Fool Me Once

by Karly Lane

  Michael watched his stepfather holding court. As usual his opinions dominated the conversation and no one else would get a chance to disagree. They could try of course, but they’d just be talked over. Some things never changed.

  He hadn’t realised how much having Georgie and his mother meet meant to him until tonight. He’d always thought when he introduced her it would be as Georgie Delacourt. He’d almost done it. For one crazy moment he’d considered it. At least then everything would be out in the open at last. Georgie would be furious, but she wouldn’t have been able to continue to hide their marriage like some dirty secret. Of course, it would have probably pissed her off more and ended any hope he’d had of them working things out.

  He sat back in his chair and looked across at Georgie. He had to get through to her before this wedding was over because he knew he’d never get another chance. If they could have some time alone—just the two of them—to reconnect, he knew she’d rediscover those feelings that had drawn them together in the first place. They were still there. She still had the power to bring him to his knees with one look. She was his future, and that was worth fighting for.

  Eighteen

  Having said goodnight to Shannon, Georgie headed for the elevator.

  Bed. Just the thought of it almost made her weep in relief. Her feet ached, the champagne had made her drowsy and she wanted to forget all about Michael and his arrogant stepfather.

  As the doors began to slide shut, a large hand appeared, forcing them to spring back open again. Georgie groaned as she caught sight of the body attached to the arm. Was there no escaping this man?

  ‘Going up?’ he asked cheerfully, grinning at her groan of dismay.

  Inside the elevator, the shiny chrome and glass glared brightly, too brightly for her tired eyes, and the ride up to the room in its small confines seemed excruciatingly long.

  ‘Do you think you can stand up while I unlock the door?’ he asked, having taken her elbow to guide her along the hallway.

  Georgie sent him a baleful glare. ‘I’m hardly legless.’

  The fact that the floor was rolling like one of those weird tilt-a-whirls at the show was completely beside the point.

  Inside the room it was blissfully cool and quiet and as she sank down onto the sofa and slipped off her heels, she couldn’t contain the moan of relief that escaped her lips. Falling back against the soft cushions of the sofa, she wriggled her toes blissfully. She looked up and noticed Michael remained standing by the doorway watching her.

  She closed her eyes. She was too tired to deal with him now. ‘I don’t think my feet will ever be the same again after tonight,’ she groaned.

  Beside her, the cushion dipped and before she had time to open her eyes her feet were lifted and placed sideways across a warm, inviting lap.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she gasped as two strong hands encased her feet and began to rub them in a manner that stilled further protests and drew out a long, deep moan of contentment.

  ‘Feel good?’ His low voice sounded like the rumble of an approaching thunderstorm, with an intensity to match.

  ‘Oh my God. So good,’ she murmured as his strong hands worked their magic on her aching feet. Okay, maybe she could deal with him if he was going to do this.

  While she didn’t doze, her body did relax and the tension she’d carried around all day evaporated. It took a moment to realise that his hands had moved from her feet to her calves—the effect was like a bucket of iced water over her head.

  Swinging her legs from his lap, she placed them back on the floor, feeling more than a little flustered and suddenly quite sober.

  ‘Ah, thank you … that was …’ Her words petered out as she realised she had no idea how to respond to such an intimate gesture and still keep her dignity intact.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said softly, and she could feel his gaze searching her face once again.

  Her flighty gaze darted about the room in search of something to force the conversation back to neutral ground. ‘Ah. A bar fridge.’

  ‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough for one night?’

  ‘No.’ Selecting a small bottle at random, she searched for a glass then decided to drink straight from the bottle instead. She was a grown woman and could do whatever the hell she liked. She didn’t need Michael Delacourt, with his perfect teeth and his perfect smile and his perfect bloody body … for a moment she forgot what she was angry about, before a quick glance at his perfect brow frowning in disapproval at the bottle in her hand reminded her. How dare he sit there and scowl at her? Who the hell was he to judge?

  Turning away from him, she tipped the bottle to her lips. A burning like she had never experienced before ran down her throat, making her gasp and cough and splutter. Tears flowed from her eyes and her nose began to run. Fumbling to put the bottle back on the kitchenette bench, she groped for a tissue, gratefully accepting a glass of water offered from over her shoulder.

  ‘Seasoned Scotch drinker, I see, Georgie,’ he drawled sarcastically.

  Once the coughing subsided, she blew her nose and went into the bathroom to wash her face.

  The reflection in the mirror made her grimace: red nose, watery eyes and tousled hair. She dragged off her clothes and turned to start the shower. The thought of standing beneath the spray of water and letting the water wash over her was too attractive to resist. She reached for the soap and swore softly as it jumped from her hands like a slippery fish. She performed a brief drunken juggling act as she attempted to catch it before it fell to the floor. Too tired to bother bending down, she left it there, resting her head against the tiles, letting the warm water massage her tired body. It was so relaxing she almost fell asleep.

  A knock on the shower screen startled her.

  ‘I was worried you’d fallen asleep.’

  Spinning around, she lost her footing as she trod on the small rectangular bar of complimentary soap. Her gasp was cut short as the door was yanked open and two strong arms reached in to grab hold of her.

