Tempt Me, Taste Me, Touch Me - Bella Andre Page 0,1

her reflections. "The minute I saw this ring I knew it would look perfect on you, Carolyn. And I was right."

A silent "as always" hung in the air between them.

Carrie looked up from the blindingly gorgeous jewel. James was better looking than any other man she'd ever met, let alone dated. Too bad his smug grin seemed to say marriage proposals were only a formality for a catch like him.

And why did he insist on calling her Carolyn when he knew she much preferred Carrie? She'd always thought it was charming, the way he was so formal, but now she wondered if it was simply a way to change her into his image of perfection. For her to be the perfect addition to his already perfect life. On paper, James was Prince Charming come to life. His staggering wealth and his Harvard MBA, combined with his classic blond, blue-eyed good looks put him at the top of any list of eligible bachelors. One of her residential landscaping clients had set them up, and Carrie had been shocked, and terribly pleased, that he'd wanted to see her again. On their second date, he'd hired a classical quartet from the San Francisco symphony to serenade her with Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet Overture. For the next two years he'd showered her with gifts and weekend trips to Paris.

And yet. : . something was missing. None of her other lovers had treated her like a porcelain doll in bed. At first, she'd felt cherished when James had insisted on taking things slow. But as the weeks had rolled into months, she couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with her, if she wasn't sexy enough to drive her boyfriend wild.

She felt like she was seeing the real James for the first time.

Even though she hadn't agreed to marry him yet, he'd already closed the deal.

Ring, check. Fiancee gaping at size of diamond, check. Now all he had to do was iron out the details. "We will use Grace Cathedral for the wedding, of course.

Mummy will have a word with the pastor for us. They're quite close, you know. The Olympic Club for the reception. And then-" "James," Carrie said, trying to stop the train before it picked up enough speed to smash into a brick wall. And flattened them both. "Carrigans have always honeymooned in Bora-Bora, so of course you can spend a month on the beach while I play golf." Carrie cleared her throat and tried to steel her nerves. Could this be any more awkward? Somehow, some way, she needed to avoid a scene. "James;' she tried again, "maybe we should discuss this at your-"

But James had already clicked open his cell phone and speed dialed darling Mummy. "Guess which greatlooking San Francisco couple just got better-looking thanks to a two-hundred thousand-dollar diamond?" Agnes's grating squeal came through the earpiece, and something inside Carrie snapped in two. It was one thing to deal with the idea of waking up next to a gorgeous man who didn't really listen to her every day for the rest of her life, but the thought of having to do Sunday brunch with his mother fifty-two times a year (not to mention countless family dinners and parties) was truly vile.

She could no longer avoid the horrible truth: She didn't love James after all. She couldn't marry him. She was going to have to give the four-carat ring back.

And just like that, the fairy-tale love story she'd been trying so desperately to hold on to shattered into a million pieces.

"No!" she shouted, yanking the beautiful ring off her finger.

Well, she should have yanked it, but she couldn't. It was too beautiful. Instead, she slowly slid it off, fighting back tears at the thought of willingly giving up such beauty. Even if it was the right thing to do. Could she help it if turning down six-figure engagement rings made her a little weepy and shallow? She tried to hand it to him across the table, but he was still holding the cell phone to his ear and frowning at her. Before she could close her fist back around it, the ring dropped onto the table. It bounced off the pristine white tablecloth and rolled beneath the stiletto heel of the woman sitting at the table beside them, who looked to have undergone one face-lift too many.

Clearly irritated with her, James said, "Sorry, Mummy. I'll have to call you back;' then scooted back his chair to retrieve