by Robin Gianna
“You know how it is, trying to say goodbyes and exit an event like this. Takes at least another hour, so let’s get the process started.”
She didn’t, really. If she walked out the door that second, she was quite sure not a soul would bother her, but she’d already seen the attention Rafael garnered, and could well believe he’d be stopped by half the crowd en route.
Which was exactly what happened. And each time he was stopped he took pains to draw her into the conversation. Not only did he introduce her to everyone with glowing compliments about her skills as a midwife, stating again how lucky The Hollywood Hills Clinic was to have her, there was something else in his eyes and expression as he did so.
Something that didn’t seem like simple professional admiration. Instead, it felt much more personal.
That odd mix of excitement and dismay rolled around her belly all over again, which was dangerous. Yes, it was a magical night. But she couldn’t let the magic of it allow her to forget. She couldn’t risk a relationship with any man, even one as amazing as Rafael. And, yes, she knew a man like Rafael Moreno would want only a fling, but even that would be too much.
Why was she even thinking he’d want that, anyway? Must be the Cinderella feeling she’d had all evening, wearing a dress far fancier than she’d ever worn before, on a date with pretty much the world’s most handsome bachelor prince. The feel of his big, possessive hand holding hers or resting on her lower back. The compliments. The way he looked at her for long moments as though they were totally alone.
She shook her head fiercely at herself. The man doubtless acted like that with all women at parties, and especially those on a date with him, and to read anything more into it was plain foolish. Probably flirting came to him as naturally as the charm he’d exuded all evening. As naturally as the arrogant rudeness he’d bestowed on her when they’d first met.
Any woman would be intrigued by a multifaceted man like Rafael Moreno. None of it meant a thing—not his flirting and not the googly eyes she caught herself making at him. Tomorrow she’d be wearing her scrubs again, they’d go back to their normal, cordial working relationship and tonight would be forgotten.
Trying to bring her mind back to the conversation, she watched his mouth move as he talked to friends of James he obviously knew, and the sensuality of his lips pretty much obliterated all her previous self-scolding. Her ability to converse. Her thoughts instead drifted to all wrong ones that gave her tummy a different kind of funny feeling. A feeling that she’d give her next paycheck to kiss him once, just to see how it would feel. Just once. Once before the strike of midnight—was that so much to ask?
She stared in fascination as he took a sip of his drink and his tongue licked a tiny drop from his lip. And with breathless certainty she knew. The man would be one amazing kisser.
“You probably agree with that, don’t you, Gabriella?”
Rafael had turned fully to her, the slight curve of his lips fading as their eyes met, and she foggily realized the people he’d been talking to had moved on. Several beats passed as they just stared at one another, and Gabby wished she had some idea how to answer him but had no clue.
His lids lowered slightly, and something hot and alive flickered inside that deep green. “You weren’t listening at all, were you, bella?” He stepped closer, his voice a low rumble. “Something else on your mind?”
Yeah. Oh, yeah, but I’m not saying what. Except she had a bad feeling it was written in red neon on her forehead for him to see anyway. Frantically trying to come up with an answer that wasn’t incriminating, she managed one word. “Sweatpants.”
A slow smile creased his face and made his eyes gleam. “Mine too, Gabriella. Let’s get out of here.”
“I don’t believe you even own sweatpants.”
“Not true. I have all the latest designers’ versions in every color, like any prince should.”
“Now you’re making fun of me. I wasn’t saying you wouldn’t have any because you’re a prince, it’s because...because...oh, never mind.” He might have been saying sweet and complimentary things about her all night, but it still felt strange to tell him what she’d been thinking. Which was that he exuded a regal confidence all too well suited by the tuxedo he wore. Then again, that same presence filled any room he was in at the clinic, even wearing scrubs, so clearly it had nothing to do with what he wore.
Or what he didn’t.
Shocked at the sudden fantasy of what he might look like naked, which she sort of, kind of almost knew, she pinched her lips closed so she wouldn’t say anything completely embarrassing as he opened the car door. So focused on her thoughts and, well, truthfully, on him and his sheer, breathtaking masculinity as he held her hand, she barely noticed the dozens of flashbulbs lighting the night. His big body shielded her from the cameras as he tucked her into his car before sliding into the driver’s seat.
“Seat belt on?” The engine roared to life as he turned the key in the ignition, pausing to look at her with one eyebrow quirked.
“Yes.”
“Good.” The car rolled slowly forward for about ten feet, then took off like a rocket down the curve and onto the main road.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE GROWLING SPORTS car’s sudden acceleration shoved Gabby back into the sumptuously curved leather seat, and she gasped then chuckled. “You must be in a hurry to get into those sweatpants.”
He didn’t answer. Just looked at her with that glint in his eyes. A gaze so unnerving she felt like he might be seeing something clear down in her soul she didn’t want him to see. He was close, so close to her inside the small confines of the car it seemed he’d sucked every bit of oxygen completely out of the space, making it very hard to breathe.
“Um, you’re making me nervous,” she finally said. “If you’re looking at me, that means you’re not looking at the road, and if I have to die, I want equal billing in the headlines.”
