by Linda Engman
There was no doubt about it—Roman Vasquez was the most gorgeous male she’d ever laid eyes on. Even dripping wet he was magnificent. His damp dark hair was silky and gleaming. As she had imagined it would be. Swarthy skinned from top to bottom, he had an impressive set of broad shoulders and a ripped six-pack stomach. His wide, muscled chest was covered with a mat of dark hair that tapered before disappearing below the towel that rode low on his lean hips. What she could see of his legs looked equally muscled and hairy. He even sported tattoos on one muscled upper arm, which only made him more dangerously sexy looking.
But it wasn’t his body that was making her speechless. It was his dark eyes and the way he was looking at her. It was exactly the kind of look a man gives a woman when he wants her and there is nothing in the world that’s going stop him. It was a heart-stopping, pulse-pounding gaze generated by a million watts of energy.
Passionate…smoldering…forbidden.
The kind of gaze a woman can only hope to see once in a lifetime, and for her, it was happening with Roman Vasquez. Wow.
“April?” he said harshly, sounding dazed by her presence.
“I’m sorry…I didn’t realize…” she started, not understanding, not believing what was happening between them.
In an instant everything she’d thought of him, everything she’d ever despised in him, vanished, replaced with a heated energy that took her by surprise. It raced through her body, igniting each fiber of her being. Flames of desire licked every square inch of her, and she didn’t doubt for a minute that he could see it in her eyes. There was no more denying she was strongly attracted to him. For months she’d tried to hide it, but it was useless to keep up the facade. Her feminine instincts had known what she wanted long before the rational part of her mind admitted it.
Like a predatory male, he crossed the room without words, his dark gaze never leaving her questioning one. He tossed the towel he had been using to dry his hair onto the sofa and slowly took her left hand, releasing the paperweight from her grasp to gently replace it onto the table without a sound. With her trembling hand firmly clasped in his, he studied it—sans her engagement ring—before raising his eyes to hers.
He shook his head in denial. “Oh, man, this is really a bad idea,” he growled, bitter regret echoing in his voice while he debated his next move. His fiery gaze traveled over her expectant features. Wavering, he slowly relented and angled his head to tentatively lower his firm lips to hers, his touch uncertain and forcibly restrained. That lasted all of three seconds before he swiftly gave in all the way, deepening the kiss, capturing her lips fully with a greedy, sensual power that was nothing short of mind-blowing.
To April, being this near to him was overpowering, wild, and terrifying all at the same time. Inside her head it seemed a wild rock band blared while a million fireworks exploded.
Crazy. Unthinkable. This cannot be happening.
He kissed her passionately, fiercely, and all out. Definitely a where-the-hell-have-you-been-all-my-life kind of kiss that made her melt against him while he pulled her into his strong embrace. His tongue swept the sweetness of her mouth, offering her everything he had. He held nothing back while he continued to show her how much he wanted her. In turn she placed a shy hand against his bare chest, feeling him tense slightly at her light touch. He was warm and hard and felt better than anything she’d experienced before in her life. The taste of him, the wicked feel of his tongue sliding against hers, was equally erotic and sensual; undeniably the sexiest experience of her adult life.
He pulled back and gazed into her eyes for a split second before capturing her mouth again in a forceful move. She shivered and moaned in surrender as he nipped at her bottom lip before plunging his tongue into her mouth again to tease hers in a dirty, arousing way. More than willing at this point, she kissed him back with everything she had, feeling as if the world was spinning out of control. A fierce growl escaped him as she moved one hand up his chest and over his broad shoulder to tangle in his silky, damp black hair. Meanwhile, her other hand remained captured between them, held firmly within his.
She never knew kissing someone could be so explosive…so powerful…so perfectly sinful.
“Roman! We had an agreement! Or did you forget about our wedding?”
Chapter Two
The high-pitched shrill of a woman’s voice was like a bucket of icy cold water thrown over them. Mortified, April quickly untangled herself from Roman’s warm muscled body and jumped back. Shaking and unsure, she flinched while he swore under his breath in Spanish, his dark eyes even more dangerous looking as he fought to control his breathing.
Releasing her, he turned away to raise a dark winged brow at the tall, thin, and exquisitely dressed female who was now fuming in his living room. “Justine, didn’t you ever hear of knocking?”
“Knock? The door was ajar, so I let myself in. And don’t give me attitude. We had an agreement. Obviously you can’t seem to live up to it, even on the day we were supposed to sign the damn pre-nup papers. I was expecting more from you Roman Vasquez. In light of what I just witnessed, you can find another female who doesn’t care if you make a laughingstock of her. The deal is off. I have a reputation to maintain in this city even if you don’t. You can keep your damned money.”
Roman Vasquez sighed wearily, obviously bored with the woman’s speech. “Justine, don’t overreact.”
April moved to the far side of the living room, in awe not only of the way the other woman was speaking, but of how much her outfit must have cost. She was the quintessential posh Manhattan society woman. Designer all the way, from her fur wrap to her killer high heels. Her sleek black hair was equally styled, and her makeup looked like it was airbrushed on. Garish red lipstick and nails completed the over-the-top look. What Roman Vasquez saw in her was anyone’s guess.