  Shock, distress and something that caused a slight prickling sensation, not altogether unpleasant, flooded her instantaneously.

  They stood there, Georgie naked and wet under the stream of hot water, and Michael, shirtsleeves rolled up to expose muscular forearms, his soaked shirt clinging to his chest. He seemed oblivious to the fact he was standing under a shower fully dressed.

  The steam circled them, weaving about their bodies seductively, enfolding them in a world where only the two of them existed.

  Michael’s eyes darkened and his lips lowered towards hers.

  The touch of his mouth sent a ripple of longing through her body. As if of their own accord, her arms circled his neck and he stepped into the shower stall, dragging her wet, sleek body, tight against his own. The kiss seemed to go on forever, igniting a cinder inside her she’d thought long dead.

  The clothing melted from his body, although she did recall later that her fingers had been eagerly helping undo buttons.

  Her hands wandered across broad shoulders and down a flat stomach. A gasp of surprise escaped her lips as he gently pushed her back against the cold tiles of the shower.

  His hands were flat against the shower wall on either side of her head and his hard body, so achingly familiar, slid with delicious torture against her own.

  ‘I want you, Georgie,’ he whispered in a husky voice close to her ear.

  God help me, she thought desperately. The sound of his voice sent a thrill of desire through her body. Her hands fluttered lower, across his abdomen, drawing a rugged hiss of desire from his lips.

  Catching her face in his hands, he turned her head to look at him. His eyes bore deeply into her own, forcing her to see him and acknowledge what they were about to do. Holding his penetrating gaze, so dark and heavy with need, she forced her mind to cooperate with her mouth—so hard to do when the man was distracting her with the hard length of his body pressed tightly against her own.

  ‘Is this what you w
ant too?’ he asked, and his voice sounded tight with need.

  Georgie couldn’t make her mouth work at first but managed a jerky nod. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. She’d tried to fight it, but there was no point in denying the obvious truth. She wanted him very badly.

  Slowly, deliberately, he entered her. His uneven breathing matched hers, and for a moment they savoured the feeling until blatant, urgent need overshadowed the desire, and she clung to his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his waist tightly as he carried her back to a time when everything had been perfect.

  Georgie opened her eyes, and saw glorious sunshine pouring in through the window across from her massive bed. She stretched, feeling the crisp white sheets against her smooth naked body … and froze mid-stretch … naked body? She never slept naked.

  In a rush, it all came back to her: steam and wet kisses on hot skin …

  Scooting up against the headboard, Georgie scanned the room, searching for other clues. Surely it had all been a dream?

  The tangled mess of the sheets and the damp towels on the floor were indisputable proof otherwise.

  Slamming her eyes shut in mortification, she recalled just how much of a willing participant she’d been in the whole escapade.

  Michael.

  She wondered where he was. The bed was empty beside her—only a small indent in the crisp white of the pillow showed anyone had even been there at all and there was no sound of him outside.

  Gingerly she slid from the bed, her muscles feeling tight and well used and she felt a flutter of excitement as she recalled the reason behind that. Gathering the clothes hanging in her wardrobe, and wrapping a towel securely around her, she headed for the shower.

  A quick glance around the main living area confirmed she was alone. Her shoes from the night before had been lined up neatly beside the bedroom door, and the glasses they’d used were drying on the small sink in the kitchenette.

  Closing the bathroom door behind her, she reached into the shower stall and turned on the taps, adjusting the water temperature until it was warm enough to step beneath. Images of last night began to replay in her mind but she forced them away as she lathered the soap across her body and washed her hair. Turning her face into the spray of water, she allowed it to cleanse the remaining dregs of sleep and passion, clearing her head. It was the day before the wedding and she was going to need to focus.

  As Georgie was dressing, her phone’s ringtone echoed throughout the quiet suite and she ran for her handbag, still sitting where she’d left it on the coffee table in the other room. Digging through the bag, she pulled out her mobile and answered, sounding more than a little breathless.

  ‘Where are you?’ Shannon’s amused voice greeted her with only the slightest hint of stress colouring her tone.

  ‘I’m on my way down … where are you?’

  ‘We’re in the dining room, waiting for you to get down here so we can eat breakfast. Hurry up, we’re all starving.’

  ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘Michael, Brent and me … Hurry up!’

  ‘Okay, okay, keep your hair on, I’ll be down in five.’

  They disconnected the call and Georgie took a deep calming breath. Well, at least she didn’t have to face Michael alone in the cold, harsh light of day … just in front of her best friend and a crowded dining room.

  Michael reached for his coffee as he listened to Shannon talking to Georgie on the phone. He bit back a grin. He’d been doing that all morning, ever since he’d woken up with Georgie sleeping beside him. He’d been too scared to move at first, he didn’t want to wake her and face the regret he might see in her eyes. He knew her well enough to realise she’d fight what had happened between them last night, but at least he knew now that it was there—the chemistry that’d drawn them together in the first place. There was no way she could look him in the eye and deny she still had feelings for him. That’s all he’d needed to know. While those feelings remained, there was a chance they could salvage this marriage.

