Undeniable Bachelor (Bachelor Tower Series Book 3)

by Ruth Cardello

  “Brice, what are you doing here?” My hand flies to my heart to keep it from thudding out of my chest.

  “Waiting for you.”

  My head is spinning. Tears are filling my eyes. Is it possible? “You’re the man Jana sent me to meet?”

  I wanted it to be him more than I will ever admit.

  He steps closer. “Depends, did she mention how good-looking he’d be?”

  I sniff and decide to give him a little shit. “She told me to look beyond his flaws because he has a good personality.”

  He steps closer still. “You’ve always been good at keeping me humble.”

  We stand for a long moment, simply looking into each other’s eyes. God, it’s good to see him again. It has to be said, so I do. “Sorry I didn’t call you back. I had things I needed to work through.”

  “I know. I understood.”

  In my fantasy version of this meeting, I fly into his arms, pull his mouth to mine, and everything else fades away—unimportant in the face of our passion. Instead, I simply stand here, trying to think of what else to say. Although our lives temporarily overlapped, we haven’t exactly been friends. What were we? What are we now?

  He searches my face. Is he asking himself the same questions?

  I clasp my hands in front of me. “How did you convince Jana to set up this meeting? She was anti both of us the last time I spoke to her.”

  “I told her why I wanted to see you. She’s a sucker for a romantic story.”

  My breath catches in my throat. Exciting as it sounds, if Brice is back for sex, for the chance of being my first, I’ll have to say no again. If the last few months have shown me anything, it’s that I want more, and he is already too difficult to forget.

  He offers me his hand. “Walk with me?”

  I take his hand and we begin to walk side by side. That simple touch is all it takes for my body to warm to him. I have to be careful. I don’t need Jana to remind me that settling for less than what I need will not get me the life I want. I know I can captain my own ship. He needs to know that as well. “I have a job, Brice.”

  “You do?” He doesn’t sound surprised.

  “It’s a small child advocacy center. Nonprofit. I answer the phones. It doesn’t pay much, but I feel good helping people.”

  He smiles down at me, and I bask in the open approval in his eyes. “I can see you in that job. You’re a natural at knowing what people need.”

  I scoff at the praise. “I don’t know about that, but I’m learning. I’m taking classes at BU, just general ones for now, but I’d like to get a degree in child psychology. Children don’t choose the situations they end up in. And it makes them angry, rough on the outside. Some people dismiss them as damaged. Like being a victim of something somehow makes them less worthy of being loved. I’ve been there. I know the pain, but I also know a path out of it. I’m a survivor, Brice. I can say that proudly now. I’m not ashamed of my journey, and I understand I’m just as deserving of love as anyone else. That’s what I want to learn how to show children.”

  He stops, and his hand tightens on mine. “You are easily the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

  I look away and blush. “You’re just saying that because you know why I went to Jana. I should tell you, I’ve come up with a better plan.”

  He tips my chin up so my eyes once again meet his. “She didn’t tell me what you went to her for or what your first plan was. Isn’t it time you tell me?”

  I could lie, but that would mean I’m embarrassed by my journey, and I am not. If I hadn’t sought out Jana, I wouldn’t have come to Boston. If I hadn’t come to Boston, I wouldn’t have rediscovered my dreams. So, regardless of how it turned out, I don’t regret a penny of what I paid Jana. I take a deep breath before speaking. “Jana specializes in helping women improve their situations. No two plans are the same, but mine included removing the barriers that were standing between me and happiness.”

  His jaw tightens. “Did one of those barriers happen to be your virginity?”

  I refuse to be ashamed of my inexperience or my desire to shed it. Refuse. I hold his gaze. “That was part of it. She’s not a matchmaker. I wasn’t looking for a relationship. I wanted the confidence that would follow that step. What she promised was a selection of safe men I could choose to make that happen with.”

  His eyes burn down into mine. “And did you? Did you take that step?”

