by Anna Durand
As he began to sway his hips and shuffle his feet, a tingle swept over my skin and settled between my thighs. Though not unseemly, his movements did things to me I couldn't explain. My breasts brushed against his chest. His palm on my back and our linked hands anchored me to him, while his hips compelled mine to move, matching his rhythm. The rest of the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the soft strains of the music and the feel of this man cradling me in his brawny arms.
He bent his head to whisper in my ear. "Couldnae stop thinking about ye. All night, all morning, every second till I found ye here."
Spinning us around the floor, deftly maneuvering between other couples, he kept his mouth near my ear. The room whirled around us, blurring into an abstract painting, my focus telescoping down to our bodies united in swirling, exhilarating motion.
"Did you think about me?" he purred into my ear.
"Yes." Why the hell I said it, I had no clue. My mind had shut down, rationality a long-forgotten concept.
"Good." He pulled me into him, our bodies pressed together, my breasts mashed into his torso. "I went too far last night. I'm sorry."
"I gave you permission to kiss me. Which makes it my fault, not yours."
"You're not angry?"
"No." Lustful. Confused. Intrigued by this odd and sweetly enticing man. But not angry.
"The party's almost over," he said. "Spend the evening with me."
"What?" I drew my head back to meet his crystalline blue eyes. "I don't know you."
"Get to know me, then." His hand on my back skated upward, then back down, his fingers teasing the upper curve of my buttocks through my dress. "I want to know you. Give me the rest of tonight, please."
"I'm flying home to Michigan in the morning. Have to pack and get some sleep."
"Can't you stay an extra day?"
"Why are you so determined? We're essentially strangers."
"Been told I'm impulsive and you are the most captivating woman I've ever met." He lifted our hands to his lips, feathering a kiss across my knuckles. "When I see what I want, I donnae give up easily."
Captivating? Sounded like a line to me, the kind a player would lay on a gullible girl to get her in the sack. But something about his manner made me wonder if he might be genuine.
Doesn't matter. You're leaving the state, remember?
Movement caught my attention, and I glanced over to see Tara waving at me. She mouthed, "It's time."
I disentangled my hand from Aidan's. "The bride and groom are heading out. I have to see them off, so please excuse me. It was nice meeting you."
His mouth opened and then shut again as he tracked my journey across the dance floor away from him. I sensed his gaze on me, somehow knew he was watching, and with a great effort prevented myself from stealing one last glimpse of him.
Chapter Four
I stood beneath a tree, its branches a canopy over my head, gazing out across a glassy pond. Tara and Blake had climbed into a taxi, headed to the airport for their honeymoon trip to Hawaii. I'd stayed at the arboretum to take in the view one last time before I went back to my empty hotel room and, tomorrow, my home in Michigan. Sleep seemed unlikely tonight, since my thoughts kept circling back to a certain Scotsman who made my mouth water whether he wore a kilt or a suit.
Laying a hand on the tree trunk, I shut my eyes and relived the entirety of my acquaintance with Aidan MacTaggart. A case of mistaken identity. His hands on me. One outrageously hot kiss. And to cap it off, a dance and a plea to spend the evening with him.
"There you are."
With a yelp and a jump, I whirled on the speaker.
Aidan smiled. "Did I scare you? Sorry. I've been looking everywhere for you and finally spotted a red-haired woman in a green dress out here, looking melancholy."
Despite the ten feet or so between us, I swore I could feel the heat of his skin on mine. A sense memory from last night, I supposed. I could shake it off if he weren't here. Watching me. Looking so good.
He strode closer, narrowing the distance to an arm's length. "I was hoping for a real goodbye."
"I said goodbye."
"No," he said, "you excused yourself and told me it was nice meeting me."
Rats. He was right. But I hardly owed a virtual stranger a formal goodbye, whatever that might entail. I offered him my hand. "It was nice meeting you. Goodbye, Aidan."
