by Julie Leto
“You’re killing me,” he confessed.
Her eyes fluttered open, but she did not pretend innocence. “I need to pay you back for all you did for me on this trip. You made me feel very sexy. Very…desired.”
“That was my intention.”
“You definitely succeed when you put your mind to something.”
He took another swallow of Armagnac. “Here’s hoping.”
He took out the five boxes and put them on the bed.
Her eyes widened. “More?”
“It’s nothing expensive,” he assured her. “Just a little something to remember me by.”
She looked at him with mock exasperation. “A little something?”
“A few little somethings,” he conceded. “Open this one first.”
One box was long and inside was a simple silver charm bracelet. The metal sparkled against her skin and he could not resist lifting her wrist to his mouth and placing a slow, sexy kiss on her pulse point. She’d dabbed perfume there, he guessed, or else she had the most intoxicating natural scent he’d ever inhaled. He could lose himself in the heady fragrance for the rest of his life.
If she’d only give him a chance.
She broke the spell by lifting one of the tiny boxes and opening it to reveal a charm.
“This one,” he said, indicating the tiny baseball mitt, “is for Andy. It’s a first baseman’s glove. See the length of the fingers and the way they’re all stitched together? And it’s a lefty.”
She set her drink down and sat up, drawing one of her hands across her breasts as if to cover up at the mention of her son. Drew pried her hand away and took time to bathe each of her fingers in languid kisses.
“I never told you Andy was left-handed,” Annie said, her breath catching. “I noticed.”
“When?”
Her surprise was evident, but he shrugged. “We played catch one day during the move. He’s got a wicked arm. I’m surprised he’s not a pitcher, but I’m glad he’s not. They can burn out too fast at his age.” Grabbing another box—he’d had the salesperson top each box with a different colored bow so he could tell them apart—he said, “This is for Will. It’s a—”
She took the tiny charm out of the box and leaned across him to spy the jewelry in the light from the dim lamp. Her satiny lingerie scraped across his skin like a match, inflaming him so that he could hardly think. Luckily, she finished his sentence for him.
“It’s a yo-yo!”
Will, though only six, was a prodigy. Drew remembered watching the kid manipulate the toy and string for hours. He’d also helped the boy pack a collection of the vintage toys that might have rivaled a museum’s. He had wooden ones, plastic ones, glass ones—and now a silver one his mother could wear on her wrist to remind her of her son’s extraordinary talent.
She turned and looked at him with liquid eyes. “He spends every penny of his allowance on these things. Drew, this is the sweetest thing you could have done.”
“I know you love your boys, Annie. I know how important they are to you. But,” he said, picking up the third box, “there are other things that are important to you, too. Or at least, they should be.”
From the sudden frown on her face, he guessed she already knew what was inside the box before she opened it. He hadn’t had time to come up with anything particularly insightful or unique. Sometimes, you just had to surrender to the obvious—which he hoped like hell she’d do.
Wasn’t it obvious how he loved her? Worshipped her? Cared for her and her family?
“It’s a camera,” she said.
“You should take pictures again,” he said.
“I am,” she replied, hardly hesitating. “What?”
She laughed. “See, you don’t know everything about me, Drew Brighton.”
“No, I suppose I don’t. What made you start again?”
She shrugged, as if the decision to return to her old profession was a fluke or a hobby, when he knew that simply wasn’t the case. “The boys are old enough to be in school and I needed to pay the bills. I’ve sold a few shots to some local magazines. I have one or two waiting for approval at a small national publication. It’s not much, but technology has changed a lot and I’m developing a new style because of it.”
“You’ll be fantastic,” he assured her.
She frowned a little doubtfully. “I only unpacked the camera about two months ago, but it felt good to have it in my hand again. I was good, you know?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I know. Here I was hoping that this little knickknack would get you back into the business.”
“I can’t exactly travel around the world for a photograph anymore.”
“I bet the boys would love to go cool places. Schools have holidays. And you have a pilot at your beck and call. Which leads me to this…”
The fourth box was anti-climactic, but the tiny airplane made her smile nonetheless. “Is this so I won’t forget our trip?” she asked.
“This is more than just a trip,” Drew insisted, pushing the tray of drinks and jewelry boxes aside to draw her so close.
“It’s a fantasy,” she insisted, kissing along his chin. The tiny nips were like miniexplosions, each attempting to destroy his line of thinking. But he couldn’t allow it. He wanted her so much, he was certain his body would implode with need. But they were leaving in less than twelve hours. Then the craziness of the wedding would sweep them both away. He had to put his cards on the table now.
“It’s not a fantasy,” he said softly. “I’m in love with you, Annie. I have been for as long as I can remember.”
This time when she laughed, even lightly, Drew did not appreciate it. He was pouring his heart out to her. He didn’t see any humor.
He pushed her away. The move was gentle, but she was still surprised.
“Drew, you can’t be serious.”
“Why can’t I be? Because you’re old?”
She rolled entirely off the bed, the charms bouncing on the mattress. “I’m not old!”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. And for the record, I’m not young.”
