by Tara Pammi
“If you had drowned no one would even have heard you.”
Olivia felt heat creeping up her cheeks. The strong tide had been the reason she had finally waded out. She couldn’t admit that to him, though. Summoning every ounce of her meager willpower, she stayed still. Her fingers twitched for action. Either to push him off or sink her fingers into his tousled hair. “I didn’t drown.”
A smile spread from his mouth, tugging one corner of it upward, creating a delicious dimple. Sinuous heat slithered through her, pooling toward her groin.
His fingers moved to her nape and pressed gently. “I’m glad.”
He was pure sex on legs when he smiled like that, and he knew the power he wielded. But that didn’t stop the prickle of sensation that crept up along her skin. His contempt she could handle. His seduction, not so much. She took a step back, away from the warm invitation of all that male heat.
He tugged at her wrist, leaving her no choice but to turn around. “Where are you going?”
She folded her arms against her chest, preparing to do her best to sound like her twin. Doubly hard when her heart was galloping in her chest. All she needed was to get away from here—now. Then she would lock herself up until morning. Not that she was scared of him. It was her own aching need, her utter lack of control that she didn’t trust. “I would like to sleep alone tonight.” She fluttered her eyelashes, praying the man had a decent side. “Please, Alex.”
“Fine.”
The weight lifted from her shoulders. Before she could think of a response, he pulled her down with him, until they were both sitting down, shoulder to shoulder.
“Kiss me.”
Olivia couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “But...”
He raised a brow, a mocking smile curving his sexy mouth. “One kiss. You can’t deny your husband that.”
What woman refused to kiss her husband on her wedding night? But kissing him was tantamount to...
He frowned, his thumb moving over his lush lower lip. It was a deviation in the stark landscape of his face. “You’ve been acting strange all evening. I’m beginning to wonder—”
She moved toward him, striving hard to ignore the low thrum of anticipation building up inside her. She had no right to kiss the man. Kim had better have a damn good explanation for this charade. Or Alexander would... She didn’t even want to contemplate his reaction when he discovered the truth. Goose bumps rose up on her skin, dulling the edge of her desire.
His hands folded across his chest. His gaze devoured her. He was leaving it all to her. With her hands on his forearms she anchored herself and bent forward, making sure no other parts of their bodies touched.
Her eyes flew shut the moment she felt his breath upon her mouth. Tilting her head to the side, she touched her lips to the corner of his mouth, aiming for minimal contact. Every good intention vanished like a puff of smoke as the taste and feel of him singed her. Primal need spiraled through her, leaving a trail of agony in its wake. A groan she couldn’t control escaped her. Her hands locked on his chest between them. Their legs were in a tangle. She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the wild scent of his arousal, fighting to control her own.
“Say yes,” he rasped near her ear.
Oh, how she wanted to find his mouth again with hers, to run her hands all over his corded strength. Swift on the sinful thought’s heels guilt shot through her, paralyzing every nerve ending, flushing her with shame from within. Contrary to the fact that the media frequently portrayed her as a poster child for scandal, there was a line Olivia wouldn’t cross.
Not again.
She pushed him back with a grunt, frustration and disgust vying within her. “No.” She pressed her fingertips into her arms, finding a perverse satisfaction in her painful grip. Trying to regulate her breathing, she offered him a smile. “I mean, not tonight. I’m really tired.”
He shot her a hard look, coating the very air between them with a chilly frost. “You taste like scotch and the ocean. And yet Kim can’t stand even the smell of alcohol.”
She twisted around so quickly that her head spun. His mouth was set into an unforgiving line and his gaze lanced her, the force of his contempt a live wire between them. He knew it was her.
She launched at him, outrage giving her much-needed momentum. “You know.” His arms between them warded off her blows with little effort. She didn’t care. “You know and you still forced me to kiss you. You bastard.”
Her words fell off him like waves pushing at the sand. His face hard as granite, he grabbed her wrists. “I wanted to see how far you would go.” His mouth tightened and his words were a quiet, menacing whisper. “Color me surprised to discover even Olivia Stanton has some morals.”
She didn’t think. She fisted her hand for a punch. Only his right hand gripped her wrist, his movements quick and agile. She struggled, remembering how hard she had found it to pull herself back from the temptation of his body. And the arrogant jerk had been testing her!
If she hadn’t pulled back when she had...if she hadn’t found that last ounce of sanity...to think how low she would have fallen....
A sob built inside her. His hands held hers down at either side. He could have easily twisted her arm behind her and hurt her. She wouldn’t have blamed him. He didn’t. A moan escaped her as he flipped her easily, sandwiching her facedown between the sand and his hard body.
Hating her complete loss of restraint, she wiggled to be free. The silky sand shifted and glided beneath her until his hard body slipped and covered hers in a sinuous whisper that made her mouth dry. His body slammed into her from behind with just enough force to still her.
“Stop it, Olivia.”
