‘Tara, any news from home, or anything else you want to share with me, I’m here for you, querida.’
He looked so concerned. And it was like drinking an elixir. She reached out and cupped his cheek, kissed his lips.
‘I know, Michael. I know. And truly, truly, I will tell you everything. We’ll fix this together. Just not today. Not on Angelica’s special day.’ She had to have his mouth then. Had to feel the force of his love around her. ‘Do you think anyone would miss you for ten minutes?’
‘Tara, I think they’re surprised I’ve not disappeared before now. But we promised we would talk. We should talk.’ He gripped her face and took her mouth. ‘But I can’t get enough of you. I’ll never have enough of you.’
She felt almost overwhelmed by the force of his kiss. But she gave it right back.
‘Tara, I love you. I haven’t told you yet.’
‘You didn’t need to. I can see it. I can feel it. You’ve wrapped me up in it. I love you too, by the way.’
He laughed and showered her face with more kisses. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. But we still need to agree who’s the boss.’
‘No contest. You are.’
She grinned. ‘Really? Really?’
He grinned back. ‘Well, unless you step out of line. Then I might have to get physical.’
He kissed her in between each word. Pushed her back down on the bed.
‘This kind of physical I can deal with. As long as you know that I’m still going to be the boss.’
The pull of their mutual desire was huge. It had been building for all these months and she had to let it take over. Had to be imprinted on him, had to breathe his air and learn his body all over again.
She flipped round, lifted her skirts past her thighs and straddled him. He lay back on the bed, undid his trousers and pulled out his hot, heavy erection. She shifted her tiny pants to the side as it stiffened in her hand. Looked at him. He reached up to her face, cupped it the way she liked him to. She turned her head and kissed his palm—and then they could wait no longer. He filled her. She filled him. Love and passion in balance.
‘I only want this. Only this. You and me. For ever.’
He touched her, made love to her, and she knew then that every last demon was exorcised. She had no need to defend herself. No need to fight. No need to fear. He turned her round, slipped his arms under her and held her close while he rocked them both to their peak. And when they finally lay together, entwined in hot limbs and breath and happiness, she whispered her love to him over and over.
A total connection. A total partnership. Totally true.
EPILOGUE
By the time the last of the models had done her final turn Tara was ready to make the trek herself. She linked arms with Fernanda, and Angelica, her most special guest. Angelica’s agreement to model some of her new bridal collection had been the total icing on the wedding cake after the media furore generated by her first bridal design. The plans she had begun to sketch for her own dress were still strictly private, and even though she now shared everything with Michael this was one design he would only see on the day itself—in six months’ time.
She smiled at her girlfriends. What a team.
Fernanda was easily the most marketable model she’d ever known: a darling with the press and muse of one of the most famous French fashion houses. And all of that fitted in with her studies, just to be sensible. Angelica’s new role with UNICEF was keeping her very busy, but Tara was sure there would be other more personal news she would be sharing soon. There was no way her waist had thickened like that by itself.
Some terrifying people had attended today, but the immediate reaction had been positive and the knot in her stomach had loosened and shifted. She squeezed her amigas, stepped forward and paused.
Polite applause and raucous cheers. And there in the front row was her darling, her Michael. Easily the most handsome man in the room, and putting his charm to good use sitting beside one of the most formidable fashionistas, who looked actually—happy!
She stepped out, keeping pace as best she could with the long-limbed beauties. And as Michael’s eyes caught hers, as they always did and always would, the euphoria she felt at her success was redoubled by the knowledge of his pride and their love. She winked at him and he beamed right back.
She toured past him, down and back up. He was with her every step of the way, showing the world and, more importantly, showing her that even though he still preferred to dress like a boring banker, as she called it, he could appreciate her art and her creativity.
Which was just as well because, oh, yes, she thought, she was the boss. But later she hoped he would get as physical as possible—just to keep her guessing.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from ALL'S FAIR IN LUST & WAR by Amber Page
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ONE
Becky was engrossed in the dreary task of sorting through her inbox, attempting to make sense of the three hundred and fifty-seven emails that had accumulated while she was in Vegas, when a cardboard coffee cup was slammed down on her desk.
“One venti dark roast with a splash of vanilla soy milk,” Jessie said. “Just the way you like it.”
Becky looked up and grinned at her redheaded friend.
“Aw, thanks, Jessie. You didn’t have to do that.”
Jessie shrugged her coat off, threw it on the visitor’s chair, then collapsed at her desk.
“It’s bribery. Now, spill.”
“Spill? You want me to spill this delicious coffee?”