He slid his hand into mine, his long fingers grazing the underside of my wrist, sending a warm current up my nerves. "I'd like to kiss you goodbye."
My pulse accelerated at the suggestion, at the vivid fantasy it inspired. "On the cheek."
"On the lips." He drew me closer until he held our joined hands to his chest. "Please. One last taste of you before you go."
I shouldn't consent to this. It was crazy. But the naughty little voice in my head whispered to me. What harm can come from another kiss?
Well, it wasn't like we could have sex right here in a public place. Stragglers from the reception loitered inside the Gingko Room, perhaps thirty feet away, with nothing but floor-to-ceiling glass between us and them. And yet, I wanted the kiss. Despite the people who might see. Despite the fact I'd never done anything like this, kissing a stranger — not once, but twice. If I said yes this time. I ought to say no.
What harm can come from it?
Anticipation chased over my skin like a delicate caress. "Okay."
He moved forward, easing me backward until the tree shielded us from the windows of the Gingko Room. My palms were clammy, my breaths short and fast. He backed me up to the tree, his body inches from mine, his hand clasping mine to his chest. His other hand cupped my cheek, his thumb rubbing across my lips. I parted them without thinking and the tip of his thumb dipped inside for a split second, just enough for the flavor of his skin to tease my senses. My eyes drifted half shut as I exhaled a long breath. My shoulders sagged, my body went limp against the tree.
Aidan swept his hand up my cheek into my hair, cradling my nape. I couldn't tear my gaze away from his, away from those sapphire eyes and the fire raging within them. Beneath my hand, his heartbeat thumped hard and fast.
"Thank you," he said in a low, rough voice.
"For what?"
"This."
His mouth brushed across mine, exciting my skin, triggering every hair on my body to shiver erect. He took my upper lip between both of his, pulling it into his mouth, licking at it with swift, light strokes. As he released my lip little by little, he shifted his hand on my nape to angle my head back. Eyes closed, I burned for more, for the passion we'd shared last night — but he only nipped at my bottom lip and swept his tongue over the seam of my lips. Without realizing what I was doing, I rocked my hips forward. My body nudged his erection, hard and big inside his slacks.
Aidan groaned, long and low, the feral sound resonating in his chest.
I thrust my free hand into his hair, clawing at his scalp, desperate to drag him in for a real kiss.
He seized both of my hands, pinning them to the tree above my head. His body pressed into mine, firm enough to hold me in place but not so forcefully I felt endangered. No, threatened was not how he made me feel. Not in the least.
For a heart-stopping moment, he stared into my eyes with a naked hunger that left me breathless. Then, just when I feared he'd changed his mind, he adjusted his hold on my hands to take both my wrists in one of his hands and skimmed his other palm down my bare arm and across my exposed shoulder to my collarbone. He danced his fingertips up my throat to my chin. With light pressure from his thumb, he urged me to open my mouth wider.
And I surrendered to him.
His hand fell to my hip, curling around it. His mouth covered mine in an open-mouth kiss, his tongue diving deep to ravish me with possessive strokes. My clitoris throbbed, and I writhed against him, rubbing my breasts over his chest, rolling my hips into his rigid cock. His erection scraped over my belly as he groaned into my mouth. The vibration o
f it shot lust through me and I ached to wrap my arms around him, to grind myself into his hard shaft, but he kept me bound to the tree with his body. A frustrated noise burst out of me. His kiss grew wilder, scorching hot, his tongue tangling with mine and our lips mashed together. A need pulsated through my sex, squeezing a whimper out of me.
Aidan peeled his mouth from mine. Breathing hard, eyes glossy, he let his head fall forward until our foreheads touched. "Let me see you again. Please."
"I live in another state."
"And I live in another country." He freed my hands, stepped back a half step, and held my face in his palms. "May I visit you sometime?"
"I guess so." The words tumbled out before I regained the ability to think clearly. Too late to take them back, but anyway, he had no idea where I lived. Besides, I wanted to see him again.
