The Engagement Project

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The Engagement Project Page 12

by Brenda Harlen


  “Wow,” she said, obviously impressed.

  “It seemed the kind of momentous occasion for which a man would make an effort,” he said lightly. “Champagne?”

  She nodded. “Please.”

  He popped the cork on the bottle of Pol Roger that had been chilling in a stainless-steel bucket and poured two glasses.

  He handed one flute to Megan, then tapped the rim of his against hers. “Cheers.”

  She lifted her glass, sipped.

  “Dinner is ready whenever you want to eat,” he told her.

  “You cooked?”

  “Would you be impressed if I said I did?”

  “I’m already impressed,” she told him. “But I would wonder when you had the time.”

  “Nothing gets past you, does it?” He topped up her champagne. “Actually, I picked up takeout from The Silver Lotus and put it in the oven to keep it warm.”

  “I could eat.” She gestured with her glass of champagne. “I should eat before I drink any more of this.”

  So Gage set the food out on the table and they ate spring rolls and mango chicken with tiger shrimp and jasmine rice. As they ate, they talked, and they drank more champagne, and gradually Megan began to relax.

  It truly was the perfect setting for a romantic proposal, she thought. Perfect, that is, if they had been a couple in love and looking forward to a future together. But for Megan, knowing that their future had a predetermined time limit, it was bittersweet.

  She’d grown up believing that fairy tales were for princesses, and that she was destined to be a supporting character. But somehow, being with Gage made her feel like a princess. And while this interlude with him was nothing more than that, she would take it and the thrill of having her very own prince for as long as it lasted.

  But for just a moment, she let herself imagine what it would be like to fall in love with someone like Gage, to be loved by someone like Gage, and she knew it would be a dream come true.

  Then he got down on one knee beside her chair, with the ring box in his hand, and though she knew it wasn’t real, she couldn’t prevent her heart from fluttering in response to the old-fashioned romanticism. Which was precisely why she hadn’t wanted this to happen.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, unable to keep the panic from her voice.

  He frowned. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “This isn’t necessary,” she said. “Just give me the ring.”

  “But what if someone asks you how I proposed?”

  She hadn’t thought that far ahead, had believed it would be enough just to wear his ring on her finger, but she realized now that it was something she should have considered. “I’ll make something up.”

  “This way you won’t have to,” he told her, and took her hand.

  She knew he was right, and yet, it just felt…wrong.

  And despite his determination to formally propose, his hesitation told her that he thought so, too.

  “Megan…” He paused to clear his throat, probably of the words that were sticking there.

  No matter that they each had their own reasons for agreeing to this arrangement, to actually propose would be a mockery of the special moment that every girl—even the geeky ones—dreamed of. And she couldn’t let that happen.

  “Yes,” she said, giving him the answer he needed without waiting for the question neither of them wanted to hear him ask.

  His relief was almost palpable as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on her finger. Then he exhaled audibly and rose to his feet.

  She stared at the diamond cluster that somehow seemed even larger—and felt a lot heavier—on her hand. She swallowed. “I guess that makes it official.”

  “Not quite.”

  Now that the awkwardness of the big moment had passed, he seemed more relaxed, the familiar teasing glint replacing the uncertainty she’d seen in his eyes only a few minutes earlier.

  “I can’t imagine that you forgot anything,” she said.

  “I didn’t.” He took her hands and drew her up so that she was standing in front of him. “You did.”

  “I did?”

  He nodded. “A truly appreciative woman would throw her arms around her fiancé and kiss him breathless.”

  It wasn’t a challenge she would ordinarily have taken, but the three glasses of champagne had obviously impaired her judgment because she did exactly as he suggested.

  Gage should have learned by now to expect the unexpected with Megan. But while he knew she would accept his challenge, he hadn’t expected that she would wrap her arms around his neck and fasten her mouth to his in a kiss that actually did take his breath away.

  Her lips were even softer than he remembered, and not nearly as tentative. She nibbled, and tugged gently with her teeth, then she slipped her tongue inside his mouth and began a slow, lazy exploration that had all of the blood in his head draining south.

  And then she pressed against him, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her pelvis rocking against his, and desire shot through his system like flame-tipped arrows—fiery and dangerous.

  He grabbed her hips and pulled her even closer. She moaned, not in protest but pleasure, and even as he took control of the kiss, plundering the sweet recesses of her mouth, he cursed her for starting something he knew he couldn’t finish—not if he was going to look at his own reflection in the mirror in the morning.

  After several more delicious, torturous minutes, he reluctantly eased his mouth from hers. But he continued to hold her, his chin resting on the top of her head, while he steadied his breathing and tried to slow the rush of blood through his veins.

  “Apparently you have a handle on that kiss-me-breathless part.”

  “I’m a pretty quick study,” she said, the words muffled against his chest.

  She was that. She was also incredibly responsive and unexpectedly passionate and the soft, sexy noises she made in her throat when he was touching her nearly drove him to distraction.