“That’s debatable,” she snarled.
“Then debate me,” he challenged. He’d had enough of trying to seduce her into realizing that his feelings were real. Maybe she needed to see him at his worst before she’d realize that he was the best man to partner her for the rest of her life.
“I don’t want to fight,” she said.
“Then don’t.”
“I don’t know what you want from me.”
She assumed a combative stance—fists on her waist, hip jutting to the left.
He smoothed his hands over his hair, then settled them behind his head against the headboard. “That’s easy. I want forever.”
10
ANNIE SUDDENLY BECAME KEENLY AWARE of what she was wearing, how she was standing. She must look ridiculous, constrained by sexy lingerie and arguing with a handsome, charming, thoughtful man because he wanted a future with her and she…didn’t?
No, that wasn’t true. What woman wouldn’t want Drew? He was sexy. Considerate. Romantic. Self-supporting. And God help her, attentive. He had, after all, waited a heck of a long time to pursue her.
And yet, she couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of them being together for more than this last night in New York City. A quickie affair was one thing. But a real relationship?
Her throat was dry. She headed toward the bathroom, but Drew leaped off the bed and blocked her path.
“I want to be with you, Annie.”
She attempted to dodge around him, but her foot caught the corner of the bed and she was headed for the floor until Drew scooped her up by the waist and set her on her feet. His strong arms held her still, her back against his amazing chest.
“Stop doing that!”
“Doing what? Keeping you from falling flat on your face?”
“Trying to rescue me,” she insisted. “I’m not a damsel in distress. I didn’t need you to sweep me off on your w
hite horse to the castle in the big city. I didn’t need new gowns or a new hairstyle or to feel like…to feel like…”
Like a woman?
Drew released her. She spun around in time to see him cross his arms over his chest, emphasizing not only the massiveness of his pecs but the depth of his determination.
“I wasn’t trying to rescue you. I was trying to seduce you.”
“Well, you succeeded,” she said, straightening her corset. “Happy?”
“Not nearly.”
She glanced at the closet for her robe, but it was in the bathroom. Despite her lack of clothes, she had to stand her ground and convince him that they didn’t stand a chance. How could they?
But why couldn’t they? She was over her ex, that much was certain. But what wasn’t so written-in-stone was the condition of her heart. The very things that had attracted her to her husband had been the reasons why their marriage fell apart. What if the same happened with Drew? Could she survive another heartbreak? Could her children?
She couldn’t take the chance.
“I can’t give you anything more,” she said.
“That’s a lie,” he countered, though a chuckle in his voice betrayed that he found her denial ever-so-slightly amusing.
Well, she wasn’t trying to be funny. She was dead serious.
“I’m not ready for another relationship.”
Even she heard the lack of conviction in her voice.
“Because your husband hurt you?”
“No,” she insisted. “That’s old news.”
She moved again to walk away, but this time, Drew stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “But not an old hurt. Look, your husband was a moron. You know it. You also know that I’m not a moron. I know how spectacular you are, Annie. And I would never ignore you or your children. We’ll be a family. And at night, we’ll be a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other. Annie, I promise, I’ll take care of you.”
Her throat tightened. His eyes brimmed with complete sincerity—the kind of expression she didn’t think she’d ever seen before.
She could fill rolls and rolls of film with all the things she didn’t know about Drew Brighton. But what she did know counted for a lot. His need for her was intense and powerful, but Drew wouldn’t burn out like her ex had. Look how long he’d taken to pursue her. He was a man who simmered, stoked, flamed. And when necessary, cooled. Here she was, standing in front of him nearly naked, and his eyes held a confidence that came from deep within.
“I don’t need someone to take care of me.”
“I’m not talking about needs,” he said, his fingers now trailing up her arm, the friction barely there, and yet, she was aware of every sparking nerve ending. “What about wants? You never mention those. You have the necessities. Great kids. A great family. And soon, a great career again. But is that really enough? Do you want to go through life without someone to share yourself with?”
“I’ll find that,” she said, forcing the words out of her mouth. “Someday.”
He stepped closer. It would be so easy to lean into him, bury herself in his strength, lose herself in his…dare she think it? Love?
“Why not today?” he asked, his voice a potent whisper against the cacophony in her mind. “And don’t blame my age again because it’s a lame argument and you know it. There’s nothing a man ten years older has that I don’t. Nothing more that he can give you. I’m giving you my heart, Annie. My soul. No man can give you more.”
Annie’s lips quivered, but she’d be damned if she would cry over all he offered—all she felt obligated to resist.
She was stronger than him.
More determined.
More…alone.
She made it as far as the bathroom before the tears blinded her. A sob caught in her throat and when she paused to breathe, Drew gently wrapped his arms around her waist.
“I’m afraid,” Annie finally said, admitting the truth that had been pounding its way up from deep in her gut. Drew frightened her. Scared her to the depths of her consciousness. What he felt for her was so honest and palpable—she’d never encountered anything as powerful as love so freely given.
