew over the screen.

What’s wrong?

My last patient just left, and I need you in here right away.

“Be right back, Gracie,” she said to her sleeping girl.

The little bell over her door jingled as she rushed outside, locked up behind herself and ran around the

side of the building to the private practice’s entrance. She let herself in and glanced around the empty

waiting room.

“Carson,” she called out.

“In here.”

Her Jimmy Choos clicked on his tile floor as she followed his voice and found him inside one of the

examination rooms. Her heart fell when she noted the intense way he was staring at a file—with her name

on it.

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“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He tapped the chair beside him, and she sank into it. Oh God, she did not want to know what was so

wrong that he had to call her into his office. For the last few months they’d been trying to have a baby, and

her gut told her this meeting had everything to do with that. What if she couldn’t get pregnant?

Tears threatened. “I’m not going to have a baby, am I?”

He shook his head, and she sucked in a gasp as he handed her a paper. “No, you’re not having one.

You’re having two.”

She jumped to her feet. “Oh my God, Carson. Are you serious? You scared me.”

He followed her up, hugged her tight, and pressed kisses all over her forehead. “I didn’t mean to.”

Tears fell down her cheeks, her emotions on a roller coaster. Damn hormones. “Wait, I don’t

understand. Do you not want twins? You said we had a problem. Is this it?”

He brushed his hand over her face. “Oh, baby, I do want twins. And that’s not the problem at all.”

She sniffed. “Then what is?”

“It occurred to me that we’ve had sex in every room of this place, your boutique included, but we’ve

not christened my office yet.”

She laughed. “You want to have sex in here?”

He grinned and worked the buttons on her blouse. “We should celebrate.”

“Right now?”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you serious?” she asked, as desire moved through her.

“As a heart attack.” He picked her up and set her on the examination table. He pressed his forehead to

hers and positioned himself between her legs. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Twins,

Gemma,” he whispered, his voice so full of love and happiness it squeezed her heart. “I am the luckiest

man alive.”

She laughed and kissed him as he slid her blouse from her shoulder. “I hope they have your eyes.”

“If we have girls, they’d better look like me and not you.”

She tugged on his tie. “You want them to look like you?”

“Yeah, because if they look like you, every guy in the neighborhood will be after them.”

“Poor daddy.”

He went still, and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he said in the lowest voice, “I’m going to be a

daddy.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be a great daddy.”

“You’ll be the best mommy.”

She looked at the man she loved. He’d given her everything she’d ever needed but never thought she’d

ever have. She cupped his face. “I love you.”

He kissed her mouth. “And I love you.” A little nudge had her falling back onto the bed. He pressed his

mouth to her stomach and kissed twice. “And I love you and you. When you guys, or girls, are old enough,

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I’m going to teach you how to sail, and we’ll go fishing. And we’ll play ball, and mommy will teach you

how to make jewelry and cook, because she’s a better cook than me, and—”

“Carson.”

He lifted his head and the huge smile on his face melted her heart. “Yeah?”

“Get naked already.”

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Acknowledgments

A big thanks to Jan Meredith, Lauren Hawkeye and Mari Carr. Writing this series with you gals has been

so much fun. An extra big thank you to Nurse Jan who helped me get the details right in the medical

scenes. Any mistakes are mine not hers.

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About the Author

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author

Cathryn Fox

is a wife, mom, sister, daughter, and

friend. She loves dogs, sunny weather, anything chocolate (she never says no to a brownie), pizza, and red

wine. Cathryn has two teenagers who keep her busy and a husband who is convinced he can turn her into a

mixed-martial-arts fan. When not writing, Cathryn can be found laughing over lunch with friends, hanging

out with her kids, or watching a big action flick with her husband.

Sign up for our

Romance Steals newsletter

and be the first to hear about new releases from Cathryn

Fox and other fantastic Entangled authors!

Reviews help other readers find books. We appreciate all reviews, whether positive or negative. Thank

you for reading!

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Also by Cathryn Fox…

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URVES

When he wins a sexy bet, billionaire Linc Blair can’t wait to get Lauren Neill naked. He’s never gone for her type in the past, and he’s pretty

certain it has more to do with her buttoned-up hotness than the nagging sense that something is missing from his life. But when he gets a

glimpse of the vulnerable woman beneath the conservative, yet oh-so-sexy clothes, it’s a game changer.

S

LOW

R

IDE

W

ILD

R

IDE

S

WEET

R

IDE

H

OLD

M

E

D

OWN

H

ARD

T

IE

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E

D

OWN

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IGHT

B

ETTING

ON

THE

W

RONG

B

ROTHER

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If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases…

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OVE

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Bull rider Adam Meyer put Devil’s Falls in his rearview mirror years ago and hasn’t stopped running since. Now he’s back—temporarily, if he

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ex’s attention? Show up on the arm of a sexy younger man. She just hopes Dean Hartley is up for the task of fake boyfriend. But Dean is

determined to show her—in as many ways as possible—that giving up crazy, hot sex for a stale, predictable life isn’t what she wants—and

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Reclusive gaming magazine exec Ethan Talley is furious when his business partner hires a photographer—a gorgeous photographer with an

affinity for glitter and sex—to take pictures for the newspaper. No matter how badly he wants the woman…under him, over him, against the

nearest wall…he has reasons for not wanting to be on camera anymore, and his scars are only one of them.

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Security Company CEO Josh Slater put his life on hold when he said “I do” to protect a stranger. While his marriage was never meant to be

real—he hasn’t even seen his wife, Alexia Slater, in five years—Josh can’t shake the idea that he’d be cheating if he moves on. Now he’s a

man with a mission: chase down his “wife,” get an annulment. But to keep her greedy family at bay, Lexi needs to stay married. When the

chemistry explodes between them, there’s no stopping the battle of wills only one of them can win…


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