  So much so that, for the first time, he seriously began to question to wisdom of this engagement project. Because although they both knew it wasn’t real, playing the part would mean spending a lot of time with her, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her for very long.

  Of course, she hadn’t asked him to keep his hands off of her. In fact, she’d asked him not to keep his hands off of her. But he doubted that she wanted or expected to be horizontal and naked within minutes of his ring being put on her finger.

  “I think it’s probably time for me to take you home.”

  “I can take a cab,” she said.

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Because we shared a whole bottle of champagne.”

  “I had one glass,” he told her. “You drank the rest.”

  “Oh. Well. I guess that explains why my head is spinning.” She looked up at him, smiled the shy little smile that never failed to tug at his heart. “I thought it was you. Being with you. Kissing you.”

  Yeah, she was definitely feeling the effects of the wine.

  “I wasn’t trying to get you drunk,” he said, guilt and concern quickly overpowering any residual lust.

  “I’m all right,” she insisted. “And I’m not entirely sure it is the champagne, because I felt the same way after you kissed me the first time.”

  “You did?”

  She nodded. “I’ve never felt so much from a kiss. Never wanted so much. You certainly know how to stir up a woman.”

  “I think those bubbles might have affected you more than you realize,” he warned.

  “I’m babbling, aren’t I? I tend to do that when I’ve been drinking, which is why I usually don’t drink much on dates. Not that I date much. Or didn’t used to. And not that I’ll be dating much now, seeing as we’re supposed to be engaged.

  “But when we break up, maybe I’ll date more then. Ashley told me this engagement would be good for me, because men always want what they can’t have.” She tilted her head t
o look up at him. “Is that true?”

  Those wide violet eyes tempted him beyond belief. Damn, he hated playing by the rules. But he had never—would never—take advantage of a woman who was obviously under the influence.

  “I’d have to say, in this moment, it is entirely too true. And that is why I’m going to take you home now.”

  “I’m not ready to go home,” she said, sliding her palms over his chest. “Not yet.”

  He snagged her wrists in his hands and prayed for the strength to endure the seduction of her innocence.

  It was only the first day in what they had agreed would be a six-month engagement and he suspected that he would spend a lot of that time praying for the willpower to resist her.

  When Megan followed the scent of fresh coffee into the kitchen the next morning, she found both Ashley and Paige waiting for her. She took a mug out of the cupboard and poured herself a cup.

  It was Ashley who spotted the ring first.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  “I told him it was too much,” Megan said, when Paige snatched her hand for a closer inspection.

  “It might not be your style,” her cousin agreed. “But it’s definitely an attention grabber.”

  “In a good way,” Ashley hastened to add, when Megan made a face.

  “Yeah, instead of putting an engagement announcement in the paper, I can just walk around town waving my hand.”

  “Speaking of announcements,” Paige said, “when are you going to tell Gage’s family?”

  “He wants us to go over to his parents’ place tonight, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of scrutiny.”

  “Then you better get ready, because no one will believe the engagement is real if the happy couple doesn’t show up together.”

  Megan sighed. “I know you’re right.”

  “How do you think they’ll take the news?” Ashley asked.

  “I’m sure they’ll be surprised, but Gage is confident they won’t be displeased.” She picked up a cinnamon bun from the plate at the center of the table and tore off a piece. “I, on the other hand, am feeling more than a little guilty, knowing that I’m deceiving these terrific people for no reason.”

  “You have a reason,” Ashley reminded her. “To shake up your good-girl image.”

  “Maybe being a good girl isn’t so bad.”

  “Trust me,” Paige said. “It’s a lot better being a little bad. Or being with a bad boy.”

  Megan shook her head. “I never should have agreed to this. But I did and now I can’t get out of it, not without ruining everything for Gage.”

  “Speaking of parents,” Ashley said.

  Megan shook her head.

  Her sister frowned. “You have to tell Mom.”

  Megan was horrified by the thought. “No, I don’t.”

  “She’ll never forgive you if she hears about it from someone else.”

  “She’s in Switzerland with Edward until Ashley’s wedding,” Megan reminded her. “That’s one of the reasons I finally agreed to go along with Gage’s plan, because she won’t be back until this charade is over.”

  “One of the reasons?” Paige queried.

  Megan had told her cousin and her sister the truth about the engagement because they were her closest friends, but she hadn’t told them about her plans to get naked and horizontal with her temporary fiancé.

  After all, there were some things that even best friends didn’t need to know.

  Chapter Eleven

  Megan had been wearing Gage’s ring for three weeks and while they’d been spending a lot of time together both in and out of the lab, Gage hadn’t once kissed her like he had the night they got engaged. He’d promised to teach her about male-female interactions, but she felt that her greatest lesson so far had been in sexual frustration.

  “Want to grab some dinner?” Gage asked her as they were leaving the lab Friday night.

  Meg shook her head. “I want to go home with you.”

  “For dinner?”

