Undertaking Love

Chapter Forty-Four




Marla followed Gabe into a deserted private room and perched on the slippery edge of a hard hospital mattress. The room smelled strongly of turps, and paint-splattered ladders were leaning against the wall, but at least they were alone. She badly wished that she was wearing something a little less cleavage revealing than the Biba dress, and that the snow hadn’t turned her hair into a wild bird’s nest.

Gabe, in contrast, looked lethal.

In theory, it should have been far easier to be around him now that she’d finally admitted to herself that she loved him. She could just fall into his arms and confess all. Job done.

So why did she feel suddenly as awkward as a tongue-tied schoolgirl?

She’d been desperate to see him for weeks, and now that he was in the same room she could barely meet his eyes, let alone profess her undying love or swoon in the hope that he’d catch her.

It didn’t help that he looked so brooding and dangerous.

If he were auditioning for Heathcliff, he’d win the role hands down.

Romeo? Not so much.

‘Nice dress.’

Marla instinctively glanced down at the low neckline to make sure she hadn’t had a Janet Jackson style wardrobe malfunction.

She knew it was her turn to speak, but it felt a little pre-emptive for ‘I love you’.

‘Thank you for driving Emily here.’

Gabe nodded and reverted back to brooding silence.

Okay. Small talk wasn’t going to work, but then in fairness he’d made that clear once this evening already.

‘So … why were you at the chapel, Gabe?’

‘I was looking for you.’

‘You were?’

He nodded. ‘I never said goodbye.’

Marla’s heart spluttered. No, no, no. Don’t say it now.

‘And I have something for you.’

He reached into his pocket and placed a white gift box with red ribbons on the bed next to Marla, and then glanced at his watch.

‘It’s five to midnight. You can open it in five minutes.’

Marla swallowed. So she had five little minutes to convince him to stay forever.

‘I have a gift for you, too.’ She licked her lips.

‘Really?’ He stepped closer, a wary flare of hope in his eyes.

She nodded. ‘Yup. You can have it in six minutes.’

Well, that should convince him to stay an extra minute, at least.

‘So what shall we do to pass the time?’ she asked.

She was completely into this game now. She had nothing to lose except him, and she wasn’t about to let that happen twice in her lifetime.

A small smile curved the corners of his mouth, and the guarded expression in his eyes cleared; he became as easy to read as A.B.C.

Or L.U.S.T, as seemed to be the case.

‘Witch.’ His hands found her waist and tugged her onto her feet.

‘Can I cast a spell over you to make to make you stay this time?’ she whispered.

His mouth was so close that she could have touched his lips with the tip of her tongue, but he didn’t kiss her. His beautiful eyes were full of questions.

‘Am I reading this wrong, Marla? Will you go back to hating me again tomorrow?’

‘I could never hate you.’ Her fingers curled around the neckline of his leather jacket in case he tried to move his warmth away from her.

‘You did a very good impression of it for a long time.’

‘I’m sorry. I was an idiot.’

Gabe nodded.

‘You’re not supposed to agree.’

He looked at his watch.

‘Thirty seconds.’

She closed her eyes as he reached out and held her face in his hands, his breath mingled with hers. Thank God. Her stomach twisted with pleasure in anticipation of his kiss.

Frustration spiked through her as his lips touched her forehead instead, before moving down to brush her closed eyelids. Her lips begged to be kissed, but it was her cheekbone that received his attentions next.

‘Fifteen seconds,’ he murmured as his tongue touched her ear, and the erotic impact made her swoon against him. He laughed softly and sank his teeth into her earlobe.

‘Ten.’

Butterfly kisses along her jaw.

This has to be it. Please, please, please … she parted her lips, but he turned her face to kiss her other ear.

‘Five.’

Her temple.

‘Four.’

Her other temple.

‘Three.’

The little space between her eyebrows.

‘Two.’

The tip of her nose.

I’m going to die if one is not my mouth.

Actually, physically, die, and then all this build up will have been for nothing.

‘One.’

The warmth of his mouth covered hers, the briefest slide of his tongue against hers for a few blissful, all too fleeting seconds.

‘Merry Christmas, Marla.’