“I won’t hurt you,” Drew promised. “I love you. I love your children. I love your family. Hell, I’m going to be your family by Sunday night whether you like it or not. Give me a chance. Give us a chance.”
“Yes, you are going to be family,” she said, heaving in a great gulp of breath so that she could speak amid her ridiculous tears. “No matter what happens between us, we’ll always be in each other’s lives.”
He buried his nose in her hair and, though she did not think it possible, held her tighter. “I’m counting on that. And I’m counting on what happens between us being fantastic. Glorious. Worth waiting a lifetime for.”
He turned her around and grabbed a towel to wipe the tears from her face. The complete love and faith in his eyes as he dabbed at her cheeks chased the last of her doubts out of her. She had no fight left—she had no reason to fight. Drew was everything she’d always wanted in a man, but had been afraid did not exist.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” she confessed.
He chuckled. “What’s happening?”
“I’m falling in love with you, you idiot.”
This time, his laugh was deep and infectious. He pulled her close and her body melded into his. Hard to soft. Straight to curved. Male to female.
“I’m the idiot? You’re the one fighting the natural order of things, lady. I love you, Annie. I’ve loved you too long for that to ever change.”
She skewered his hair with her hands. “What if I’m not who you’ve built me up to be?”
“Impossible,” he said. “I’ve seen you at your best. And I’ve seen you at your worst, when you were trying to hold things together, moving your whole world, dealing with emotions you’ll never have to feel again.”
He kissed her long and hard, and with every thrust of his tongue, every caress of his fingers, she knew she had to be with him. Had to have him. Had to see if she had another shot at a forever love.
“This is crazy insane,” she decided.
“You don’t have enough crazy insane in your life. I want you, Annie. I don’t know what else I can do or say to convince you.”
She couldn’t think of a single thing. He’d done it all.
Well, almost all.
“You could take me back to bed.”
Bedded Bliss
1
“SO, DO YOU HAVE any big plans for the weekend?”
Mallory turned away from her computer to reach for a file folder, hiding her expression of dismay. Maybe connecting via webcam with Bianca wasn’t the best idea she’d had this morning. In fact, her store of good sense had been sparse all week. First, she’d failed to come up with a plan for luring the rock star, Brock Arsenal, to perform at the still-a-surprise-to-Bianca wedding, which was less than seventy-two hours away. Second, she’d scheduled a face-to-face call with the bride and was now struggling not to give away the secret. And third—and most shocking—she’d crazily consented to spend the weekend with Ajay Singh.
“Actually, yeah,” she replied to Bianca’s question.
Mallory had not reached thirty-two years of age without knowing quite a bit about her personal strengths and weaknesses. She was a relative loner, thanks to a lifelong battle with a phobia that made crowds hard to endure. She could speak over a half-dozen languages. She was comfortable living just about anywhere in the world, but in an attempt to avoid her former fiancé, she’d recently made Bianca’s hometown, Tampa, Florida, her base of operations.
But at this particular moment, the most important thing she knew about herself was that she was a terrible liar.
Especially to Bianca, who was an unmitigated expert in all things related to human behavior. Telling the partial truth seemed the safest way to go.
Bianca was already bouncing in her seat at the idea that Mallory planned to abandon her sanctua
ry and actually get out of the house.
“Ooh! You have plans,” she said with a squeal. “What’s his name?”
Mallory pressed her lips tightly together. Could she admit this part? Out loud?
“Ajay. Ajay Singh.”
Bianca’s eyes widened into circles of pure disbelief.
“What? You can’t!”
Mallory looked at the webcam, incredulous. This had been a difficult enough choice for her to make. She didn’t need Bianca giving her a hard time about it—especially since the whole thing was on Bianca’s behalf. Well, partially.
“He’s Coop’s boss and he’s one of my biggest clients. He invited me to spend the weekend with him.”
Bianca’s voice raised an entire octave. “A weekend?”
“Well—” Mallory tried to conjure up a believable explanation that would not reveal their covert wedding plans, but Bianca cut her off.
“Wait, an entire weekend? Are you sure Ajay said the whole weekend?”
She waved her hand casually. “He needs help on some translation project he’s working on. It’s not a big deal.”
Actually, it was a huge deal, but only because Mallory had chosen to make it so. She tried to remember the precise moment when she’d decided to seduce Ajay Singh. She figured it was right around the second time she’d caught him staring at her Tuesday night with his soulful, hypnotic jade-green eyes.
Bianca scooted closer to her laptop and glanced to the left and right, as if trying to make sure no one was within listening range. She and Coop would be heading back to Florida from Costa Rica later that afternoon, but from the background, Mallory could see they were still in their San Jose apartment. A huge window revealed the bright morning sky and the verdant slopes of the Andes in the distance.
“Any time Ajay asks a woman to spend more than twenty-four hours with him, it’s a big deal,” Bianca warned. “He’s a player, Mal. World-class. I love him like a brother, but I’ve also known him for eight years. In all that time, he’s never spent more than a night with any one woman. Even when we flew with him to Monte Carlo, he brought one girl on the plane and then had a different chick on his arm on the flight back.”