The Right Mr. Wrong

by Natalie Anderson

  ‘No. For you...’ she paused to draw in some steel ‘...I’m fighting.’

  ‘Fighting me?’

  ‘If I have to.’ She walked around the desk.

  He leaned away slightly, letting the desk take some of his weight as he regarded her. ‘I was an idiot,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I lost my temper.’

  The smallest smile appeared on his lips. ‘I was glad you weren’t afraid to with me.’

  ‘I was afraid,’ she admitted softly. ‘That’s why I sent you away.’

  ‘It hurt.’ He barely moved as he spoke.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I deserved it. You accused me of not listening to you. And you were right, I didn’t. Not back then. Back then I was too busy trying to figure solutions on my own. It was what I was used to and I was too proud to let you in. I’m sorry about that. But last week I should have. Then you put the words in my mouth—that I wouldn’t want more from you—’

  ‘Words you’d once said.’

  ‘But it’s not only women who’re allowed to change their minds.’ The corner of his mouth curved. ‘And honestly, for me it wasn’t a change of mind, it was more a recognition of what’s been true all along.’

  Vivi’s heart was almost bursting from its speed. ‘What is it that’s true?’

  ‘That I love you. I realised I’d never actually told you. But I do.’

  ‘I never believed you felt for me as strongly.’ Her eyes filled again, this time the tears spilled.

  ‘How could I not?’ He jammed his hands into his pockets. ‘I fell so hard. I gave up everything for you.’

  ‘So did I.’

  ‘I know that now.’

  And she’d just thought he’d done it because it was a challenge. And that once he’d had what he wanted he’d got bored. She hadn’t ever realised he’d been as flipped out by it as she’d been. That he’d lost as much as she.

  She glanced at the picture and then looked back at him. ‘I’m still scared, Liam, but I’m not going to let that stop me from asking for what I want any more. And I’m asking for you to come over here.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘No?’ Her heart smashed.

  A small, rueful smile softened his mouth. ‘You know what will happen if we touch.’

  ‘Well...’ She bit her lip, relaxing a smidge as she saw that smile. ‘I was kind of counting on that.’

  ‘We’re not making the same mistake as we did then. We touch now, it’ll be all on. We have to talk this through first.’

  ‘What more do you need to know?’ She gazed at him. ‘I love you. I’ve always loved you. And it totally scares me.’

  His rigid stance melted; in a step he was there, his arms around her. ‘Okay,’ he muttered into her hair. ‘There’s nothing to be scared of now.’

  He kissed her. Kissed her the way he’d kissed her the other night. With all the love in the world, until her toes curled in the crazy high heels she’d worn specially to get tall enough to see eye to eye with him. And she kissed him back—as fervently, deeply, sweetly.

  ‘I can’t let you go now.’ He groaned. ‘You know I was going to London this afternoon.’

  She knotted her fingers into his shirt, keeping him close, and failed to answer coolly. ‘Your assistant mentioned it.’

  ‘I was coming after you. I’ve never felt so bad. Hurt. Furious with myself. I realised I’d never been honest with you either. I’d never let you in the way I should have. I never told you...so many things I should have. Especially that I was in love with you.’ He pulled her closer into his heat, a pained expression on his face. ‘I should have opened up to you all those years ago. I should have come after you.’

  ‘No. We weren’t ready. Way too young. I had baggage to get over. I had to grow a spine.’ She smiled. ‘And you had a business to build. It’s better now.’

  He bent, resting his forehead on hers. ‘I love you. Always have.’

  A feeling of utter contentment seeped into her bones, but as she leaned against him reality—logistics—bothered the bliss. ‘How are we going to make this work?’ she voiced her fears. ‘We failed so badly last time.’

  ‘No.’ He framed her face with his hands, tilting her so she had to meet his gaze head on. ‘Failure is making the same mistake twice. The first time wasn’t failure. It was merely a mistake.’

  ‘Merely?’

  ‘Merely.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘We won’t fail now. So long as you ask, I listen.’