“Equal billing?” His gaze finally moved to the road, and she let out a relieved breath. “What do you mean?”
“You know, instead of ‘Prince Rafael Moreno and some other person die in car crash,’ I’d like to at least get ‘Joe Schmoe and Gabby Cain plunge into a canyon to their deaths.’”
He laughed. “And here I would have thought you didn’t crave publicity, like most of our patients do.”
“I’m kidding, of course. Believe me, the last thing I would ever want is my name splashed in the papers for any reason.” Not that it would ever happen to her. But she’d seen enough times when patients got publicity they’d originally wanted, only to have it result in reporters digging deep into details of their lives they didn’t want shared.
“I’ve been in the media since the day I was born. You get used to it.”
“I didn’t get what that might be like, not really, until all those cameras flashed in my face. It may be just a part of life for people like you and Cameron Fontaine, but I bet it’s still not fun.” And suddenly it struck her that someone just might want to put a name to her face. Some unknown woman attending tonight’s party with a Mediterranean prince. Her stomach tightened at the thought, until she remembered that Freya had made a big, public deal out of her being a midwife at The Hollywood Hills Clinic. Surely that’s all they would report. Probably no one would feel a need to look beyond that.
The car ground to a halt against the curb in front of her apartment. Rafael turned off the engine and the sudden quiet seemed to ring in her ears along with her rapid heartbeat. He had that look in his eyes again. The one he’d had all evening, as though he thought she was special. Beautiful, which he’d said, but men so often didn’t mean what they said, she knew. Sometimes their words were a thoughtless, casual compliment, or a tactic to get sex, or a way to distract a woman from starting important conversations.
And yet when Rafael complimented her, it didn’t feel like any of those thi
ngs. It struck her that, other than the appreciation she often got from her patients, she hadn’t felt special to anyone in a very long time.
The last time she had, it had proven to be a mirage. Evaporating when she’d messed up so badly. Her mistake had broken her heart. Then, along with being heartbroken, she’d been suddenly alone, just when she’d needed support and love more than at any other time in her life.
She drew in a breath, shoved the pain of those negative memories aside, and stomped on them for good measure. Wasn’t she Cinderella, just for tonight? Maybe she didn’t really deserve happiness, but this evening Rafael had made her feel wonderful and carefree, and she wasn’t quite ready for the evening, and those good feelings, to end.
“Would you...like to come in for coffee?”
The eyes that seemed to be studying her with questions in them warmed, crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “I’d like that very much.”
Once inside, she ushered him to sit down, and her belly quivered with a maelstrom of nerves and excitement. She’d lived in L.A. for two years but had never had even one man in her apartment. There’d been good reason for that, and there still was, but tonight was a fairy tale, right? One evening before her life went back to normal at midnight.
“Feel free to change into those sweats so you’re more comfortable,” he said, slipping off his tuxedo jacket and settling himself onto one side of her sofa. “I would if I could.”
She watched his long, tanned fingers pull the end of his bow tie, sliding it off before slowly unbuttoning his top shirt buttons, revealing a bronzed throat. Then realized she was just standing there motionless, practically mooning over the man.
Yep. Tuxedo libido all right.
“I think I’ll do that. Be right back.”
Alone in her room, she felt a twinge of regret at having to take off the dress that had made her feel like she was floating as they’d danced around the ballroom. But it would feel silly, not to mention uncomfortable, to be sitting in her living room in a long gown. As she slid off her clothes, the brief thought of Rafael walking into her room and sweeping her into his arms shortened her breath, but at the same time she laughed at herself. Definitely too much fairy-tale fantasy going on in her head tonight! One thing she was sure of—arrogant or not, playboy reputation or not, he wasn’t the kind of man to do something inappropriate like that.
She quickly slipped into a T-shirt and the shapeless, comfy sweatpants they’d joked about, feeling even more unisex in them than the scrubs she wore most days. But if she put on jeans to look at least marginally attractive, he might know why. As the thoughts pinged around in her brain she rolled her eyes at herself and snorted. “Get a grip on yourself, Gabby. He’s probably just here to be polite.”
But when she emerged to walk across the living room, the way his gaze tracked her made her feel like she still had that gown on after all. Heart thudding, she made coffee in her small kitchen that opened to the living room so she could still see him, watching her in a way that was unnerving but exciting.
“Do you take cream or sugar?”
“Just black.”
She handed him the cup, hyperaware of the feel of his fingers sliding against hers as he took it. Then stood there hesitating, probably looking like a fool, as she pondered whether or not to sit next to him on the sofa or several, discreet feet away in a chair.
The decision was made for her when he reached for her hand and gave it a gentle tug. “Sit by me. You can curl up in comfort a lot better here than over there.”
“How did you know this is my curling-up corner? Was I eyeing it longingly?”
“You could say that.”
Oh, Lord. Maybe he’d spotted her eyeing him longingly. Breaking eye contact with that amused green, she took longer than necessary to slide her cup onto a coaster before scrunching up in the corner as far away from him as possible. Which was still just a couple feet from him. She needed a distraction, and picked her cup up to take a sip, eyeing him over the rim, wondering if the heat radiating through her body was from his nearness or the coffee. She had a bad feeling it had nothing to do with her drink.
