by Linda Engman
“Roman, no one is going to see us down here,” she complained.
“Exactly. This is for me,” he said roughly, pulling her to him as he placed her hands behind his neck and linked his own behind the small of her back. The caress of a tropical breeze floated across the bare skin of her naked back and arms, while gentle waves lapped at the hem of her wedding dress. He tucked her up against him, fitting her snuggly against his hard length. All the fight went out of her replaced with a hidden longing she hadn’t expected. Speechless, she looked up at him as he lowered his firm mouth onto hers. His kiss was surprisingly gentle at first, almost loving, before it deepened into something urgent, bordering on dangerously wild. She sank into him as he pulled her up even tighter against him in a rough fashion. Their tongues greedily slipped against one another as he drew hers into his mouth, showing her a decisively naughty way of kissing she’d never thought existed. For April, it was one of the most romantic, sexily-passionate, and heart-stopping moments she’d ever experienced.
And the most confusing.
With soft moonlight overhead, the feel of tranquil waters at her feet, and the sounds of music and guests ringing in the New Year, she guessed any woman would get swept away—especially when someone like Roman Vasquez was kissing them like there was no tomorrow.
Any woman. She was another woman in the long line that had come before her, and she wasn’t the last in the line, either. She pulled back and decided she had enough for one night.
“Roman…stop,” she pleaded, moaning involuntarily as he trailed his warm lips over her sensitive neck. He ignored her completely and continued his passionate onslaught, taking little love nips with his teeth on her neck and earlobe.
“Baby, I’ve been dying to do this all night,” he ground out, pushing the strap of her dress away with his fingers to leave a string of teasing kisses across the silky skin of her delicate boned shoulder. “Damn, you taste so good.”
His raspy spoken words almost swayed her. “Is that all for tonight? I’d like to go pack and leave if that’s all right with you. I don’t think your mother expects newlyweds to stay here tonight,” she whispered, fighting her addiction to his touch.
At the bland tone in her voice, he pulled back to gaze down at her. In the faint light that spilled from the moon overhead, she saw him clench his jaw, while his eyes narrowed. He swallowed hard and seemed to be fighting to keep himself from contradicting her. He also looked absolutely wounded.
Who would have guessed? Although, come to think of it, it is the guy’s birthday after all. Great. Now I feel like a total jerk. Ugh. This contract-marriage thing is harder than I thought it was going to be.
She pushed away the onslaught of guilt and felt his body stiffen before he pulled his arms from around her. “Yeah, all right. If that’s what you want…we’ll leave. I’ll call the pilot and tell him to get the plane ready,” he murmured, his voice holding a kicked-in-the-guts quality to it.
“We don’t have to fly home tonight. If you want to stay longer, then—”
“No,” he refuted quietly, walking to their shoes and bending to gather them. “Go pack and I’ll make our excuses.”
She flinched from the coldness in his voice and snatched her sandals from his hands before dashing past him up the beach and across the lawn, slipping by the crowds of merry wedding and New Year’s Eve celebrants, to enter the house through a side entrance. Once in her room, she closed the door and leaned against it. She was shaking and felt close to tears. More than close, as they suddenly started to cascade down her cheeks with the force of a waterfall. She wiped at them with the back of her hand.
He hadn’t played by the rules.
Wearily, she pushed herself off the door and gently stripped off her dress. She dried the wet hem with a towel and carefully folded the gown before packing it in tissue. With that done, she put on a fresh pair of lacy sheer black panties and matching bra. Opting for the tiny fitted black summer dress she’d brought with her, she slipped it on and guessed she could change into her winter things on the plane later. After gliding her feet into a pair of black strappy heels, she finished packing her toiletries and clothes.
With her one suitcase closed and fully packed, along with matching garment bag, she looked around the room once more, hearing the party noises still coming from down below. She moved over to the window and glanced down. Outside, the New Year had begun, and everyone was in a spectacular mood. Champagne flowed, and the wedding guests were having a fabulous time dancing the night away under the moon and glittering stars.
She couldn’t help it, but more hot tears flowed from her. Tonight should have been special; shared with a man who adored her, loved her, and cherished her. Not with a man who considered marriage as a business deal.
Do I want tonight to be real? Do I want to fall in love with Roman Vasquez?
Absolutely not.
Maybe.
I have no idea.
She wiped her face delicately with a tissue and told herself to stop being such a wuss. She needed to face reality. The man was impossibly good looking, and any woman with red blood would want to jump into bed with him—her included—but where would that get her? She deserved the whole package. Love, marriage, and the family she always dreamed of having. Getting involved with him would only be bad news, a big mistake, and seriously doomed.
Her own smart-ass thoughts from the other night—pre-wedding contract debacle—flashed in her mind.
From now on, my life is all about a new year, new apartment, and hopefully a new man. A guy who is normal and down to earth, thoughtful, kind, understanding, who wants nothing but a relationship that’s equal on every level. Fun, too. Absolutely, the guy has to be fun. And if he’s totally hot and good in bed—that will definitely be a plus in my life…
More than depressed, she grabbed another tissue and blew her nose, then went and splashed her face with cold water, glad she was alone and not crying in front of him like a total ninny. She did a quick repair of her makeup and tossed her toiletries bag into her suitcase. Finally she plunked herself down on the bed and sighed heavily, adding in an extra hiccup-cry for good measure.