The seething female gave him a deadly look. “Overreact? Hmph! Well, how is this for overreacting?”
As the woman stomped out of Roman Vasquez’s loft, he did nothing but storm to the door, closing it behind her with a final ear-splitting slam. She’d expected him to at least deny what was going on between them and go after her. Instead he turned and stalked back to her with a thunderous look on his face.
April wrung her hands, waiting for him to tell her to get out. She wouldn’t blame him if he did. She’d done nothing to stop him and in fact had jumped all over the guy the minute he started kissing her.
Without warning he grabbed her left hand and brought it up in front of them both, looking from her ring-less finger to the shocked blush that covered her face. “Where the hell is your engagement ring?”
Speechless, she shrugged. “I…I took it off.”
“But why?”
She pulled her hand out of his larger one and took a step back, putting some much needed distance between them. “That’s for me to know and well, frankly, for you not to.”
He laughed coldly and placed his hands on his lean, towel-clad hips. “Now that’s the Miss Sutton I know. Welcome back.”
She sighed heavily as her temper flared. “All right, if you must know—my fiancé decided to marry some Swedish model while in Paris, and somehow forgot he was already engaged to me. Now that I think of it, you two seem to have a lot in common.” She couldn’t believe the weird turn of events her evening was suddenly taking.
Ignoring her barb, he instead looked very satisfied at her explanation, even having the audacity to break out into a heart-stopping smile. “Good—then you can marry me.”
She blinked rapidly and felt her mouth drop open and then close with a snap. Hot blood rushed through her ears, her heart pounded like a jackhammer, and she had the distinct feeling she was very close to fainting.
“Ignoring that last bizarre statement—it’s time for me to go,” she stated hotly. Beyond flustered, she started to move around him, only to find herself captured once again in his strong grip.
“Not so fast,” he ordered, pulling her back toward him. “I’ve got forty-
eight hours to get married, and my last prospect just dumped me. Since you’re partially responsible, I think the least you can do is marry me.”
Of all the nerve! The man couldn’t be serious. She didn’t doubt his sex life was a constant rotation of women. No way was she going to be the next one. Yeah, good speech, April but did you see his abs? She ignored the voice in her head and played innocent. “How is it my fault that you got dumped by your fiancé?”
“Well, for starters you were standing there in that dress, with no ring on your finger, looking at me…like…you know…” His voice faltered slightly as he tried to explain his way out of kissing her.
She hid an unexpected grin at his sudden discomfort. “Like?” she prompted.
“I can’t think of any other way to explain it—kinda like you wanted to hookup.”
Hookup? Did he really have to use that word tonight? “That is so not true,” she protested, knowing it was an outright lie. “And I really don’t know what just happened here between us, but believe me, it will never be repeated. So if you don’t mind, let’s split the difference and forget the whole thing.” She made another move to leave.
He stepped in front of her and blocked her perfect exit. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Frustrated, she straightened her back and glared at him. “Okay, that’s it. This has been sort of weirdly fun, but I’m really leaving. Good luck with your women problems, Mr. Vasquez. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding a replacement.” She started to move and paused. “Oh, by the way, the contracts you wanted are over there.”
She stomped around him, and snatched up her wrap and purse from the coffee table, intent on salvaging her girl’s night out with the help of a couple of extra strong cocktails and some serious girl talk with her best friend. She made it exactly three feet toward the foyer before his deep voice stopped her.
“Contrary to what you might think, Miss Sutton, I don’t have time to find another woman to marry. If I don’t get hitched in the next two days, I’ll lose a very large endowment fund entrusted to me from my grandfather. I have to tie the knot before my thirty-fifth birthday on New Year’s Day or the trust fund will resort to my step-grandmother’s side of the family.”
April paused and rolled her eyes, at this point more than irked he should think himself and his money problems all-important. Crossing her arms in a defiant pose, she looked back to where he stood. She tried her best to ignore how lethally sexy he looked still dressed only in a towel, along with that determined expression riding on his handsome features. “First of all, you must be joking. And secondly, if you’re not, I’m sure there must be another ‘Justine’ out there willing to marry you for the right price. I’m also sure you can live without your grandfather’s money. I know for a fact you’re financially secure.”
She was about to turn and leave—for good this time—when his voice stopped her again.
“That money will be used to support community projects and a six-floor hospital wing exclusively for children with cancer.”
April stopped mid-stride. At his softly spoken words a chill ran down her spine, and she found herself turning to glance back to where he still stood, poised like some Greek god with his hands on his hips in a forceful stance. “What did you say?”
His narrowed eyes never left hers as he moved toward her. “It’s a large trust fund. I’ll be able to build six hospital floors solely for children with cancer. Some floors will have hospital rooms for the kids and the usual. Other floors will have apartments available for the families to stay in, rather than expensive hotel rooms, while their sick child is treated. If the children are able, they can stay with their parents in the apartments while undergoing treatment. There will be restaurants, indoor playgrounds, as well as an outdoor terrace playground, movie theater…the funds are badly needed. Now do you see why I need that money?”