  What will he do if I say yes? There is a temptation to see what will happen. I don’t want him to be here to be with a virgin. I want him to want me.

  He takes my silence as my answer. “I hate the idea of you with another man. Hate it. I’ve had partners before you.” He caresses my cheek. “Just none since. It changes nothing beyond that I need to know if he was kind to you.”

  I believe him, and it brings tears to my eyes. I don’t know why Brice is back, but I can no longer deny that—crazy as it sounds—I love this man. “I didn’t go through with it, Brice. Not via Jana. Not on my own. I thought virginity was holding me back, and that sex would liberate me, but I freed myself. I want my first time to be with someone I love.” This is where it gets tricky. “And who loves me.”

  He places his hands on my hips and pulls me a little closer. “I have a gift for you.”

  Is he referring to himself? My mouth goes dry. I just told him I’m no longer interested in losing my virginity to a man. I want more. I should pull away, but I melt against him. I can’t function when I’m this close to him. Eventually, I say, “I haven’t seen you in two months.”

  He rests his forehead on mine. Our breaths mingle. “I had business that required my attention. And I knew you needed time.”

  “I did.”

  “Do you trust me, Savannah?”

  A delightful fire spreads through me. I shudder against him. Right now I’m not sure I trust me, but there’s no way I’m saying that. “I think so.” He frowns. “I’m like sixty-five percent sure I do.”

  “Looks like I have some work to do.” His mouth lowers to mine.

  Nothing ever felt more like coming home. My body flows into his. My arms wind around his neck. Our tongues circle each other like lovers reuniting.

  When he raises his head, he says, “I want to introduce you to my parents.”

  I freeze. “Your parents.”

  “And my brother and my sister.”

  I sway a little. I thought he might ask me to lunch. Possibly a romantic date. I must be hearing him wrong.

  “Call your job and tell them you need time off to travel.”

  “Travel? Wait, where are your parents?”

  “They’re in Calvadria. I’m not a US citizen. Is that a deal breaker?”

  “Stop the bus. I can’t fly anywhere. I don’t have a passport.”

  “I’ll have one for you by the time we take off. Just say you’ll come.”

  A battle wages in me. Things like this don’t happen to me. Men don’t swoop in and offer to fly me home to meet their families.

  Brice isn’t like any man I’ve ever known.

  And I want this to be real so badly I ache.

  But can it be?

  I love this crazy, impulsive man. If I were writing my own story, this is exactly how it would go. The problem is, life very rarely works out the way I think it should. To say yes, I need to believe something like this is possible.

  For me.

  “You’ll want to tell Claire and Ronda you’ll be out of town.”

  Of course he knows about them. I would be scared if being in his arms didn’t feel so damn delicious. “Have you had someone watching me?”

  He kisses his way up my jaw and growls into my ear, “I protect what’s mine.”

  A hot shiver passes through me. My sex is wet and eager. I’m a tangle of a modern woman’s protest that I belong to no one and a primal need. I want to be his. I want this. We can talk about how he words it later.

  I push out of his arms and rub my hands over my face. I need to think, a
nd that’s not possible while my body is practically hyperventilating with desire. Stop. Breathe. “Why? Why do you want me to meet your family?”

  His eyes fill with amusement. “Isn’t it obvious? I love you, Savannah. I think I fell for you the night you camped out in my office. I knew then I’d never be the same.”

  I sway on my feet. “Say it again.”

  He pulls me slowly back into his arms, resting me against his bulging cock. “Which part?”

  “All of it.”

  He laughs. “I love you, Savannah Barre. Every side of you. I love your brave spirit, your strength. I love your loyalty, your humor, even the way you call me on my shit. I left because I didn’t want to hold you back, but I’ve missed you every damn day. I know we’ll have things to sort out, but we’ll do it—together. Just say yes.”

  I search his face. All I see is love. I throw my arms around his neck and say, “I love you too. It doesn’t make sense. It wasn’t part of Jana’s plan. It isn’t part of mine, but I missed you every damn day too. I wasn’t ready for you when we met, but I’m ready now.”