  ‘And vice versa.’ She nibbled on her lip, clutching his shirt more tightly. She never wanted to leave him but there was no choice. ‘We can make distance work.’

  ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve had enough nights without you already. I’ve done what I can with the business here, now I’m ready to sell it on. I’m ready for the next project. That will be wherever you are.’

  Shocked, she dropped her hand and stepped back. ‘You can’t sell your business.’

  ‘I can.’ He chuckled, capturing her by the waist and moving in close again. ‘Darling, I’m bored. I need a new challenge.’ His eyes sharpened. ‘And, no, I will never get bored with you.’

  That wasn’t what she was worried about. ‘Your career matters. I won’t let you sacrifice anything for me. You’ll resent me.’

  ‘This isn’t a sacrifice. I came looking for you and as soon as I saw you again, spoke to you again—it was all over. It just took me a bit to get my head around. I’m never losing you again. You’re what matters most in my life. This time I need to give us the chance. This time I can. I can’t afford not to.’

  ‘But your business—’

  ‘What is it that matters to you—the financial security I have or me?’

  She stared at him—at the vulnerability in his eyes, the same that had been caught in that portrait. It was real. Now she understood—part of him was as afraid as she. ‘You.’ She tightened her arms around his neck. ‘You, you, you.’

  She felt the tension ebb from his body—and another kind of hardness steal in.

  ‘Then if you don’t mind risking it with an entrepreneur, you’ll be fine. I’m ready for new challenges. Business challenges. Family challenges.’ He grinned. ‘Trust me, Vivi.’

  ‘Vivi?’

  ‘That’s who you are—my Victoria, my Vivi. My life.’

  She smiled, glowing inside. Knowing, believing that he loved her the way she loved him. Suddenly she saw that the overwhelming passion wasn’t going to drown her. Their bond was so much more than sexual, it had humour, support, substance. Being with him would enhance her life, not diminish possibilities, but expand them. He’d never stifle her. And she’d never hold him back either.

  ‘If you like,’ he muttered, ‘I’ll even come with you on your three-a.m. runs with Gia.’

  ‘Actually, there’s no need.’ She grinned, feeling a sense of strength and pride rippling through her. ‘I stood up to her. Handed her a dictation machine and told her to go with the bodyguard.’

  Liam laughed and kissed her. ‘How’d she take it?’

  ‘She basically high-fived me.’ Vivi giggled. ‘But you know, there’s still a problem.’

  He looked concerned. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘My body’s used to a really tough workout in the early hours of the morning. I’m going to need some kind of activity to replace that run...something really, really energetic...’

  He bent, sweeping her into his arms, that wicked smile on his mouth. ‘You know, I think I can come up with something that might wear you out...’

  ‘When can you come up with it?’

  ‘Oh, it’s up now.’

  She chuckled at the lame innuendo, delighted in being carried off by the one true love of her life.

  Long, quiet moments later he gazed into her eyes—his own free of tension, alight with love and passion.

  ‘It was only ever you,’ he promised.

  ‘And you,’ she answered.

  Finally. Always.

  For ever.


  * * * * *

  THE WEDDING DRESS DIARIES

  Aimee Carson

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Excerpt

  ONE

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  The busty brunette behind the bar at the exclusive Manhattan restaurant was addressing the guy at the end of the counter. And, when Amber spied the man, she did a sharp double take that would surely leave her with a crick in her neck.

  Parker Robinson.

  Blinking, Amber adjusted to the sight as the sounds of Reese’s engagement party faded.

  When Parker didn’t respond, the bartender repeated, ‘Can I get you a drink?’

  Attention finally caught, Parker drew the sexy smirk like a gun from a holster. No doubt he wasn’t even aware. It was more like an automatic response, like most people would say please or thank you or mutter an excuse me when they accidentally stepped on someone’s toe.

  ‘Why, yes, you can,’ Parker said.