  She couldn’t blame him for being confused. After all, he hadn’t been privy to the mental debate she’d waged with herself over the past several hours. Which meant that she would have to be a little more explicit about what she wanted.

  “For sex,” she said bluntly.

  He stared at her.

  “I just feel like I’ve been waiting and wondering for long enough. Now I just want to get it over with.”

  “Well, that’s an enthusiastic endorsement.”

  She felt her cheeks flare. “I’m sorry. I am enthused. I really want to do this.”

  “But?”

  How did he always seem to know when she was holding something back? And why couldn’t he just take her up on her offer so that she could stop stressing over the details of what might or might not happen?

  “But…I’m afraid I’ll be disappointed.”

  His brows lifted.

  “Not because of you,” she said hastily. “I’m sure you’re very good. Spectacular even.”

  “Thank you for that,” he said drily.

  Her cheeks burned hotter. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “I’m not,” he denied. “I’m just wondering why you’re so anxious to get to something you expect will be disappointing.”

  “It’s not that I expect it to be,” she denied. “But…Bill said I had…unrealistic expectations.”

  “Unrealistic expectations?”

  She nodded.

  He seemed to consider that for a moment before asking, “Did you want to do it upside down on a trapeze?”

  “No. Of course not.” How could he even ask her that? Obviously she was way out of her league with Gage Richmond and crazy to even think about having sex with a man like him.

  “Well, that’s good,” he said. “Because I don’t have a trapeze.”

  “You’re making fun of me again, aren’t you?”

  He smiled. “A little. But only because you’re taking this so seriously.”

  “Not everyone thinks of sex as fun and games,” she said, just a little primly.

  “Maybe if more people did, there would be fewer disappointments.” He took her hands, squeezed gently. “Do you trust me, Meg?”

  She nodded without hesitation.

  “Then trust that we’ll get around to it, when the time is right.”

  She was disappointed by his response…and unexpectedly relieved. So she nodded again. “Okay.”

  He touched his lips to hers. “So how about pizza tonight?”

  “Pizza sounds great.”

  It took more willpower than Gage would have thought he possessed to turn down Megan’s offer. But while the words were what he wanted to hear, the way she blurted them out warned that she wasn’t as certain about what she wanted as she tried to appear. And while he wanted her desperately, he didn’t want her resigned, he wanted her aroused.

  He didn’t doubt that she was looking for sexual experience, but he also didn’t doubt that she lacked such experience because she wasn’t the type of woman to give herself to a man easily or lightly. Which meant that he was going to have to keep a tight rein on his own wants and needs until he was certain that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  And maybe he was partly responsible for her apprehension. He’d been so careful not to push that he’d avoided touching her, worried that if he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop. But he realized now that because he’d been keeping his distance from her, she was immediately nervous when he got too close.

  The key, he knew, was to get her to relax so that she wasn’t thinking about what might or might not happen, so that things evolved naturally.

  So they did go for pizza—and they took it back to his place.

  It was only the second time she’d been there, the first being the night that he’d put the engagement ring on her finger. Usually when they were together, it was at a restaurant or a movie theater or some other public place. Sometimes they would hang out at her house, usually with her sister
and sometimes her cousin, but even if they were alone, the knowledge that Ashley might come in at any time was enough to hold his urges in check. He’d deliberately not taken her back to his place because he wasn’t sure he could withstand the temptation of being alone with her.

  But over the next couple of weeks, he took her to his home several more times to share a meal, maybe some wine and conversation. The first few times she was in his condo, she jolted every time he touched her, as if she expected he was going to jump her. But by the beginning of the second week, she had grown accustomed to the casual brush of his hand against her thigh, the lazy caress of a fingertip trailing down her arm.

  But as she was becoming more comfortable with him, he was becoming distinctly more uncomfortable. It seemed that he couldn’t touch her without ending up with a raging hard-on. And when they sat on his sofa making out like teenagers, he worried that he was going to embarrass himself like a teenager in the backseat of his dad’s car.

  When Megan started initiating the touching and kissing, he figured that was a pretty clear sign that he’d been patient long enough.

  He scooped her into his arms.

  Megan’s eyes went wide. “I thought this was something that only happened in movies and books.”

  He grinned. “In movies and books and in real-life moments when a man has been pushed to the limits of his endurance.”

  Her lips curved as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. “Are we going to have sex now?”

  “I think that’s a pretty good bet.”

  Her smile wavered, just a little. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this,” she said. “I mean, if it’s not what you want.”

  “Why would you think it’s not what I want?”

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about our agreement, and I realized it really wasn’t fair to use sex as a bargaining chip.”

  “I’m not complaining,” he assured her.

  “I just don’t want you to worry that I’ll renege on our deal if you want to change the terms.”

  “I don’t want to change the terms. What I want is you.” He kissed her softly, deeply. “I want you, Megan,” he said again. “And it has nothing to do with the bargain we made and everything to do with the fact that you are a beautiful, smart, sexy woman—even if you are oblivious to the fact that you are a beautiful, smart, sexy woman.”

 

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