  I go up onto my tiptoes. His head lowers. Our mouths meet in the middle. I whisper, “Yes” between our kisses. Yes, yes, holy fuck, yes.

  After we reluctantly end the kiss, we walk—or float, I’m not sure—out of the park. Charles is standing beside a car. I can’t look him in the eye. I’m sure I look just as sex-crazed as I feel. Thankfully after greeting me, he doesn’t say more.

  I don’t know where we’re going, and I should care, but all that matters is Brice is back. I run my hand up his muscular thigh and love how his nostrils flare and he inhales sharply. Is it possible that I affect him the way he does me?

  He puts his hand over mine and stills it. “Easy, Savannah. I want to do this right.”

  Me too. Oh, God, me too.

  I want to do it right now.

  “Remember that present?” he asks in a husky voice.

  My eyes fall to his crotch. His present is bulging against the front of his pants. I’m okay with calling his cock a present. We do need to lose Chucky, though.

  He laughs. “Eyes up here, princess.”

  I lift my eyes to his. He’s laughing, but in a way that makes it feel like we’re sharing a sexy joke. He lifts a box off the floor and hands it to me.

  I take it onto my lap. It’s heavy and not at all where I thought this was going. “You really brought me a gift? You didn’t have to.”

  “Open it, Savannah.”

  I tear back the paper. The box gives no hint at what it contains. I pull back the flap and begin to remove the packing.

  My jaw falls open. It can’t be.

  I run my hands over the clock. “My clock. How did you find it?”

  “Jimmy had it. He knew you’d want it back one day.”

  Now I’m crying. Like ugly crying. This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.

  Brice lifts me, clock and all, onto his lap and wraps his arms around me. “I hope all those tears mean you like it.”

  I put the clock aside and kiss him with everything I have. I kiss him the way I wanted to that first day in the elevator, with the intensity of a woman who thought she’d lost him forever, and the love of one who realizes this just might be it.

  This infuriating.

  Intoxicating.

  Undeniable man.

  Being with him required a leap of faith I wasn’t capable of a few months earlier, but he came back to me. I’m not about to lose him twice.

  “We’re here,” Charles announces.

  Brice breaks off the kiss.

  I’m shattered.

  Dazed.

  Ready to follow him off a cliff if that’s where he leads me.

  He sets me down and we both catch our breath. “Before we go any further, there’s something I should tell you.”

  My stomach twists. “Are you married?” Please don’t be married.

  “No.” He chuckles and kisses me. “But I hope to be in the near future.”

  A part of me sinks. Is it too much to believe I can feel this kind of passion for a man who doesn’t already have someone else?

  He raises my chin. “To you, princess.”

  “Don’t call me princess,” I say absently. Wait, he wants to marry me? Holy shit. Did he just say that?

  He traces the one side of my neck. “You don’t like the term?”

  “It’s a little condescending,” I say in a breathy voice. “I could get used to it, though.” The man did just say he could picture marrying me. None of this might seem like a good idea later, but I’m all in.

  He chuckles and caresses the skin exposed by the gaping neckline of my shirt, playing with the button holding it closed. “Glad to hear that. I feel like I have to be clear about where this is going because taking you home will be considered a declaration to my family. I want to make sure you’re sure.”

  “About?” Does the ability to concentrate return after sex? I sure hope so.

  His eyes fill with laughter again. The bastard knows exactly what he’s doing to me. “The part about you and me possibly spending forever together.”

  I almost agree with that, since his rock-hard cock is pressing so intimately against me—how can I be expected to pay attention to anything else—but his ego doesn’t need that added boost. I slide off his lap and take several gulps of air. When my eyes meet his again, I’m serious. “That’s a big step. And fast.”

  He takes my hand in his. “Savannah, I’ve spent the last two months telling myself that what I feel couldn’t have been real. I didn’t believe in love, much less love at first sight. Or should I say smell.”