  The brunette puffed up her chest, clearly pleased she’d finally earned an attentive smile, and Amber resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Apparently Reese hadn’t exaggerated; her half brother’s attitude toward women hadn’t changed much since adolescence. Amber had witnessed that grin directed at girls often enough, that knowing twinkle in his eye communicating that females liked what they saw, and he knew it.

  A cocky confidence that, on Parker Robinson, was more endearing than annoying.

  The sun-streaked blond hair of his teens was now a light brown with leftover golden highlights, like keepsakes from his childhood. He still wore it tousled with soft spikes up front, and the little-boy, rough-and-tumble look totally suited him, hair begging to be tugged. Years ago she’d longed to do just that, to pull him in for a kiss. Had fantasized about him teaching her how. And while his hair hadn’t changed much, his masculine features were better defined, cheekbones and jaw now sharp enough to cut cold butter. Yet he straddled youth and maturity with an ease to be envied, that cocky teen housed in the bad-boy adult making a killer combination.

  His gaze collided with Amber’s and held, and a pit yawned wide beneath her stomach. The brilliant green eyes hadn’t faded with time. Pulse pounding, she realized, belatedly, that he’d caught her staring, and the shameful memory barreled into her. The day when he’d called her out on exactly that. But she wasn’t the besotted little preteen anymore, the one that had followed him around like an adoring puppy.

  ‘You a friend of Reese’s?’ he asked.

  Amber was proud she didn’t laugh out loud. Amazing. Ironic that the guy she’d spent every summer in the Hamptons with from the ages of seven to twelve—the guy she’d loved from the ages of eight to fifteen—didn’t even remember her.

  Though, in his defense, she’d been in the sixth grade the last time he saw her.

  In jeans and a leather jacket the color of burnt butter, Parker picked up his glass and came closer, moving with that easy earthy stroll that came with a confidence few could dream of. It had been captivating on Parker the teen.

  On Parker the man, it was absolutely breathtaking.

  He slid onto the bar stool next to hers and leaned his elbow on the counter, facing Amber. Parker cleared his throat and lowered his head a little to look up at her face—most likely a stupefied face—as if worried her lack of response meant she wasn’t completely sane.

  Parker seated this close was definitely threatening her sanity.

  ‘Are you a friend of Reese and Dylan’s?’ he repeated.

  It had been fifteen years since she’d seen him, had been close enough to touch. She gripped her glass and sipped her wine, hoping she looked more sophisticated than she felt.

  Amber managed a nod of her head. ‘I’ve known Reese a long time.’ I’ve known you a long time. ‘Why would I be at their engagement party if I didn’t know them?’

  ‘Could be a party crasher, here for the expensive food and free drinks.’

  It was surreal to be having this conversation with her childhood crush, protected by her unknown identity. Because she had plenty to be embarrassed about when it came to Parker.

  From the time Reese had asked her to handle her wedding, Amber had been dreading the moment she had to measure this man for his tux—an event that needed to occur soon. But she’d thought she could relax tonight because Reese had said Parker would never show. He hadn’t attended any of the other parties for his half sister and her fiancé. So why had he come now?

  ‘Is that why you’re here?’ she said with a smile. ‘For the free food?’

  Parker let out a bitter scoff. ‘If only.’

  He didn’t want to be here.

  The realization hit her with all the force of a sledgehammer on steroids. It fit with what Reese had told her, the man who refused to have anything to do with the Michael family anymore. Not that Amber could blame him. But ever since her engagement, his sister had been trying to pull him back into, well, if not into the fold, at least within touching distance.

  He tipped his head with an almost boyish curiosity. ‘Do I know you?’ he said, and Amber’s heart froze. ‘I definitely think I know you.’

  He pursed his lips contemplatively, and Amber wished her memory of his mouth hadn’t been so spot on. He did have the most gorgeous lips in the world. Full. Sinful. Utterly kissable. Pretty savvy of a stupid twelve-year-old to notice, if she did say so herself.

  Enjoying the rare sense of power in Parker’s presence, she sent him another smile. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘A name would be helpful,’ he said.

