Chapter 4
He studied her critically and she allowed it.
"Will I do?" she asked mildly. He had insisted on swinging by to pick her up and had been surprised by the area she called home.
It was in the downtown area, near shops and trendy restaurants. It was an up-and-coming district that had gone through a lot of renovations over the past year.
A shopping mall was in the first stages of renovations. A burnt-out warehouse was being gutted to make room for a supermarket chain.
And the park was across the street from her apartment.
The apartment itself could use some work. The paint was peeling and the structure looked a little shaky.
She lived on the bottom floor, with steps leading up to a tiny porch. Flowers were in pots and were blooming.
The scent of roses vied with daisies and daffodils. The sound of a baby crying competed with someone playing an accordion, badly.
Traffic whizzed by every few seconds.
He frowned at the flesh revealed by the plunging neckline of the rust-colored jacket. The skirt was long, a shimmery kind of green that swirled around her slender frame.
A trio of gold necklaces were at her throat, one dipping between her cleavage. Earrings sparkled at her lobes and her usual collection of bangles was on both wrists.
"Well?"
"You're not wearing a bra."
Her tapered brows lifted as she slung an oversized bag over her left shoulder and closed and locked the door behind her. He was determined not to feel resentful that she had not even invited him in.
Her perfume, something seductive and appealing, assailed his nostrils.
"There's no need for one." She glanced at him, her expression one of amusement.
"I'm sure your grandfather in his advanced age has seen more than his fair share of female skin." She bounded down the steps, leaving him to follow.
Lifting her hand, bangles jangling, she hailed a guy whizzing by on a motorcycle. When he stopped and came back, Craig set his teeth.
They were already running late.
"Hey, Gina!" Kicking the lever, the burly man hopped off the back and came towards her, his smile wide.
"Where're you going all dressed up?"
"On a date." She grinned as he wrapped her in his bulky arms.
"This is Craig. Craig, this is a very good friend of mine, Jerry Whittle. He lives up the street."
"Hey." Jerry flicked him a glance before turning back to Gina.
His anger spiked.
Setting his teeth, he unlocked the car and got in, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wheel as he waited.
He was about to hop back out and demand that she get in the vehicle when she opened the door.
"Sorry, Jerry is a talker. He wanted to tell me about his new bike."
"We're late." Gritting his teeth, he punched the start button and peeled away from the curb.
Turning sideways, Regina studied his set expression. "You're upset."
"What gave it away?" He merged into traffic and cursed himself for being a fool who was caught up in a situation that wasn't sitting well with him.
"I already apologized. Do you want a written note as well?"
He turned to cut her a glance, green eyes frosty.
"That would certainly be beneath you, wouldn't it? I had to sit in the car and wait for you to open the bloody door. Not only that, but you also never once invited me inside. I'm beginning to think that common courtesy is beyond you."
He pushed through traffic, his temper spiking. "And then you had that guy draped all over you and ignored me as if I was an inconvenience."
Her own temper surfaced.
"Let's get one damn thing straight here. We have an agreement. I will be entering into a fake marriage that will alter my lifestyle. I'm going to have to pretend like mad that I'm in love with you and leave my independence behind for several months."
"Of which you're going to be very well compensated. Don't forget that."
"Which doesn't give you the right to try and run my life.
We're going to establish some ground rules right now.
I live my life, my way. I might be entering this farce with you, but don't expect me to toe the line.
I will try my best to pretend to be a faithful and committed 'wife,' but don't expect me to just abandon my life and my friends.
So, you'd better decide if I'm the right person for the job. "
Turning off the main road, he did his best to calm down. He was almost at the manor, and the old man had sharp eyes.
He would be able to see if they had been fighting.
"Just do your bloody part and we'll be fine," he said with gritted teeth. He did not want to admit the real reason for his anger.
Admitting that he had wanted to smash the guy's face in for daring to put his hands on her would be admitting that he had feelings for her. That would not do.
It would not do at all.
"Oh, I intend to do my part," she told him sweetly.
"I'm an actress, remember? And like you said, I'm being richly compensated. So, if I have to kiss a frog, then so be it. If I have to kiss ass, then I'm willing to do that as well."
