Page 10 of The Fiancée Farce
One might even say Gemma had been looking forward to this moment. But that was before, when her only plan had been to cause a little harmless havoc, crashing Tucker’s wedding because he and Madison hadn’t managed to find room on a guest list of three hundred for her. Announcing that she was engaged hadn’t been part of her plan; that was a complete improvisation.
News of her engagement had no doubt reached her father by now. Gemma wasn’t drunk, but no way was she sober enough to go toe-to-toe with Victor van Dalen.
“Why don’t you give it some thought? Sleep on it, maybe.” Gemma stole a step back, inching toward the exit.
“Where are you—you can’tleave.” Tansy’s eyes widened, the hair escaping her shoddy chignon adding to her frazzled air. “What am I supposed to tell everyone?”
Maybe the fact that her father was watching her like a hawk wasn’t the worst thing in the world. If there was one thing Gemma excelled at, it was putting on a show.
“You’re absolutely right.”
Tansy blinked, taken aback. “I am? I mean, I am.”
Gemma hummed and boldly stepped into Tansy’s space, delighting in the way Tansy’s eyes widened further, her breath catching. Gemma rested one hand on the curve of Tansy’s waist, cupping the side of her neck with the other. Everything about her was soft beneath Gemma’s hands. “It would be utterly remiss of me to leave without giving my fiancée a kiss goodbye.”
Beneath Gemma’s fingers, Tansy’s pulse fluttered wildly. Her breath quickened, chest rising and falling; her curves were concealed, hidden beneath that god-awful cardigan. Notching her thumb in the soft space beside Tansy’s jaw, Gemma angled Tansy’sface upward and leaned in, Gemma’s Jimmy Choos exaggerating the difference in their height.
As their noses brushed, Tansy’s breath blew sweetly, gusting across Gemma’s mouth. She paused, her thumb stroking the curve of Tansy’s jaw, delighting in the anticipation of the drawn-out moment before their lips touched. Clinging to her hair, her skin, was the scent of clean linen and old books. Pausing to inhale the honey sweetness of Tansy’s beeswax lip balm, she granted Tansy an opportunity to back away, to rebuff her advances. When Tansy didn’t take it, Gemma erased that final bit of distance between them, brushing a kiss against Tansy’s mouth.
Tansy’s mouth opened under Gemma’s and her hands clutched at Gemma’s shoulders, short nails biting into the bare skin of Gemma’s upper back. Before she knew what the hell she was doing, Gemma was bunching the fabric of Tansy’s cardigan in her fist, nipping at the swell of Tansy’s bottom lip, smiling like a damn fool when Tansy shivered in her arms.
Heat simmered in Gemma’s veins, warmth settling in her stomach, a dizzying sort of desperation making her light-headed as she clutched Tansy close, swaying on her heels.
She was a total fucking goner. Whatever magic Tansy was made of, Gemma wanted to drown in it, revel in the honeyed heat burning her up from the inside out. It was better than the finest bourbon she’d ever had the pleasure of sipping.
Tansy pulled away with a gasp, chest heaving against Gemma’s, and, need for breath be damned, Gemma ached for her to come back.
Fuck.All at once, reality rushed in, and with it, the realization that this girl just might be more than Gemma had bargained for.
“Think about it,” she whispered, forcing her fingers to releasetheir grip on Tansy’s sweater. She took a step back, the dregs of dizziness disappearing with distance.
Tansy’s face was flushed, her pink lips parted and kiss-swollen, her blue eyes dark beneath the amber light shining from the chandelier overhead. Gemma’s gut clenched, the urge to swoop in and press one final kiss to Tansy’s mouth almost impossible to ignore.
Almost.
Chapter Three
Think about it.
Even hours later, the ghost of Gemma’s perfume lingered in Tansy’s nose, vetiver and warm vanilla. The phantom pillow-plush press of Gemma’s kiss still burned on her lips, the tender caress of Gemma’s fingers against her jaw was baked into her brain, and an echo of Gemma’s throaty laugh rang in her ears.
As if Tansy could do anythingbutthink about it.
It was absurd, last night; entirely surreal. Quite frankly, Tansy wasn’t certain whether she had found herself at the center of an elaborate prank, some practical joke Gemma van Dalen was pulling on her family. Gate-crashing and button-pushing; sly smiles and doublespeak; Gemma’s last name—all of it set off warning bells inside Tansy’s head.
Gorgeous newspaper heiresses moonlighting as romance cover models didn’ttalkto Tansy. They sure as hell didn’t promise to get down on their knees for her, and never,everdid they kiss her breathless. They certainly didn’t propose marriage out of the blue. That sort of thing didn’t happen to Tansy. Not until last night.
“Earth to Tansy.” Katherine waved her hand in front of Tansy’s face, snapping her back to her office. She’d met with her stepmother this morning to discuss the financials and operations of BelltownBooks, same as they did the second Sunday of every month for the last six years. “Someone’s a million miles away this morning.”
Not a million. Five, give or take. She’d left her brain back in the ballroom of the Seattle Yacht Club.
Tansy raised her mug in the air, the one featuring a cheery illustration of a bookshelf, with paperback spines color-coordinated on the ceramic.
“Guess the caffeine hasn’t kicked in or something,” Tansy fibbed, wincing as she took a sip of her London Fog Tea Latte.
She was doing a lot of that lately. Fibbing.
“Or something.” Katherine removed her glasses, setting the stylish cat-eye frames atop a stack of invoice slips. “You know, I’m disappointed in you, Tansy.”