  ‘She’s on her way,’ Shannon informed them needlessly. ‘She picked a great day to sleep in.’

  ‘It’s still early, there’s plenty of time to get everything done,’ Brent soothed his jittery bride. Nothing ever fazed Brent.

  Michael’s gut clenched as he spotted Georgie walking into the room. He wished he had a few more minutes to hold on to the memory of last night when she’d been the Georgie he remembered: sultry, sexy and needing him … Then she was there in front of him and his heart hit his chest at her nervous glance. He was still so in love with this woman. They had to make this work. He wasn’t sure he could survive losing her again.

  Nineteen

  Pushing through the large doors of the dining room, Georgie took a moment to scan the tables before Shannon, waving her arms like a lunatic, drew her and a few other gazes to their table.

  It never ceased to amaze her how easily Shannon could light up a room. It was almost as though she possessed some kind of magnetic field that attracted people to her. She still couldn’t believe a man had finally been able to curb her party-girl ways and make an honest woman of her—and to think both she and Michael had been witness to the event. Who would have thought going to a B&S ball, in what was supposed to be a last hurrah to their misguided youth, had been the turning point of Shannon’s life … and the biggest mistake of hers.

  Coming to a stop before the table, she nervously thanked Michael as he moved her seat out and waited for her to sit down. If there was one thing the brothers had in bucket-loads, it was manners. They were always opening doors: car doors, front doors, shower doors—no door was safe.

  ‘Sleep well?’ he asked in a deep tone that reminded her of a lion’s purr.

  Ignoring the blush that she felt beginning to touch her cheeks, she smiled, not quite meeting his eyes. ‘Great thanks, you?’

  ‘Unbelievably well.’

  Clearing her throat, she toyed with the cutlery before Shannon eagerly suggested they eat. Rising to her feet quickly, she was forced to wait until Michael moved aside to allow her to pass. With a resigned sigh, she lifted her eyes to meet his deep blue gaze, telling herself the sooner she faced him, the sooner it would be over.

  ‘We need to talk tonight, Georgie,’ he said, his eyes holding hers.

  ‘We have nothing to talk about.’ Although she continued to smile, her eyes glittered with conviction. ‘Unless you want to finally do the right thing,’ she added with a touch of sarcasm.

  He lowered his head to a mere inch above hers, blocking out the noisy breakfast diners surrounding them. ‘Tonight.’

  Her breath lodged in her chest as she waited for his mouth to touch her own. Then the moment was gone, and he moved away without fulfilling the longing that had suddenly flared inside her at the thought of kissing him.

  When he moved away to join the others at the buffet table, she noticed her hands were shaking and she took a deep, calming breath. It would be over very soon. One more day.

  Thankfully, the day was so busy and fun filled that she was able to push all thought of Michael to the back of her mind. Shannon’s mother and aunties joined them for a morning at the spa where they were pampered with massages, pedicures, facials and champagne. Although Georgie declined the champagne—last night was still too fresh in her mind and stomach to face it again so soon—she had a fabulous day and couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed and smiled so much.

  She’d missed these people. They were good, salt of the earth folk who loved the land as much as she did, and they knew how to live it up when the opportunity arose.

  The night before the wedding, Shannon and Brent bowed to tradition and decided to spend it separately. Much to Georgie’s relief, it gave her the opportunity to avoid Michael, so she happily grabbed her clothes to have a sleepover in Shannon’s room.

  They attended a brief dinner with Shannon’s family in a nearby restaurant. It was a relaxed affair and perfect for calming the last-minute wedding jitters that both bride and groom s
eemed to be succumbing to.

  There was a tearful farewell at the lift, when the two groups split in different directions, and Georgie couldn’t help but laugh and shake her head as Shannon clung desperately to her groom.

  ‘You’ll be seeing him tomorrow, now let the poor man get some sleep, he’s going to need all his strength for the wedding night,’ Georgie said.

  Kicking off their shoes back in the room, the women collapsed onto the bed.

  ‘I know I’m a big sook, but I can’t help it, I just love him so much. I hate being apart from him.’

  Georgie gave a dramatic eye roll. ‘You’re hopeless.’ She softened it with a smile. ‘But it’s great to see you so happy.’

  ‘It was the best thing we ever did, going to that B&S, wasn’t it,’ Shannon sighed.

  Georgie didn’t answer but flashed a small smile.

  A loud beep from her handbag announced a message had arrived and she dragged herself from the bed to read it.

  Michael’s name appeared next to the message notice. She read the text quickly before tossing the phone back into her bag.

  ‘Who was that?’ Shannon asked, looking as energetic as a starfish in the middle of the bed.

  ‘Just a message from Matt, letting me know all is fine back at home,’ she lied.

  ‘So, anything going on there with you two?’

  Georgie gave a small chuckle and wrinkled her nose. ‘Between Matt and me?’

  ‘Yeah, why is that so hard to imagine? He’s not bad looking, has a killer body, worships the ground you walk on … and lives with you.’

  ‘He doesn’t live with me, he has his own cottage on the farm, and no, there is nothing going on there, he’s just my foreman.’