Jessie threw her rainbow-colored scarf at her. “Don’t be an idiot. You know what I want to know. What happened after you texted me Saturday night? Were you able to prove to yourself that your libido isn’t dead?”
Becky blushed. “It’s alive and kicking,” she said. “And very insistent.”
“Woo-hoo! My girl scored! I knew you could do it!” Jessie said, grinning. “Now, tell me the juicy bits.”
Becky shook her head. “A lady never kisses and tells,” she said, laughing.
“Give me a break,” Jessie said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve known you for ten years, and in all that time you’ve never kept a secret from me. Give it up, sister.”
Becky shook her head again. While it was true that she and Jessie had always told each other everything, this felt different. Special.
“I’m sorry, Jessie. It just doesn’t feel appropriate to talk about it here. Besides, you know what they say. What happens in Vegas...”
Just then her boss’s voice rumbled from the vicinity of her open office door. “Is supposed to stay in Vegas, right?”
Becky whirled, readying a snappy comeback. But what she saw stopped her in her tracks.
Her boss, David, was standing there, smiling. And with him was...Mark.
Mark? How could Mark be standing in her office? Becky stared at him, mouth open. It was not possible. Completely impossible, in fact.
Mark belonged in Vegas, not in New York City.
Heat flared in her belly as she rem
embered the last time they’d met. She’d been texting Jessie, trying to find the courage to walk into the closing night party by herself.
Just picture them standing in their underwear...then stalk the guy that makes you drool, Jessie had texted.
“Right. Underwear,” she’d said to herself. “Must picture delicious-looking men in underwear.”
And that was when she’d heard Mark’s rumbling voice for the first time.
“Well, if you’re looking for volunteers, I happen to be available.”
“What?” she’d yelped, whirling to face the interloper. Then her heart had stopped. The man smiling at her was the living, breathing definition of delicious, from the tips of his artfully rumpled black hair to the toes of his polished leather shoes.
Brilliant white teeth flashed as he grinned down at her. “If you need help. Picturing what a man looks like in his underwear, I mean. I’m happy to serve as a model.”
Becky’s face flamed. “Oh, I...uh...no one was supposed to hear that. I just...I was having trouble walking into the party by myself. My friend suggested I picture everyone in their underwear. As, you know, a motivator.”
Mr. Gorgeous tilted his head back and laughed, and as he did Becky felt it. The zing. The tingle. If she’d been alone she would have done a happy dance. He’d just proved she wasn’t dead inside!
Now that he was standing in her office, she kind of wished she had been.
Becky shook her head to clear it. She needed to pay attention to the conversation that was happening now if she wanted to make sense of the situation.
“Yeah, you’re supposed to leave all the juicy details at the airport,” Jessie said. “But I was trying to convince Becky to give me some of the gory details anyway.”
“Any luck?” asked Mark, giving Becky a sidelong glance.
“None.” Jessie pouted.
“Well, I was there,” he said. “You didn’t miss much. Although the closing night party was unexpectedly awesome.”
Becky’s head snapped up. Was he teasing her? And, if he was, how dared he? Mark just looked at her with a half smile on his face, his dark eyes glinting mischievously.
“That’s what Becky said. Did you two meet?” Jessie asked.
“No!” Becky practically shouted.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Mark said at the same time.
Becky stared at him. He said nothing, just quirked one damnably expressive eyebrow at her and leaned back against the doorframe, letting her take the lead.
“Well, what I meant was we didn’t really spend much time together,” she said.
Just twelve mind-blowing hours and fifty-three bone-melting minutes. Not that she’d been counting or anything.
Her traitorous mind flashed back to their first kiss. The way he’d claimed every part of her mouth and set her whole body aflame. Within seconds she’d known she wanted more from him than a few kisses.
But it was only supposed to be for one night. If she’d known he’d turn up here she would have never...
“Mark, here, is an amazingly talented art director,” her boss said, reaching up to clap him on the back. “I’ve brought him in on a freelance basis to work on a special project. And I want you to work with him, Becky.”
“Me?” she squeaked. “But I’m busy with... I mean, I’ve got...”
“Whatever you currently have on your plate will be given to someone else,” her boss replied. “I need you on this. Be in my office at eleven. We’ll talk.”
Becky snapped her mouth shut, knowing further protest was useless and foolhardy. When David told you to do something, you did it. At least you did if you wanted to keep your job.
Which she did. Unfortunately.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll see you then.”
“Good,” he answered. “Then I won’t keep you any longer. Come on, Mark.”
After they were gone Becky put her head down on her desk, banging it lightly against the keyboard.
“Why, universe, why? Why would you do this to me?”
