Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  God, he really was a bastard. “Why don’t you just give her what she wants? Lord knows she deserves it. You’ve been cheating on her and treating her like shit for over half her life.”

  “What the hell do you know about any of it?!”

  “I know enough,” replied Connor coolly.

  “You just think you do. Because you’re still behaving like a fanciful child. We had a marriage arrangement, clear and simple. She’s being unreasonable. Perhaps you could talk some sense into her.”

  Over his cold dead body. “Look, you’ve now wasted ten minutes of my time. Either tell me what you and Gabriella are up to or I’m going to go grab the mic and entertain the room with all the kinky shit she’s into.”

  “This is all because of that college girl, isn’t it?” hissed Marcus.

  “You dare say one negative thing about her, and this conversation is through.”

  “I’m just looking out for your best interests!”

  Since when?

  “Connor, you have a chance to be name partner.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’ve been talking with Timothy Knight from Knight and Stern.”

  “As in Gabriella’s father?”

  “Yes. Her father is interested in my partnering in their firm.”

  “Why on earth would they want you? You’ll be damaged goods once the divorce proceedings start.”

  “Regardless, I have the deep pocket clients they want.”

  “None of whom you’ll be able to take.”

  “Yes, but you can. After my ‘retirement.’”

  “Whoa, whoa. I’m not jumping ship. And even if I wanted to, I sure as hell wouldn’t jump into a new one with you.”

  “Not even for a name partnership? I’ve worked it all out. By the time I’m through, Sullivan, Knight, and Stern will be—”

  “Just stop! I’m not taking part in this scheme. If you’re going to join Knight and Stern, it’s going to be without me. And if my personal life was somehow part of this deal you’re negotiating with Timothy Knight, you better start thinking of a back-up plan because not only am I not leaving the firm, I’m not going to come within ten feet of his daughter.”

  “Because you’re in love?” sneered Marcus.

  Connor remained silent.

  “I knew it,” he spat out with contempt. “You’re chasing a girl who’s too nice to admit that she’s been in love with your brother for over a decade. Don’t you have any pride?”

  Connor felt that blow clear to his gut.

  “What’s more, your brother is in love with her too. He just hasn’t realized it yet because of everything that happened with Beth. But he will. And when he does, do you really want to be the one standing in his way?”

  Marcus did an almost believable impression of a fatherly sigh. “Your brother is a good man. He stood by his wife through an awful disease and is now raising his daughter as a widower. He and Abby are perfect for each other. They’re both family oriented, both educators. If you really believe you’re falling for this girl, stop thinking with your dick for once and do the humane thing. Nip this in the bud. She’d never survive in your world and you know it. She’s a nice girl. Let her be happy with your brother. You’ll never be able to give her the life she deserves, not the way Brian can.”

  Connor tried to get up and walk away, tried to stop listening, but he couldn’t.

  Aside from the farce of fatherly concern for Brian, nothing his father said was untrue.

  Not the least of which were his feelings for Abby.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  AT THE SOUND of the doorbell, Abby checked the clock. 9:30 p.m. There were only two people who could be standing outside of her house at this hour. And since both were well aware of her addiction to ice cream, she brought the pint she’d been working on along with her as she went to open the door.

  She really shouldn’t have.

  Because apparently, James freakin’ Bond had taken over Connor’s body.

  And she was rocking one of Brian’s old shirts and a messy half-ponytail/half-bun piled atop her head.

  “Hi, beautiful.”

  Her knees buckled.

  “So this was the pressing engagement you couldn’t break to go to the charity ball tonight?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

  “Yup. Ice cream night is a big night for me.”

  He leaned over and intercepted the spoonful she’d just scooped up. “Green tea? Right, you’re in Asia this week. Nice. So are you going to invite me in?”

  “Oh, of course. Come in. Why aren’t you at the gala?”

  “Because you’re here.” He tried to pull her in for a kiss but she grimaced and took a step back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She frowned. “You smell like perfume. And before you say it, I know you didn’t do anything, it’s still…”

  “Right. Like the kiss thing. Well, as was the case then, I was completely innocent tonight as well. Gabriella was all over me like a barnacle I couldn’t shake.”

  “Gabriella? Who’s Gabriella? I thought your date was Victoria.”

  “It’s a long story that involves my father.” He stole another spoonful. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just hang out tonight? Do you mind?”

  “Of course not.” She started clearing off all the research books on her couch.

  “Actually, while you’re doing that can I shower first? If you think this perfume is bothering you, try wearing it.” He made a face.

  “Extra towels are in the cabinet above the toilet and if you check the third shelf in the hall closet, you’ll see a bunch of Brian’s clothes. Take whatever you want.”

  Connor halted and looked back her way. “Does he do that a lot?”

  “What?”

  “Leave his clothes here?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a collection that’s been building for years. It’s mostly from the times he used to pick up Skylar after seeing Beth. He used to shower as soon as he got here to get the hospital feel off of himself.”

  “You wear a lot of his shirts.”

  She studied his hooded expression. “Because they’re comfortable. Connor, are you okay? What happened tonight?”