He brought the vehicle to a stop outside a pair of sweeping electronic gates, brakes almost grinding. Hitting the clasp on the seatbelt, he released it.
Before she could move or react, he had his hand fisted in her locks, painfully jerking her head up.
Her astonished look gave him grim satisfaction.
"You, materialistic bitch."
"And you're a hypocrite!" she blazed, stung by his tone and his words.
"You're doing the same thing. Going to great lengths to get your inheritance. So, don't you sit there on your high horse and behave as if you're any better."
"It's mine." He twisted his hand and jerked her head up so that her face was inches away from his.
"That's the difference."
"You certainly didn't work for it, did you? Let go of me."
"I despise women like you."
Her eyes flashed. "I'm not a fan of men like you either."
She shoved at his chest, angry when she didn't even budge him. He was breathing hard, the anger changing as he stared at her lips.
She had coated them with shimmering ripe strawberry, and it looked good enough to eat. He wanted a taste.
He wanted it so badly, he could not think.
The hands she had settled on his chest closed into fists as she watched his expression change. Her breath caught inside her throat and helpless heat coursed through, changing the atmosphere inside the car.
Suddenly, the argument, the anger and bitterness did not matter. "No," she whispered, hating how thin and uncertain her voice sounded.
"You need a lesson," he told her hoarsely. "And I want to be the one to give it to you."
His head descended slowly, as if giving her time to retreat. Regina discovered that she was paralyzed, her body arching towards his.
His breath tasted dark and completely tempting as he lowered his head closer to hers. His mouth just brushed against hers, just a slight movement, a breath.
It took that for the passion to flare and for memories to come tumbling back.
Breaths mingled, emotions soared, passion built, and the heat... She could push him away; she was strong enough.
Or was she? She felt as weak as a kitten, as vulnerable as a child, and twice as needy.
It might be that she hadn't been with a man in more than a year, but it didn't matter the reason. Something had always clicked with Craig.
That was one of the reasons she had run, and yes, she had to admit it, she had backed away so fast, she had almost stumbled, because he made her feel, made her yearn, like now. His lips brushed at hers, capturing her small moan.
Craig tasted her, inhaled her scent, reveled in it. He wanted to devour her whole, in one fell swoop, just take and take and take.
And then he wanted to do so again. His tongue explored her full bottom lip and felt her quiver.
His grandfather was waiting and the old man didn't like tardiness. But at this moment, he didn't give a damn.
All he wanted was the time with her.
Twisting the locks of her hair around his hand, he tilted her head back and deepened the kiss. Passion exploded like lightning and had his body tightening with need.
He plundered and could die from the intense need. It had been the same between them that long time ago, the need clawing through him with sharp, jagged teeth.
And then she had left.
He became ruthless, kissing her with all the pent-up anger his memories brought on. She had hurt him, cut through his heart with a dull knife, and left him bleeding.
All he could think of was that he wanted her, wanted to feel that slim dancer's body beneath his, wanted to plunge into her until there was no room for anything else. But then he heard the call from the porch and cursed the interference.
This time she managed to push him away. Her hands were weak, hell, her limbs felt like water and her breathing was labored, but she succeeded in putting distance between them.
"I believe we're being summoned." Her voice was unsteady, but that could not be helped.
He had untangled his fingers from her hair and noticed that it was Millicent standing on the porch, her hands on her wide hips. He needed a minute or two and wasn't about to get it.
He knew he was flushed, his body so heated, he felt as if he was on fire. Fighting the desire coursing through him, he took several breaths before pushing the door open with unnecessary force.
By the time he got around to opening hers, she was already out and sailing towards the porch. He had to hurry to catch up to her.
Taking her hand and ignoring the tug to release it, he smiled at Millicent.
"We're unforgivably late. Darling, meet the love of my life," he said, hooking an arm around the housekeeper's neck.
"Millicent, meet my fiancée, Regina. Regina, meet Millicent."
Regina withstood the scrutiny from the weather-beaten black woman and summed up the fact that Craig meant the world to her.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." She smiled charmingly and extended a slender hand to be grasped firmly by a calloused one.
"Finally," the woman's smile came easily, eyes searching.
"It's about time the boy settled down. Your grandfather is pacing the floor impatiently."
"Then let's not keep him waiting any longer."