The only silver lining in her sad mixed-up life was the fact she was at least helping a lot of people with this deal she’d made.
A quiet knock sounded on her door, and she went and opened it to find him standing outside, also changed from his suit into a more casual outfit of a black T-shirt and faded jeans. She handed him her bags and took one last glance around the room before following him downstairs.
Outside they were barraged with guests tossing birdseed and wishing them well as they continued to play the part of newlyweds.
They drove in silence to the airport, both solemn and reserved compared to how they’d been on the trip out a little over twenty-four hours ago. At the airstrip Roman parked next to his jet, ushering her into the sleek aircraft as he tossed her bags in the plane’s bedroom, before going to speak with the pilot as he had done before they’d taken off in New York.
April buckled up and looked out at the twinkling Miami skyline. Tonight had been magical, and no matter what, she would never forget how special his family had made her feel. Pulling her gaze away from the view, she wiped a reluctant tear from her cheek and told herself that tonight was over. Tomorrow was coming soon enough, and the reality was this thing between her and Roman was pure business.
Even if her feelings toward him were now forever changed.
She felt the powerful jet engines come to life, and at the same time he made his way back through the cabin toward her. She avoided his eyes and instead concentrated on fishing out a magazine from her handbag. With a flourish she opened it and propped it in front of her face, hoping he would get the hint and leave her alone for the rest of the flight home.
He swore under his breath in Spanish, but she ignored him, continuing to fake-read her magazine. The powerful jet engines pushed the plane down the runway and up into the air, rocketing away from the ground in mere
seconds. Her breath was labored and she forced herself to concentrate on a fashion layout in the magazine, the sparkling diamonds on her left hand, and anything else in order to distract her from the fact they were headed straight up into the air and banking a hard right at the same time.
“April?”
She glanced across the aisle to Roman and saw only heartwarming concern on his handsome face. “I’m all right. I’ll be better when we level off, though,” she said shakily.
He reached across and held out his hand, then waited patiently until she placed hers in his warm, comforting grasp. With his touch, she found herself relaxing instantly.
“You know you’ll have to get used to flying in the jet. I travel a lot. I’m sure you’ll get used to it the more you do it,” he spoke softly and with a low tone.
Mesmerized by his touch, she had to work to make her brain form a response. “I doubt I’ll fly with you after tonight. Although I have six weeks of vacation to use, I thought I’d save it for a trip to France. I always wanted to go and stay in Paris and then see the wine country. Actually, Emily thought she might like to join me,” she spoke, realizing he’d become very still and silent.
He reflected on her answer. “Yeah…guess you’re right.”
She noticed a tightening around his mouth as he slowly released her hand. “Sorry, I was rambling on,” she apologized, yawning suddenly with a shiver. “Roman, is there a blanket I could use—”
“Of course.” He quickly cut her off and undid his seat belt. “I’m sorry, April. You must be worn out. If you like, you can go in the back and sleep and I’ll wake you when we reach New York,” he suggested, impatience echoing through his voice.
“That sounds great,” she whispered, frustrated by his ever-changing attitude.
“I’ll get some extra blankets for you too.”
She undid her seat belt and rose to follow him into the back cabin of the plane. She kicked off her heels and glanced around nervously. He was standing so near, she felt surrounded by him no matter where she moved in the minuscule cabin.
He reached up above the bed and retrieved an extra blanket from an overhead compartment before pulling back the comforter. “Climb in and I’ll cover you up. It’s cold back here,” he ordered.
“Really, I can cover myself up,” she protested, wishing he would just leave her alone.
“In!” he barked. “Or I’ll throw you in myself!”
“All right, all right,” she seethed. “You don’t have to act like a Neanderthal.”
“Lady, you make me feel like a Neanderthal every time I look at you!”
With that remark, she hopped into the bed and looked up at him with wide eyes. Angrily he dumped the covers down on top of her and tossed the extra blanket on top of her besides. “Don’t worry. An army of men couldn’t get me to break Section Eight of the contract!”
“Good! See you when we get to New York,” she snapped, rolling over and turning away from him before he had a chance to reply.
She heard him pound out of the tiny sleeping cabin, the door slamming behind him.
With a long sigh of regret, she wondered what made her act so horribly toward him. She’d never treated anyone like that, or even thought she was capable of doing so. But with him it was as if another person was living inside of her. If she wanted to be truthful, it had been like that from the very moment she had laid eyes on him. In short, the man made her totally crazy.
Resolved to forget the heart-stirring feelings he evoked in her, she decided to sleep instead. After barely getting any shut-eye the night before, and the long day she had gone through, it only took seconds for her to drift off into a deep slumber, helped along by the drumming noise of the jet engines.
She slept heavily, until sometime during the night when she woke to a warm touch on her cheek and the far-off sound of a deep gruff voice calling her name. Reluctant to open her eyes, she instead pushed the hand away and heard the voice chuckle softly.