  “Still don’t want to talk about it,” he called out, pivoting back on track for the bathroom.

  It was a good five minutes before Abby heard any signs of life that confirmed he’d made the journey successfully.

  “Hey Abby, can you come here for a sec?”

  Walking into the wide-open bathroom, she was greeted by a sight infinitely more decadent than her ice cream.

  A wet, naked Connor sitting in her tub.

  He grinned. “Remember our first phone call?”

  She shivered at the reminder. “Yes.”

  “Come here.”

  As she took the four short steps to the tub, Connor stood up and sent sheets of hot water rippling down his body.

  Holy swizzle sticks.

  He reached over and peeled Brian’s old shirt off of her. And then skimmed her bike shorts and panties down her legs, trailing kisses across every new inch of skin he uncovered. “I’ll never get over how gorgeous you are.”

  Likewise.

  She stepped into the tub and straddled his thighs, smoothing her hands all along the hard, muscular planes of his chest and abdomen…god, touching him was an art of foreplay all on its own.

  Speaking of touching—

  She gasped. “You went snooping through my drawers.” In her head, the accusation was a whole lot more indignant. Way less breathy.

  “No bath is complete without a few toys.”

  Good lord, why did this feel a thousand times better when he was doing it?

  Feeling the sensations quickly start to build to a crest, she grabbed his hand.

  “Too strong?” he asked worriedly.

  “It’s fine,” she said, pulling the vibe out of his hands. “But it’s not you.” She slid forward, gliding her inner thighs slowly across his
erection. “I want you to make me come...inside me when I come.”

  His pale blue eyes turned dark and turbulent. “Condom.”

  Abby smiled. She liked it when he turned Neanderthal.

  As she reached over to the drawer under the sink to grab one, he swatted her behind lightly. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you having a big box of condoms just lying around your house.”

  She ripped the foil packet open with her teeth. “I bought it the same day I bought my pairs of red and white panties.”

  His grin lit up the bathroom.

  When he reached for the newly opened condom, she held it away from him. “I want to do it.”

  Slipping one hand down his body, she stroked him gently, fascinated with the feel of him under water. Getting thicker and harder. For her.

  “Abby. God. Put it on me. Now.”

  Drifting in a lusty fog, she blinked. Put what on where now?

  Then she remembered. Too late. He snatched the condom from her, slid it on, and yanked her atop his lap, all in one slick move.

  Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to her breasts, circling one sensitive nipple with his tongue before moving over to score the other with his teeth. Back and forth, he kept her on the edge, varying his attacks, all the while staring at her like a hungry predator beyond ready to devour her.

  Clutching her to him as if he’d never let her go.

  Just when she thought he meant to tease her to the point of insanity, he lifted her up by the hips and plunged her down onto him. She gave a silent scream as he began driving into her deeper and deeper, harder and faster.

  All she could do was match him thrust for thrust and hold on for dear orgasm as she felt the first waves of pulsing hot pleasure come crashing down on her.

  Wrapping both arms around her, encasing her in a whole body restraint, he thrust into her one, two, three more times, before following her into oblivion with a fierce, primitive shudder.

  * * * * *

  EVEN DAYS LATER, Abby was still replaying that bath with Connor. In fact, that’s exactly how he had lured her back over to his house last night.

  Two words: jet tub. And she’d been sold.

  “So, you’re still insistent on the dancing tonight, huh?” Connor snuck up behind her and slipped his arms around her.

  Abby leaned back against him and made sure her smile was as bright as possible. “Yep. I got a new dress and everything.” Well, not new. But new to her. And so gorgeous—flouncy skirt, sleek bodice, and shimmery black all around. It was her last night with Connor, and she was determined to go out in style, to make one final shining, sparkling memory.

  Big and bright enough to possibly, hopefully eclipse the pain.

  Connor sighed. “Fine. I’ll be back at seven for our date. And I meant it about you staying here to do your research all day today. Skylar’s going to be at her friend’s this afternoon so you don’t have any good excuse not to.”

  “And in case you get hungry...” he added quietly, “I got you a few avocados. They’re in the pantry.” He came to a full stop at the door and gave her a long, lost look filled with emotions she couldn’t face. Not now. Not without breaking.

  Don’t look at me like that. Don’t make me think about what tomorrow is.

  Thankfully, he read her closed look and left without another word.

  Unable to help herself, as soon as she heard his car leave, she went straight to the kitchen pantry. And nearly cried when she saw the mesh bag filled with twenty or so avocados.

  God, this was going to be the most depressing date in history if she didn’t get a grip.

  With the most calming breath she could muster, she went over to her laptop and research notes, making sure only to take out what she needed. She didn’t want to accidentally leave something here that she’d have to come back for.

  She didn’t want to be that girl.

  She worked nonstop for an hour...and wrote exactly one sentence. All the words on the page were gibberish, her mind a mess. By lunch, she gave up completely.

  Wandering upstairs in search of a distraction, the sight of her new dress was the only thing that effectively held her attention. It was so pretty. She didn’t have anything else like it in her closet.