“Becky? What’s wrong?” Jessie asked.
Becky shook her head mutely.
“Oh, come on, you can tell me. You have to.”
Becky knew she was right. If she didn’t, her soon-to-be-bizarre behavior wouldn’t make much sense. And if there was one person she didn’t want to alienate it was Jessie.
Besides, Jessie was the only one who knew what had happened...before. And what she had been trying to prove to herself that night in Vegas.
Becky got up to close the door before turning to face her friend. Blowing her hair off her forehead, she said, “It was him.”
“Him? Who? I’m not following,” Jessie said.
“Mark. Mark was the man I met in Las Vegas. And things went a little bit further than I had planned.”
“What do you mean?”
“I spent the night with him...” Becky groaned.
“Are you kidding me?” Jessie asked, falling back into her chair.
Becky shook her head.
Jessie tilted her head back and howled with laughter.
“Oh, my God. Only you... This is...it’s unbelievable.”
Becky glared at her. “I really don’t think this is funny.”
“Of course you don’t. But, girl, you gotta believe me when I tell you it is.”
Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one living in a nightmare.
Finally Jessie sobered.
“All right, so Mr. One-Night Stand has become Mr. Works Down the Hall. What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing,” Becky said flatly.
“Why? Was it...bad?”
Pictures from their night together flashed through Becky’s brain. His lips kissing her mouth. His tongue on her breast. His hands...everywhere.
“It was amazing.”
“Did you hit the big O?”
Becky blushed. “Oh, yeah. More than once.”
Jessie looked thoughtful. “Then why not see if this could go somewhere? You know—like, casual relationshippy. Fate seems to be telling you it should.”
Becky stood up, restless. “You know better than anyone why not. After everything that happened with Pence I’ll never have a relationship with someone I work with again.”
Jessie came up behind her and hugged her shoulders.
“I understand. But, Becky, that was a long time ago. You were a different person. And he was your boss, not a coworker. Besides, you can’t let him ruin your whole life. If you do, he wins.”
Sneaking a look at the clock on the wall, she groaned.
“We’ll have to talk about this more later, Jessie. I gotta go to the Hall of Doom.”
“All right, girl. Knock ’em dead.”
* * *
Mark wasn’t sure how much more of this small talk he could take.
He’d been sitting in David’s office for what felt like hours, talking about everything except the reason he was here. He now knew where the bald man’s favorite golf course was—South Carolina—what he preferred to drink—bourbon, straight up—and even how he had gotten his name—his mom had named him after Michelangelo’s David.
But he still didn’t know what his first assignment was going to be or why it had to be secret. When David had called him to see if he might be interested he’d said only that he needed help winning a giant piece of new business—one that had the potential to change the future of the agency.
That was interesting enough, but it was what David had said next that had sold him on the job.
“Mark, I’ve been searching everywhere for someone who can help me bring this home. When your name came up I knew you were the man for the job. I need you on this.”
“How did you get my name?” Mark had asked,
afraid that it was another one of his stepfather’s pieces of charity.
“Mark, you’ve taken home gold from almost every major advertising competition there is. Your name is everywhere.”
Which meant this was a job he’d gotten on his own merits—not through his damned stepfather’s connections. Even better, David had all but promised him a permanent spot in the creative leadership team once they landed the account.
It was the opportunity he’d spent the past ten years working toward. He couldn’t wait to get started.
He just wished he knew what Becky had to do with it.
When he’d looked her up, he’d been amazed at how talented she seemed to be. In the five short years she’d been working as a copywriter she’d earned herself numerous awards. The whole reason she’d been in Vegas was because she was being honored with another award—this one for a social-media campaign she’d masterminded that had gone viral.
In short, she was as amazing in the boardroom as she was in the bedroom.
And what he wouldn’t give to experience that again!
He remembered how hot she’d looked, standing in his room clad only in her red lace bra and panties. And how much better she’d looked out of them...
Unfortunately the look on her face when she’d found him standing in her office had been completely and utterly horrified—and, if he wasn’t mistaken, more than a little bit furious. He didn’t think she was having the same kinds of thoughts he was having right now.
Just then there was a soft knock on the door.
“Come in,” David said.
The door opened and Becky quietly entered the room.
He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked even sexier in her blazer and jeans than she had wearing a cocktail dress.
She flashed a quick look at him, and flushed when he caught her eye. Man, how he’d love to see how far down that flush went.
“Thank you for coming, Becky, my girl,” David boomed. Although he couldn’t have been much more than forty, the man mimicked the vocal mannerisms of a Mad Men–style ad man. “Sit, sit, sit. We have a lot to talk about.”
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