He bent to press a tender kiss to my lips. "Meant to give you a simple kiss, but I lose my mind when I touch you."
"I liked it. Both times."
Aidan reached into his pants pocket, withdrawing his cell phone. "May I have your number?"
I bit my lip as I considered my answer. Since I had only a cell phone, not a landline, he couldn't really track me down that way. Could he? And that stupid, naughty part of me wanted to hear from him. To hear his voice. Deep and sexy, telling me I was bonnie and well-spoken and captivating.
"Sure," I said, gesturing for him to give me his phone. When he did, I found the address book and typed in my number and name, then I handed the phone back to him. "There you go."
His smile melted me again — but my heart this time, not my body. He looked so adorably thrilled to have my number.
Before I could do anything else dumb and reckless, I pushed away from the tree, smoothed out my dress, and said, "Well, it's time for me to head out. Goodbye, Aidan."
He lifted my hand to his mouth and brushed his lips over my knuckles. "Till we meet again, Calli Douglas."
God, I loved the way he said my name. I muttered something unintelligible and tried to walk purposefully away from him, but I stumbled over a tree root and wound up half staggering back toward the building. Times like this, I really wished I was a drinker. At least it would give me an excuse for my behavior. My only viable excuse was that five years of self-imposed exile, five years of staying true to a false vow, had made me ripe for a freak-out. I could never have predicted what would come of doing a seemingly innocent favor for someone I'd considered a friend.
If I could've talked about it publicly — or told anyone about it, even in private — maybe I wouldn't feel quite so trapped. But I couldn't tell anyone. Not Tara. Not my brother, Gavin. Definitely not the sexy Scot who tempted me to do things I'd never imagined I was capable of doing. If he knew my secret, maybe he'd lose interest. He seemed like a decent guy. Only a total sleaze would want to be with a married woman.
Especially one guilty of marriage fraud.
Chapter Five
The next morning, as I finished packing and headed out for my flight home, I wondered what on earth had possessed me. Why had I given Aidan an invitation to call me? And worse, why had I offered to let him visit me at home? If he called, I didn't have to talk to him. Right, and I didn't have to kiss him either. Aidan MacTaggart affected me in ways I couldn't explain, couldn't control, and wasn't sure I wanted to stop. It felt too damn good.
As I dragged my wheeled suitcase toward the door of my hotel room, someone knocked.
I froze, staring at the door. Visions raced through my mind of the door bursting inward and cops flooding in with guns drawn. They'd throw me down on the floor, handcuff me, read me my rights. You're under arrest for marriage fraud, an authoritative voice would declare. I'd be hauled through the hotel. Shoved into a police car. Whisked away to jail and, eventually, prison.
Maximum sentence: five years. Maximum fine: $250,000.
I swallowed back the bile burning up my throat, surging into my mouth. You're being paranoid, I reminded myself. But I couldn't shake the cold sliver of dread wending its way through me.
A fist rapped on the door again.
Shaking my head at my own silliness, I grasped the knob and swung the door open.
My husband smiled at me. In his Croatian accent, lightened by many years in America, he said, "You requested my presence. Here I am, Calli."
Sure, I'd called him yesterday — but not to invite him to my hotel room.
I looked straight into his dark-brown eyes. "How did you find me?"
"Caller ID told me you were calling from this hotel." He leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb, and the light from within the room painted a sheen on his short black hair. "The man at the desk was kind enough to tell me in which room my wife was staying."
Rade Vukoja was my husband, technically. He could produce the marriage certificate if he wanted, since he'd kept possession of it. Most likely, the desk clerk had simply believed him, and besides, most people were trusting and Rade was charming. For two years before we married, we'd been good friends. The hardest part of all this mess was that I still liked him, though not in any romantic way.