April was speechless. What he was proposing was incredible. It went beyond what was expected of someone with that kind of money and power. “But what do you get out of it?” she asked tentatively, sure there was a loophole somewhere in the deal.
A flash of disappointment mixed with surprise crossed his face. “Uh…actually nothing, I guess, except the satisfaction my step-cousins will never get their greedy hands on the money. It will be put to good use instead of squandered away on playthings they think they need for their lifestyle. I’ll also get the satisfaction of knowing my grandfather’s hard-earned money will do some good for others.”
“What hospital will benefit from this?”
He raised an eyebrow at her question. “Saint Vincent’s.”
She nodded, her mind racing ahead at the prospect. “Some of us at the law firm volunteer at Saint Vincent’s in the children’s ward. We read books and play games with the kids staying there.”
“Then you understand how important this is?” he asked, watching her closely as she thought over his proposal.
“Yes…but this is totally insane. You and I getting married?”
“I’ll offer you the same contract and amount as I did Justine.”
Her head started to spin with the realization. “Oh, I wouldn’t need to be paid to marry you. I mean, you could give the money to charity. Or better yet, use it to start a library for the kids at the hospital.”
“Then you’ll marry me?” he asked smoothly, so sure of himself, besides making the situation sound completely simple and matter-of-fact.
She knew otherwise. Legal situations were never as simple as they seemed. “What about taking your grandfather’s will to court to see if there’s a possibility of overturning the conditions of the will? Have you tried that at least? Or better yet, maybe you could ask for a delay in the will being executed. Surely there must be another way?”
“Believe me, I’ve already done everything I could to get around the marriage clause,” he stated. “It’s airtight. My grandfather was a very astute businessman. If I choose to fight the conditions of his will, it could take another year. I already have this building project in the works. Putting it on hold would mean a substantial loss, not only in funds for the building, but in wages for the construction workers. I’ve already secured permits and materials, and the hospital is counting on the addition. My company has already given them a completion date.”
“People really don’t do things like this,” she murmured, still in shock. “It’s straight out of the dark ages.”
“I’m running out of time, and it’s my only way to get the money.”
April felt something tug at her heart. She walked to the other side of the room to obtain some space and think rationally. Conflicted, she glanced down to the snowy street below and to the buildings across the way, pondering how she’d gotten herself into such a mess. If she walked away from him, it could mean no hospital wing. If she stayed and married him…she rolled her eyes again and groaned in fateful resolution. She was too softhearted for her own good. Roman Vasquez was playing on her weakness—knowing she couldn’t stand to have those sick children going without. The man didn’t fight fair.
She didn’t hear him approach her until she felt his hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face him. “I’ll give you a few minutes to think about it while I dress. Promise me you won’t leave?” he asked in a so-not-him humble tone, his large hands gentle on her arms.
Speechless and bewildered, she nodded, watching as he walked down a long hall and disappeared into a bedroom, the rock music still blaring from the same direction.
A few minutes to think about it? Was the man crazy?
Did he really expect her to decide whether or not to marry someone in two minutes?
Chapter Three
Roman closed his bedroom door and leaned against it. He felt physically and mentally drained for the first time in his life. The woman in the next room had turned him upside down. His gut twisted painfully at the memory of their kiss.
Not your best move, dude.
No kidding, asshole.
What t
he hell made him kiss her like that? For months he’d played it cool, ignoring the feelings he had whenever he was around her. But tonight he’d lost it big time. He’d acted like some hormonal jerk out to score with the first chick through the door.
He turned off the music, in need of some quiet to think about what had happened. Did I seriously ask the woman to marry me? He groaned and ran his hands down his face, filled now with self-loathing at his irresponsible action. He could have easily taken the longer route and had his grandfather’s will contested in court and absorbed the monetary loss, or scrambled to find some other female to fill the temporary role of his fake bride. But no—instead he impulsively convinced himself and her that marriage was the only course of action.
And he knew exactly why he was forcing her into agreeing—his damn male ego.
In his demented mind, there was a red-hot burning need to salvage his male pride where she was concerned. The woman had tormented him for the past six months. Somewhere deep inside of him, in the very depths of his existence, he needed to extract some form of revenge for all that torture.
At the same time, he had to acknowledge his behavior tonight was crazy, reckless, and definitely unlike anything he had ever done before.
Or maybe I just need to prove to myself what a stupid asshole I am.
With Justine the deal was cut and dried. She’d been nothing more than an old acquaintance in need of financial help. In turn, he got the use of her name on a marriage certificate. No relationship, no sex, just a contract marriage that would last until the hospital wing was completed. Both parties going their separate ways afterward. For her help and discretion, Justine received a sizable amount to cover her overcharged credit cards and keep her happy for years to come. At least that had been the plan. Obviously, from the jealous way Justine had overreacted, the woman must have had expectations of moving their deal along to include some added benefits that didn’t involve clothing.