His breath sounded choppy and disjointed as he raised himself away from her. But it was too late. The incredible caress of his erection against her backside was etched on her body forever.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
He already had. Olivia breathed in and out, sand flying into her mouth, hating the gnawing sensation in her stomach. Why would Alexander King’s opinion have the power to hurt her? She gave that power to no man, not anymore—not since she’d realized she was only asking for more heartache.
She raised her head and turned around. She could do nothing about the trembling in her stomach, but she filled her words with scorn. “I kissed you because I was pretending to be Kim. And, yes, for some unfathomable reason I’m attracted to you. But the whole world knows I’ve the worst taste in men. What’s your excuse?”
* * *
He didn’t have one.
Alexander couldn’t remember the last time he had been so aroused, felt so out of tune with his own body. He usually had no problem controlling his needs as it suited him. Yet in that moment he’d had to summon the last ounce of his self-discipline to stay still. Adrenaline pumped through him, begging for release. He sucked a breath in and counted to ten. His muscles burned. He clenched his teeth.
He loosened his grip on her wrists. Her skin was smooth against his fingerpads. Greedily he drank in the luscious temptation she presented. His thighs shook with the need to lean back into her so that he could feel the inviting cradle of her butt against his erection. Desire rattled through him. He moved his fingers up her arm toward the delicate arch of her neck. She gasped. He jerked back as though burned.
What the hell was he doing? He needed to find out where Kim was, get on a flight to Paris... Instead, he...
He moved to his knees and pulled himself away from her, his mind whirring. “What you provoke in me is a physical reaction—purely animalistic. Temporary insanity fueled by six months of abstinence. There’s nothing more I despise in the world than a man or a woman who can’t control those impulses.”
As though the fight had left her, she sagged into the ground, careful to move her body away from his. “Please,
Alexander. Let me go.”
Shifting back, he stared at her, unwilling to touch her even to pull her up.
She sat up and pushed her hair out of her face, her movements jumpy, her willowy body trembling. His gaze fell to the impressions on her wrists. He sank back to his knees with a silent thud, feeling an invisible punch to his gut. Dear God, he had done that to her. Even in the silver light of the moon there was no mistaking the light red marks on her wrists.
Whatever she had done, however much she had provoked him, there was no excuse. Everything he hated within himself, everything he kept tightly bound, had snapped free in a matter of seconds. Shame spiraled through him, cooling his desire, drenching him in a cold sweat—a familiar sick feeling that greeted him like an old friend.
To use brute strength to control...it was the lowest he could sink to.
He pulled her hands into his and cursed when she pulled back like a frightened cat. “We should run some cold water on your wrists.”
She stood up, dusting away the sand from her body, her gaze pointedly looking away from him. “I’ve had worse. This is nothing.”
He hated the clawing need to explain that he wasn’t that man. But he wouldn’t be able to look at himself if he didn’t. “You probably don’t expect better from the men in your life.” He ignored her gasp. “I expect better of myself.” He tilted his head, seeking again the proof of his boorish behavior. “I apologize, Olivia. Nothing justifies my behavior.”
Her gaze studied him, disbelief pouring out of her stiff shoulders. “I provoked you. I—”
He shook his head. “That’s the pathetic excuse of a weak man.”
She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off.
Stepping back from her, he fisted his hands by his side. “Get dressed. I’ll see you inside.” His words were clipped, his anger at himself coating his throat. “And don’t even think of leaving.”
CHAPTER THREE
IF ALEXANDER HAD assumed that he would be less distracted with her dressed, he was wrong. Just as he stepped into the huge open-plan kitchen Olivia entered through the high archway, covered in his white robe, the one Kim had borrowed from him two days ago, her honey-gold hair gleaming wet, her skin glowing pink.
He pulled his gaze away from the vee of the robe and poured himself a drink from the bar. The sounds of her puttering around the kitchen beat a tattoo in his head. His patience running dangerously thin, he guzzled down his scotch. The erotic reminder of how it had tasted on her was forever imprinted on his mouth.
“I’m waiting, Olivia.”
She slammed the door on the state-of-art steel refrigerator and leaned against it. “Is there any chance of finding food in this godforsaken mansion? Or do you expect me to die of hunger?”
He pushed a chair back and sat down, stretched his legs. A slow ache was beginning to build behind his left eye. “Where’s Kim?”
She glared at him and started digging around in the numerous cabinets. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t play games with me.” He raked a hand through his hair. This morning his life had been mapped out perfectly. He’d been about to marry a woman who was sensible, undemanding—someone who aroused nothing in him except affection and respect, someone who would stand by his side as he gave his sister the life she deserved. Instead, he had slipped the diamond ring on the finger of her antithesis.
“I tend to rebel when threatened—if you don’t already know.” She poked her head out of the drawer she had been searching and ran a hand through her hair. “Add the fact that my stomach is eating itself, I’m very dangerous right now.”
He crossed to her in a minute and cornered her, more annoyed by her presence than Kim’s absence. An irrational reaction if ever he’d had one. “Don’t mistake my patience to be a failing, Olivia.” When she tried to turn away, he shifted his body to block her. The scent of her skin surrounded him, assaulting him with images of her in the shower. “Kim was fine this morning. Until you showed up. It’s obvious that she’s somewhere cleaning up your mess again.”