"I asked you to call me, Rade, not show up at my door." I kept my hand on the handle of my suitcase, ready to go as soon as he left. "I have to get to the airport."
"You wanted to serve the divorce papers." He patted his chest. "Here I am."
I hissed out a sigh. "Honestly, you know I can't serve the papers myself. The law says someone unconnected to the case has to do it. That's why I sent a process server, over and over and over again. You dodged him every time."
"Yes, I do apologize for that. I have been very busy."
I glanced back at the bedside clock, seeing I had to leave in less than five minutes. "Listen, you know I have money problems and it costs me at least a hundred dollars every time the server tries to track you down. He's made six attempts in the last ninety days. Now I'll have to file for a second summons, which means more money spent on trying to serve you."
"There's a simple solution." He smiled that congenial smile, the one that made me feel like a jerk even when I was in the right. "Come live with me. I will pay your debts as I did before and help you find work."
"We've been through this how many times? You promised to give me a divorce six months after you got citizenship, and that happened over a year ago."
His steady gaze locked onto mine. "I know we entered into a marriage strictly to evade immigration laws, but I'd hoped we could find common ground and forget the divorce."
"I don't love you. Why would you want to stay married to me?" I swung the door wide, intending to squeeze past him. "Let it go, Rade. Please."
We both knew I meant more than letting me out the door. He needed to let me go, let me move on with my life.
Though he stepped aside, he laid a hand on my arm. "Please, Calli, let's talk over this divorce matter."
"We had an agreement. I honored my end. Time to honor yours."
"I don't want this divorce." He released my arm but gazed at me with a strange longing. "Please."
For a moment, I wondered if he was trying to tell me he'd developed romantic feelings for me. For five years, we'd lived apart. Before that, he'd never given the slightest hint he might feel more than friendship. He couldn't have developed a deeper attachment to me.
"You knew this was how it would end," I said as I dragged my suitcase across the threshold and shut the door. "I did you a favor and the least you could do is honor your promise. Next time I send a server, be there to accept the papers. If you really care for me at all, you'll do the right thing."
I hurried down the hall, my suitcase's wheels rumbling across the floor, and got into the elevator before Rade had time to catch up to me. As the elevator made its way to the first floor, I sagged against the wall. I'd had to go for a do-it-yourself divorce since I couldn't afford a lawyer. Yet even when Rade finally accepted the divorce papers, I had a long road ahead to free myself of my worst mistake. Marrying a guy
so he could stay in the country? That was marriage fraud. Marrying a guy I didn't love? That was hell on earth.
Sometimes I wished Rade was a creep I could hate. That might make this easier to take. But he'd always been respectful and even kind to me. Never tried to claim his husbandly rights, so to speak. He knew I didn't have those kinds of feelings for him.
Why, then, was he holding on so tightly to our phony marriage?
The elevator doors rolled open.
I wheeled my suitcase out, heading for the desk to check out, but I hesitated when the door to the stairs burst open.
Rade jogged out and made a beeline for me.
I hung my head, muttering a few choice words under my breath.
He stopped a few feet away, panting from exertion. "If you send another server, I will take delivery of the papers. However, this does not mean I accept losing you. I plan to fight for us, Calli, because I know we can be a genuine couple."
I glanced up at the ceiling, seeking divine intervention or a modicum of patience. The roof probably blocked me from reaching the heavens with my plea. "Why would you want a wife who doesn't love you? I'm not attracted to you either."
"Please." His tone of voice matched his pleading expression.
"We both know you can slow down the divorce if you want to," I said, "but you can't stop it. Eventually, it will go through. Make it easier on both of us and give up the idea of staying married. I don't want to be with a man I don't love. I've known you for seven years, Rade, and I still don't feel that way about you."
His entire body seemed to sag. His face went slack as he turned his gaze down to the floor.
"That's just the way it is," I said. "I'm sorry it's not what you want to hear."
I walked away, suitcase in tow, once again feeling like a jerk for no good reason.