no. I’ll still take the bus,” she protested.
“But what would my folks think if I drove to work and you took the bus?”
“That maybe you work late, or I work early, or…”
“I don’t think so. They’d know in a minute I’d never let my fiancée ride the bus when I could share five minutes alone with her.” He paused. “I’ve always thought being alone in a car with someone of the opposite sex is kind of…sexy. Don’t you think?”
Sunny swallowed. “Sexy?”
He gave her a sideways glance. “You know, luv. The idea of being alone, encapsulated in a moving car. Music and conversation. Sitting shoulder to shoulder.” He focused on the road, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Of course, you Americans have a phrase for it—’fast cars, fast women.”’
“I guarantee this is one woman who is not in the fast lane,” Sunny clarified. “In case you were wondering.”
An amused smile spread over his face. “I dare say that is probably for the best.”
A few moments slipped by before she realized he had intentionally hit a hot spot with her. One she’d have to address. “Speaking of parents,” she began hesitantly, “I’d just as soon keep mine out of this.”
“Oh?”
“Well, we might run into them, being in the same complex and all, and I’d just as soon not have that happen. I certainly don’t want them to know I’m posing as your girlfriend.”
“Fiancée,” he corrected.
“Whatever.” She waved her hand. “It’s enough for them to think I’m staying with a friend for a couple of weeks.”
“Okay. That’s fine with me. If that’s the way you want it.”
“I do.”
A moment later, Brett pulled off onto the side street adjacent to the apartments. Then, offering her a lopsided grin, he wheeled into the drive. Sunny clutched the armrest and pressed her shoulder blades into the bucket seat. She still slid into him.
“Don’t you just love the way a sports car takes the curves and hugs the road?” he asked drolly, letting the steering wheel spin back within his hands.
“Hugs?” she repeated, pulling herself upright. “I thought I was going to be in your lap.”
He passed the pool and clubhouse, and pulled up at the first intersection. She straightened her skirt again and unconsciously motioned for him to make a right, toward her apartment building.
“Of course, when we drive together you will need to hug me instead of the door,” he said.
“I wasn’t hugging the door,” she argued. But the truth was she had intended to leave as much space between them as possible. “And you can stop right here.”
Brett pulled into the first available parking space and threw the car into Park. He stripped his sunglasses off and tossed them on the dash. “Back to my parents again, okay? They’ll expect us to be lovey-dovey, you know. And they’ll like your proper edge, as it will make the story all the more believable. But…”
“Yes?”
“How about a kiss?” he suggested boldly, his gaze dropping possessively to her mouth. “For you may find that you can’t tolerate me. And that would be a pity, to put on a show for my mother and father, when you find me insufferable.”
“I— I never said you were insufferable.”
“Really?”
His gaze trailed over her curiously. He turned on the seat, leaning closer to her, then waited, giving her the opportunity to withdraw, to protest.
But she didn’t—and for the life of her she didn’t know why.
“Or we could say,” he whispered, his breath fanning her cheeks, “that we’ll share a kiss to seal the secret about who I really am.”
“I won’t tell,” she promised, feeling dizzy as he loomed closer.
“Mmm. Good…” His mouth first nuzzled hers. His lips, so soft and warm and tasting of tea and lemon, almost surprised her. The tip of his nose brushed against hers, and raspy stubble scraped her cheek. He smelled seductively fresh, like salt and sea air.
When Sunny involuntarily kissed him back—her mind in a muddle, her senses on overload—Brett deepened the kiss, sending earth-shattering sensations through her. Her respiration grew shallow and her heart started to pound. And behind her eyelids she saw a panorama of stars. Shooting stars. Spinning stars. Dazzling waves of stars.
Sunny’s hand went to his shoulder to steady herself, her fingers curving over the thick muscle there. His shoulders were so wide they seemed to envelop her, in a protective, supportive kind of way. Her fingertips inched upward, over the seam of his dress shirt. She discovered the warmth of his flesh above his starched collar and beneath his ear. The tip of her fingernail traced the neat edge of his haircut, the tiny hairs teasing the pad of her forefinger.
Brett flexed his shoulders, and groaned. He pulled reluctantly away, even as his mouth continued to taste hers.
Finally he broke the kiss and tipped his forehead against hers. “I do think we’ll get on,” he predicted softly. “My family should be suitably convinced that our affections are genuine. And if I didn’t know better, I’d be nearly convinced of it myself.”
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