  I swat his thigh. “That’s not nice.”

  He laughs. “I’m an ass. I know. But I’m an ass who can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

  I’m trying to remain at least a little cautious. When I allow myself to believe this is real, I have to face that going forward with it will change things. “I like my job. I like helping people. I have friends now, and I’m taking classes. I won’t give that up.”

  “We’ll figure it out. I can work in Boston. We’ll have to travel, but we can make it work, Savannah. I don’t want to take you away from your journey, I want to go on it with you.”

  I look past him to the jet on the airfield and run a hand over my hair. “I can’t meet your family like this.”

  “There’s a washroom onboard as well as a change of clothing for you.”

  My eyes round then I put a hand on one hip. “Hang on. You were that sure I’d say yes?”

  He kisses my lips gently. “That hopeful.”

  He’s smooth.

  Charles opens the car door. I have to say something to him. “Hey, Chucky.”

  “Hi, princess,” he says and winks.

  I blush down to my toes. Did he hear everything we said? Talk about embarrassing. “He’s taking me home to meet his parents.”

  “They will adore you,” Charles assures me.

  We walk up the steps of the jet. Charles stays behind. “You’re not coming?” I ask.

  “Not this time, princess,” Brice says. “But you’ll see him again soon.”

  I’m really going to have to talk to Brice about not calling me that. “Why . . .?” I meet Brice’s eyes again and the question dies on my lips. “Oh.”

  Forget about desk sex. I’m about seventy-five percent sure I’m about to have jet sex. Brice offers me his hand. I take it and beam a smile at him. His smile is a decadent promise.

  Correction . . . I am one hundred percent sure I’m going to love flying.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Brice

  I lived a wild life. Before Savannah, I would say that anticipation, the kind that makes your heart thud in your chest and your senses hyper sensitive, was no longer something I was capable of.

  I had threesomes.

  Hell, I had foursomes.

  Savannah isn’t my first virgin, although it’s been years. I prefer to be remembere
d as a woman’s best rather than her first. Women with less experience tend to see sex as a more emotional experience than I ever found it.

  I settle myself into a seat beside Savannah and ask her if she’s okay. She shoots me a bright, brave smile and says she is.

  My ability to speak fades away.

  There is no staff on this flight. Just the pilots and the two of us. I ensured privacy in case—well, in case what I want ends up what she wants as well. She’s given me all the signs that it is, even said she loves me.

  Let that sink in for a minute. She said she loves me and instead of sending me running, it has me flying high even before the jet takes off.

  Is this what’s best for her, though?

  I’m taking her home to meet my parents. I know how I feel and she said how she feels. This is us stepping forward together.

  As easy as it would be to give in to how I feel, we need to talk first. There are things I need to know. The door to the jet closes and we begin to taxi down the runway.

  Her hand clenches the arm of her chair. She’s nervous. I’d rather die a slow death than rush her into something she’s not ready for. She needs to know that as well. I put my hand over hers. “Savannah, nothing will happen between us until you’re ready for it to. We have forever. I can wait.”

  Eyes wide, she turns to meet my gaze. “Sorry. I’m freaking out a little bit. I’ve never flown before, and I thought it would be exciting, but now I’m not so sure.”

  I pry her hand off the armrest and lace my fingers with hers. I know how to get her to relax. I give her my most charming smile and say, “The first time you do anything is scary. That’s why it’s best to fly with an experienced pilot. A very, very talented and experienced pilot with a solid track record of ensuring a quality landing for all.”

  Humor replaces some of her fear. “Really? And just how much experience should I look for in a pilot? And is it important that I know about how many flights he’s successfully flown?”

  She’s good. “Simply knowing that one is qualified is sufficient.”

  We leave the ground and her hand tightens on mine.

  I lean over and speak softly into her ear. “The trick is to enjoy every part of the experience. That feeling in your stomach as we rise up through the clouds? For me, it’s a sensation that means I’m headed off somewhere wonderful. Look out the window.”