Despite loosening his top shirt buttons, there was no way he could be described as being able to “curl up in comfort.”
“I feel bad you’re still in your starched finery, but I don’t think anything I have here would fit you.”
“Which is a good thing, as I always feel a little strange when I’m at a woman’s home and she opens a wardrobe of men’s clothes for me to choose from.”
“Does that really happen?”
“More than you’d guess. Which is one of the many reasons spending time with you is like breathing in fresh air.”
“Does that line usually work for you?”
“It’s one I haven’t used before, because I meant it.” His eyes gleamed. “Maybe you can tell me how well it works.”
She gulped. Should she tell him that just hearing that deep, sexy voice of his recite the alphabet might make her jump into his lap? If she’d been a different kind of woman, that was. A woman interested in being with a man. “I’m not much of an expert on lines men use, so I’m not a good person to ask.”
“If that’s true, the men in Los Angeles must not be very bright. You’re not only beautiful, in the short time I’ve known you I’ve seen you’re smart and caring and feisty and damned special. And I promise that’s not a line.”
The amusement had left his face, and his expression was utterly serious as he looked at her. Gabby felt her heart melting and thudding and had no idea what she was supposed to say in response. Maybe compliment him too?
“And I’ve seen that you’re not the arrogant jerk I thought you were. Just a doctor who does what it takes to make things right for a patient, whether it’s good medical care, empathy, or humor. Princely attitude notwithstanding.”
“Thank you. I think.” He smiled again. “Is that what’s called a backhanded compliment? But I probably deserve both the good and bad from it. So tell me. Why do you work so much? So many double shifts? And when you’re not working, why do you keep mostly to yourself?”
Startled by the turn of the conversation, she found herself hesitating, for a split second feeling a shocking need to share her past, her mistakes. Her pain. But that was ridiculous. She didn’t talk to anyone about it. She barely knew Rafael, and he probably wouldn’t want their evening together to be spoiled by a depressing conversation. Not to mention that the last thing she needed was for everyone at the hospital to know who she really was. “I love my job. And who says I keep mostly to myself?”
“Freya. James. Even if they hadn’t, I’ve seen it just in the short time I’ve been here. Seen a sadness that you carry with you.” He reached to grasp her hand again, his touch warm and comforting and somehow arousing all at the same time. “What makes you sad, Gabriella?”
“I... Nothing.” Just the bittersweet part of her job, bringing babies into the world to loving parents who wanted them. Praying they never had to know how it felt to lose one. “How about you? What makes Rafael Moreno travel the world, working hard and playing hard?”
“Different reasons. But one I just found out? Once in a very long while I’m lucky to meet someone remarkable I enjoy being with.” He moved closer, his fingers slipping beneath her chin to bring her gaze to the darkening green one staring at her. “Someone who makes me feel strangely happy in a way I didn’t even realize I wanted to.”
She stared in breathless fascination as his mouth slowly lowered to hers, giving her time to protest or pull away, but she found she wanted his kiss. Wanted it with a desperation new to her experience. Had wanted it, if she was honest, all the hours they’d spent together.
His lips touched hers, warm and soft and gentle. Not demanding or insistent or aggressive, as she would have expected a man like him to kiss. No, it was the sweetest kiss s
he’d ever experienced in her life, his mouth moving slowly and surely on hers, giving and taking, and the longer it went on the more her heart liquefied into a puddle of want for him.
The fingers beneath her chin slipped across her jaw, his wide palm cupping her cheek as the kiss deepened, heated, and Gabby was glad she was half lying down or she was sure she’d have fallen down.
“Gabriella.” His usually almost nonexistent accent thickened slightly as he spoke against her mouth. “I knew you would taste delicioso.”
“It’s...the coffee.”
She could feel him smile even as he kept pressing soft kisses to her lips. “No, belleza, it’s most definitely you.”
A sigh of pleasure left her lips as the kiss went from slow and sweet to hot and wet and so earth-shattering she found herself clutching his muscled shoulders and hanging on for dear life. His palms had moved from her face to tangle in her hair, turning her head to the perfect angle for a deep, mind-blowing kiss. Dazed, she realized one hand had moved down to slip beneath her T-shirt, tracking across her skin in a slow caress that made her shiver, finally resting on her breast through her bra.
“I...see now why you wanted me to change out of my dress.”
“I was just thinking of your comfort. And I still am.” He surprised her by moving his hand off her breast to caress her ribs again, pressing another soft kiss to her mouth, and she quivered at the tenderness of it. “Obviously, I want you. But not if the Gabriella who mostly keeps to herself will regret it tomorrow. You know I’m here for only a little while, and I have a feeling you’re not a woman comfortable with making love with a man who’s not able to stick around long.”
“Not normally, I admit.” But she’d learned not to expect someone to stick around, hadn’t she? And as she looked into the green of his eyes, dark and questioning and filled with the same intoxicating desire she was feeling, she knew with certainty that tonight was the one time to change that. “I’m content with my life as it is. But I want you, too. And tonight I feel like being Cinderella, making love with you before I turn back into plain old Gabby Cain at midnight.”