Wear My Ring. Kate Hardy

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Wear My Ring - Kate Hardy


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      And here he was, set to make the biggest financial decision of his life, and he’d gone and entangled himself in a blonde distraction once again.

      ‘Having fun?’ Nate said, slapping Gabe on the back, rocking him back on his heels.

      A dark cloud hovering about his ears, Gabe shoved his fingers hard into the front pockets of his jeans. ‘So much so I barely know how to contain myself.’

      Nate snorted. ‘Now quickly, I have a thing in Sydney this week. A meet and greet with an upstart encryption software company. Looks schmick. I was going to send Rick, but I’m not sure that he’s as net savvy as—Gabe?’

      ‘Hmm?’ A sliver of white glinting through the crowd had snagged Gabe’s attention. ‘What now?’

      ‘I was being about as subtle as a woman in red lipstick. I’m offering you a lifeline, mate. An actual prospective client to sound out while you’re here. Thought you’d jump at the chance to sink your fangs into an actual real live deal.’

      Normally he would, but he was in a questioning type of mood, and even while Nate’s face was a picture of innocence, so far everything he’d said or done that night had screamed ulterior motive.

      ‘Unless you have other plans? More decorating perhaps? Like what you’ve done with the place so far. Very … pretty.’

      Gabe cut him a glower. ‘Considering your flair for interior design I take that as a compliment. When’s the flight?’

      ‘Daybreak tomorrow. And you’re welcome.’

      Gabe caught the glint of light on blonde hair move through the swarm and heard himself say, ‘Make it a day later and I’m there.’

      He felt Nate’s incredulous stare. Pretended he didn’t.

      Nate said, ‘Am I missing something here? I’ve had people manning the lifts at work in case you slipped out and were never heard from again—Ri-i-ight. I see.’ Nate grabbed a tiny pastry from a passing tray and threw it into his mouth. ‘So who’s the blonde?’

      Gabe breathed out long and slow. He’d been quietly concerned about the ever-decreasing degrees of separation between Paige and Nate and confirmation that Nate wasn’t a paid-up member of the ‘I Fantasise About Paige’s Legs’ club was more of a relief than he cared to admit. Gabe set his vision at the middle distance, and drawled, ‘Any blonde in particular you need me to soften up for you?’

      Nate grabbed him by the ears and turned his head the half-inch to face the blonde in question. ‘The one who has you dancing about like you have ants in your pants. The one making you think twice about getting out of bed early tomorrow.’

      Gabe swiped his hands away. ‘For starters, I don’t dance. And secondly she lives in the building and …’ She what? Wasn’t the reason why he was actually considering shucking off work? The dark cloud surrounded his whole head. ‘She all but shut the lift doors on my fingers when we first met.’

      ‘That’s it? Well, then you won’t mind if I head that way and—’

      Gabe’s hand shot out and grabbed Nate by the back of the neck.

      Nate laughed as he ducked out of Gabe’s grip. ‘Been so long since I’ve seen you even look twice at a blonde, it’s bloody reassuring. Like you’re really back. Not just here, but back. Now, seems I have to go tell poor Rick he has an early start in the morning.’

      With that, Nate headed off, leaving Gabe silenced. And shrouded in more grey clouds than ever. Of all times for Nate to slant a reference at Lydia … He’d dated blondes since her, surely? Lydia hadn’t screwed him over that much.

      Sure she’d sold their pillow talk with the competition, leading to an investigation by the Australian Securities Commission for insider trading, which had meant the near undoing of the business into which he and Nate had poured their hearts and souls, the repercussions of which had sent him careening off to all four corners of the globe in an effort to wrench BonaVenture from the grips of obliteration—

      But it wasn’t as if it affected him any more. Unless you counted the fact that he was more vigilant when it came to his business dealings. Perhaps even a little zealously so. But his dating habits were peachy. Or at least they would be once all the monkeys finally left his apartment.

      All bar one.

      Paige sensed Gabe a good second before his deep dark voice said, ‘Miss Danforth, how good of you to come.’

      She took a quick heartening gulp from her champagne, then turned and said, ‘Why, of course.’ At least she planned to. But nothing came out.

      In leather and a three-day growth Gabe Hamilton looked like a sexy pirate. In pyjama bottoms and nothing else he was every woman’s fantasy. In a cool pin-striped jacket, navy cashmere sweater, and dark jeans he looked so delectably tactile he was more dangerous than ever.

      When he leant to place a soft warm kiss on her cheek she had a fair idea of what oxygen deprivation must feel like—all breathless and weak and woozy, with a touch of delirium thrown in.

      ‘For you,’ she said, shoving the small box between them. ‘Housewarming present.’

      He took the package, his brow furrowing as he stared at it. And suddenly she felt silly for bringing anything at all.

      She flapped her hand at him. ‘On second thoughts, give it back. It so won’t go with your gorgeous new decor.’

      Pulling the gift out of her reach, he glanced up under his thick dark lashes. ‘You noticed.’

      ‘I’d be pretty sucky at my job if I didn’t. It looks great. You did good.’

      He cocked his head in thanks. Then brought her gift to his ear and gave it a little shake. ‘So long as it’s not a throw cushion I’m sure it’ll do fine.’

      All she could do was shrug, while she felt more and more sure that what was meant to be a funny little trinket was too ridiculous, too overfamiliar, too obvious he’d made an impact on her. But then she thought of the big changes he’d made to his apartment, because of her, and didn’t quite know what to think any more.

      He opened the box, a wash of surprise, bewilderment, and laughter playing over his beautiful face as he stared at the hot-pink flamingo in his big dark hands.

      ‘For your phone,’ she explained, sliding her hand to the inside pocket of his jacket, knowing that was where his ever-present phone would be. She drew it out and placed it neatly into place in the crook of the bird’s bent leg. Tilting her head for him to follow, she slipped through a gap in the crowd to put the phone holder on the kitchen bench.

      She turned and, with a ta-da move, said, ‘To keep the doughnut crumbs away.’

      Gabe blinked at the kitsch splash of pink adorning his sleek dark kitchen, then back to her. His silky dark eyes looking right into her. She knew how Lois Lane felt knowing Superman’s X-ray vision meant he could tell what colour undies she wore. She felt the same desire to hide behind something big and solid for protection.

      Waving her hand in front of her dramatically pinking face, she said, ‘It’s a silly little—’

      ‘It’s perfect,’ he said, placing a hand over his heart. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘My pleasure.’ And it was. He was. Her complete and utter pleasure. A pleasure she’d actually thought might fizzle in the glaring light of a public outing.

      The crowd jostled and she bumped against him. He gathered her with a strong arm until she was flush against his big strong front, the heat of him bleeding through her barely there dress. Again she wondered how she’d gone so long without a man in her life. Without the mouth-watering ache inside her. How? Because it had never felt like this before.

      ‘Let’s get the hell out of here,’ Gabe’s voice rumbled through her.

      Paige laughed.


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