  With no rhyme or reason whatsoever, Abby stripped down then and slipped the dress on. God, it was stunning. Elegant. Staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror, she hardly recognized the woman looking back at her.

  The woman that Connor would be leaving come morning without a goodbye.

  Had it not been for the loud chime of the doorbell echoing throughout the house, there’s no way Abby would have been able to hold in the tears another second.

  She quickly ran to the front door with the cocktail dress still on, store tag swishing.

  “Hi, can I help you?” she asked the pretty woman standing impatiently out on the porch.

  The woman just rolled her eyes and made to move past her to get into the house.

  Abby blocked her way and attempted to remain civil. “Look lady, I’m not sure what you’re selling, but we’re not interested in any in-home demonstrations today.” Okay, so maybe not civil.

  The stacked redhead scoffed and looked down her obviously manufactured nose at her. “Please, don’t act like you live here. I just need to get my purse. I left it here the other night when Connor and I…well, you know.”

  Liar! Abby struggled to keep a lid on her temper. She detested women like this. “I’ll make sure to tell Connor you stopped by. He’ll find a way to get it back to you if it is here.” Yes, and hold your breath while you’re waiting.

  “So high and mighty,” snarled the woman, crossing her arms over her artificially inflated fun bags. “Don’t think I don’t know all about you. You’re the little teacher Connor is banging this month. The one he’s finishing up with.”

  No. There was no way Connor could’ve talked about her to this horrible woman.

  The woman laughed at her stricken expression. “Oh, don’t worry. He’ll finish out the month. You know him, always one to fulfill his obligations. Especially his ‘needy projects.’” She perched one perfectly French-manicured hand on her hip. “And when he’s done with you, he’ll come back to me.”

  “You’re dreaming.” Connor would never break his rule in that way. Especially not for a woman like this.

  “No, you’re the one dreaming if you think Connor’s going to make your little Cinderella fantasies come true. If you don’t believe me, ask him about the marriage arrangement his father is ironing out with my father as we speak.” She ran a condescending gaze up and down Abby’s frame. “Connor needs a trophy wife. And clearly, you’re the furthest thing from a prize for a man like him.”

  Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she stalked off to her Porsche. “In a way, I’m actually glad he’s slumming it for his last fling. It’ll make him that much more appreciative when he’s finally with me. So thanks for that.”

  Abby stood there, frozen in place. Unable to get her feet to move. Once in her car, the woman slid the driver’s side window down and yelled out, “By the way, nice dress. Though it looked way better on me before I donated it to the thrift store…probably because it actually fit me.”

  With that, she drove off the property and Abby had to grip the doorframe for support. She felt like vomiting. Never had anyone been so intentionally cruel to her before. The awful woman’s words clung to her like a web of venom, numbed her, made breathing next to impossible.

  “Abby? Abby, what’s wrong!”

  A dozen beautiful red roses scattered across the doorstep at her feet.

  Blinking slowly, Abby realized Connor was standing there holding her up, helping her back in the house.

  How long had she been standing out there?

  * * * * *

  “ABBY, HONEY? Talk to me. What happened?” Connor was officially freaking the hell out. He’d come home for lunch to surprise Abby with flowers when he saw her white as a ghost
on the front porch looking ready to faint.

  “Are you feeling sick? Do you need me to take you to the ER?”

  Abby shook her head.

  He exhaled in relief. “Did something happen today?”

  Slowly, very slowly, the color returned to Abby’s face, and became replaced by…fury?

  “That horrible woman! How could you ever have been with someone that vile?”

  Shit. This did not sound good.

  She picked up the flowy skirt of her dress, looked at it sadly, and then proceeded to rip the stretchy dress up off her body. “How can you live like this, Connor? These people…” She flung the dress on the ground and stared at it.

  He couldn’t tell if she was still sad or just plain livid now. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on. Did someone come by?”

  She laughed bitterly. “Oh, just some woman who said you two had sex recently. I believe she referred to herself as your future wife.”

  What?! Once wasn’t enough. “What?!” his mouth echoed his brain.

  “Tall redhead in a Porsche? The one who called me the cheap, fat pity project keeping you warm for her, before your upcoming feature-page nuptials.”

  “That goddamn bitch!” he shouted. “That’s Gabriella, the woman who was all over me at the charity ball.” Rushing over to Abby, he swept her up in his arms. “I am so sorry she did that to you. You can’t believe a single noxious thing she said. She’s working with my father on some harebrained scheme.” He rested his forehead against hers. “She hurt you to get to me. And I’m so sorry for that, baby. So, so sorry.”

  Abby sagged against him. “I keep telling you to stop apologizing for these people. They’re the ones at fault, not you.”

  But I’m the one dragging you into all this.

  He kissed both her eyelids gently, thankful she hadn’t wasted any tears on a whack-job like Gabriella. But the lines of strain on her face worried him.

  This is exactly what he’d been afraid of.

  Abby didn’t belong with him. She was too good. Too nice. His world would undoubtedly kill her spirit, break her down and scrape away everything that was so special about her.

  His father was right.