  Amber let out an overly thoughtful hmm, as if she were seriously considering giving him the information. But suddenly, the moment she’d been dreading, her first meeting with Parker, was more about fun than fear.

  ‘That would be too easy,’ she said.

  Parker’s understanding smile at her tone set her pulse fluttering. ‘Okay,’ he said, settling in as if for a prolonged conversation, the light in his eyes sizzling. ‘I’ll bite.’

  God, she wished he would.

  ‘Do I know you through your work?’ he said.

  Amber bit back the smile. ‘Could be,’ she said with laughter in her tone. ‘I used to be a seamstress, but now I own my own bridal shop.’

  He actually recoiled as if slapped, and the look on his face as he backpedaled made her laugh. Clearly, Parker Robinson was offended at the thought of frequenting an establishment that dealt with weddings.

  ‘Definitely not through your work,’ he said gruffly. ‘Maybe through mine?’

  Amber pretended not to know. ‘What do you do?’

  He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘I work Homicide down at the fifty-seventh precinct. Maybe I interviewed you as a witness before?’

  ‘Maybe I was once a suspect,’ she said as coolly as she could.

  The roll of his eyes, that sarcastic ‘yeah, right’ expression made her suddenly sentimental. She remembered that look from her childhood, and a small part of her was glad he hadn’t changed too much.

  ‘Do I look too innocent?’ she said.

  ‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘I just remember all my perps.’ His face grew tight, and a harsh laugh escaped his mouth, and he slid his eyes to somewhere beyond her shoulders. ‘And yeah, you look too sweet. But, trust me,’ he said with a light tone that he didn’t quite pull off. He took a sip of his drink and carefully set the glass down, his tone distant. ‘No one is as innocent as they look.’

  There was a hard set about his eyes, the crinkles at the edges more about experience than age. A bitter fatigue that had started in his teens and now was fully realized.

  That bold green gaze was back on her, intrigued. Interested. ‘Maybe we attended the same school?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Did we meet at a party once?’ he asked.

  Enjoying his frustrated curiosity,
she sipped her wine. ‘Try again.’

  His eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Well, I know we haven’t slept together,’ Parker went on, sending her stomach plummeting to her toes.

  God, only in her teenage dreams.

  ‘Because, although you’re certainly attractive,’ he said, ‘you’re definitely not my type.’

  Amber ignored the sudden surge in her pulse and maintained an even tone. ‘Is that the only reason we couldn’t have slept together?’ she said. ‘Because I’m not your type?’

  The reflexive sexy smirk lit up his face.

  And as the words finally sank in, she drew back a touch in surprise. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘What type do you think I am?’

  His gaze traveled down her body, leaving her hot in places that normally...weren’t. Her A-line dress was simple, with a classic cut. Nothing seductive. No overt ‘I’m yours for the taking’ in the way it clung to her body.

  He hiked a brow dryly. ‘You own a bridal shop, which means you believe in the institution of marriage.’

  ‘And you don’t?’ she said softly, only pretending the statement was a question.

  Sure enough, a bitter sound escaped those beautiful lips. Not that Amber could blame him.

  ‘Hell, no,’ he said.

  Heart bleeding a little for him then, she remembered the day she’d found him by the dock, devastated by his mother’s words.

  You were a mistake.

  Amber had grown up knowing she was wanted. Secure in the knowledge her parents had been devoted to each other, were devoted to her. Her dad had died when she was a child, and her mother had loved him so much she’d never remarried. And Amber’s bridal store revolved around proving that love existed every day, with every client.

  But Parker...

  Well, Parker’s experiences were opposite in every respect.

  And the boy who’d given Amber her first taste of romantic love—unrequited, but love nonetheless—had grown into a man who mocked its very existence.

  ‘You’ve made weddings your business,’ he said. ‘So, obviously you believe.’

  ‘And that’s how you’ve concluded I’m not your type?’ she said. ‘Because of the dress I’m wearing and what I do for a living?’