“April, we’ll be landing soon. You need to be in a seat and buckled before we land,” Roman again interrupted her coma-like rest.
With a long moan, she opened her eyes and looked directly up into his. Her first thought was how sinfully sexy his brown eyes were. Like seriously dreamy hot. Without thinking, she realized she’d told him that very thought—instead of only thinking it.
With a look of smug arrogance, he grinned down at her. “All my women tell me that,” he whispered, laughing at her sleepy admission. “Come on, time to buckle up.”
In one swoop, he bent down and swept her out of the bed and into his arms. He carried her effortlessly back out into the main cabin and lowered her gently onto one of the double seats, buckling her safety belt securely before taking the seat next to hers. Embarrassed at having spoken her private thoughts, she avoided his eyes. Instead she glanced out sleepily to the glittering New York skyline, with its massive bridges and distinctive skyscrapers highlighted like towers of sparkling diamonds against the night sky. Within minutes they were on the ground, and Roman quickly undid his belt, then hers.
Without a word he wrapped his heavy winter coat around her flimsy sundress, once again scooping her into his arms. Mindless to the snow and cold, he held her close to his hard warm body, carrying her out of the jet and down the steps to a waiting four-wheel-drive vehicle. The same man who’d met them at takeoff on Friday—a member of the ground crew, she guessed—stood silently at the SUV, holding the passenger door while Roman deposited her inside and secured her seat belt. She watched sleepily as he briefly conversed with the man before walking around to join her in the driver’s seat.
She sat, stunned by the fast descent, exit, and rapid speed and ease which he traveled. She loved the way he could take a trip with minimal fuss or trouble. Everything was timed to the last second, fast, efficient, and effortless.
With heavy eyes, she finally gave in and buried herself into the comforting warmth of his coat, where sleep overtook her instantly.
****
Roman glanced over to the beautiful creature sitting across from him in the SUV and felt his heart flinch with pain. It was New Year’s Day, his thirty-fifth birthday, not to mention his wedding night, and the woman with whom he had exchanged solemn vows a scant few hours ago, was currently sound asleep.
He had no one to blame but himself. He’d insisted she sign that damned contract. He should have known she would uphold and honor it to the very last detail. Did he really expect anything less from Miss April Sutton, the legal assistant he’d come to lust over for the last six months? In all that time she hadn’t once batted an eye at him, shown him any interest whatsoever, or even dished out one tantalizing smile to him.
F’in anyway. What the hell made me think a little detail like marriage was going to change her attitude toward me?
Tonight he’d gotten carried away with the whole damned romantic setting and how downright sexy she looked. Instead of rehearsed kisses and forced looks of sappy love, he’d found himself actually feeling like a groom as he sincerely complimented her, kissed her, held her, and outright flirted with her. Besides that, there was the surge of white-hot jealously he felt each time another guy looked at her. He also found himself wanting to be at her side, near her, touching her constantly, with a protective fierceness that shocked him.
And what idiotic idea made me think it would be a good idea to win her over?
That definitely hadn’t been the plan when he asked her to marry him. Everything was supposed to be cut and dried and by the book. But tonight he’d been unable to control his mind or body when it came to her. So where did that leave him now?
Confused beyond belief…and horny as all get-out.
The hell with Section Eight.
Totally pissed, he worked to concentrate on the snowy roads and tried to convince himself he wasn’t the least bothered by her attitude. He was Roman Vasquez, and he’d had a life before she wormed her way into it. He would be better off remembering that and the reason she was sitting acro
ss from him tonight.
It was a business deal. Pure and simple. Nothing more.
He worked to keep his sanity and refocus his attention on the snow-laden roads leading into the city, yet his gaze was helplessly drawn back to her time and again. To the female who happened to be snuggling down in her seat to resume her sleep. He liked the idea she was safely wrapped in his sheepskin coat. He knew it was crazy to feel this way—besides also being a kind of primitive male satisfaction thing—but he couldn’t help it. There was something about her that made him want to take care of her. He couldn’t understand it. Some things simply couldn’t be explained, and his feelings toward her were one of those things. It had been that way from the very first minute he saw her approaching him across the room. Days, weeks, months, he’d fought those feelings.
By the looks of things, he would have to continue on that same path. She’d made it painfully clear over the past few days, at the wedding tonight, and then again on the plane as she spoke of her plans to travel, that she didn’t want or need him in her life.
Isn’t this is what I wanted all along: no emotions, no commitments, no attachments?
Helpless.
He felt totally helpless to resist what was slowly overtaking him. It was pure male greed mixed with overwhelming need; the need to actually share his life with someone. A need he’d never experienced before.
He glanced at her again. Another ragged knife pierced his heart. This time, it twisted painfully.
Chapter Twelve
Drifting snowflakes.
April snuggled down into the luxurious bedding, blinking in an attempt to wake.
Snow?
She blinked again, opened her eyes wide, and looked straight above her. From the cozy warmth of her bed she could see a flurry of snow as it swirled aimlessly, wafting down to earth, which made no sense to her. Her bed at home positively did not have a skylight above it.