Her mouth opened in protest. She swallowed. The column of her neck drew his gaze. Her hands swept over her stomach. She was nervous and distressed. Finally he was going to get some answers.
“I’m truly hungry, Alexander,” she said, her mouth a beguiling pout. “I missed lunch and then ate hardly a morsel at the reception. Can’t you order your famous French chef to whip up something? Preferably something substantial.”
He fisted his hands, digging deep inside himself for the last scrap of patience. The nerves in his temple stretched taut, as if they would snap at any minute. He pointed her toward the phone on the wall.
With a cheer, she plucked it from the wall and rattled away in French, ordering enough food to feed an army.
He threw her cell phone onto the glass table in between them, along with the giant metallic silver handbag he’d picked up from Kim’s suite. “Call her.”
Her eyebrows shot into to her hairline, her molten gaze looking daggers at him. “You went through my things?”
“You stood next to me and pledged to be my wife.” He smiled, despite the fact that the situation was slipping out of his control. “Life’s a crapshoot.”
She tucked the phone into her bag, a frown on her face. “Didn’t you see the calls I’ve been making every fifteen minutes? She’s not picking up.”
“Then we’ll go find her. Tell me where she is.”
For the first time this evening she looked anxious. “I don’t know. I think she wanted to postpone the wedding but didn’t know how to tell you.”
She folded her hands and leaned against the gleaming marble counter, a little frown furrowing her brow. He followed her glance to the floor-to-ceiling glass doors leading to the beach and the silence he had always cherished was suffused with tension.
“I don’t think she left the island. She said she would be back by now.”
“You think this a joke?” He hated the spiraling tension he could feel in himself. He needed to get control of this situation, and if that meant dealing with someone who didn’t have a responsible bone in her body, so be it. “Why would Kim walk out at the last minute if it wasn’t to deal with whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time?”
Olivia glared at him. “Do you think anything in the world would tempt me to spend time with you other than for my sister? Whether you believe me or not, I did it because Kim asked me to. Now, if you’re done blaming me for helping you, I would like to get out of here.”
“You can’t leave.” His face settled into a mocking smile. “Even if that sounds very unappreciative of me after all your help.”
Sarcastic jerk. “Listen, Alexander. All Kim said was that she couldn’t marry you today. God knows why.”
Olivia felt a tightness around her chest. Her sister hadn’t confided in her. Kim had always been the rock between the two of them. It didn’t bode well that she’d had to leave on the day of her own wedding. That was just not...Kim. Fear for her safety began a rapid tattoo inside Olivia’s head. Where was she?
“But she still wants you. I mean, she persuaded me into this deception precisely because she didn’t want to lose you—as she put it.”
He didn’t bat an eyelid. “If there had been a problem Kim would have come to me—not gone through some elaborate deception and roped you in, of all people.”
Meaning he had a special dose of contempt reserved just for her? She let his comment pass by, even though his prejudice pricked her. She was used to it now. She was, truly. Yet it still shocked her that people judged her based on her history before spending even an hour with her.
“So, if she had come to you and said that she couldn’t marry you tonight it would have been okay? Because she said you would hate even a hint of scandal.” She should stop there, the oh-so-small sensible part of her w
arned her. But she had left that part behind years ago. “Not that it really is scandalous to postpone a wedding.”
“You slapped my friend at my engagement party and made a spectacle of yourself. A man with whom you broke a business contract after he had been decent enough to hire you.”
His lush lower lip tapered into a stiff line, hardness entering his blue gaze, and she braced herself.
“Even the word broke is too professional for your conduct, because you simply upped and left one day, didn’t you? Nothing is scandalous enough for you, Olivia.”
It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. But his scornful words lanced through her and found a vulnerable spot, leaving her shaken to the core.
“Assuming you’re telling the truth, if Kim had talked to me I would have been married to her—instead of arguing about what constitutes a scandal with you.”
Olivia took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress the fury rising through her. This wasn’t her fight. She couldn’t and she didn’t care what he thought of her. She had done what her sister had asked her to do. Still, his arrogant assumption that Kim would have gone through with the wedding rankled. Didn’t he care about Kim’s feelings?
Obviously he didn’t. Appearances were everything to Alexander King. Even the knowledge that she was in his life for no more than a day couldn’t dispel his distaste. And her twin was planning to spend her life with him. She couldn’t let him get to her.
“But she didn’t talk to you. My sister asked me for help and I stepped in. And I look forward to the moment when you know the truth and will grovel at my feet for forgiveness.”
Hell would freeze over before Alexander King groveled at her feet. She knew that. But a girl needed her wild fantasies to keep going. It was right up there with making out with Johnny Depp and being able to survive on strawberry martinis. It was better that he’d found her out. She didn’t have to pretend to be Kim anymore and could go back to her own life. Far away from make-one-mistake-and-I’ll-cut-you-out Alexander King.