by Susan Fox
They didn’t scare him. He’d hurt her once and he had no intention of doing it again. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have asked you to change. I fell in love with you just the way you are. You’re a wonderful person.”
For once, he must have said the right thing because her eyes glowed and her lips curved. “Mark, I—”
“No, wait. I want you to be whoever you want to be, to climb into your car and go wherever you want. If you think you can love me, then we’ll figure the rest out as we go.”
Mischief sparked in her eyes. “You mean, be spontaneous and impulsive?”
“I can learn.”
Her eyes softened again. “Yes, you can. And so can I. I was going to come to Bali to tell you that.”
Mark was aware of another car pulling up, but this time he didn’t even glance up. He stared into the depths of her green-blue eyes. “You were coming to Bali?”
“A travel agent’s checking flights for right after the wedding.”
He saw the truth in her eyes, and warmth eased through his tired body. “You were coming to me, Jenna?”
“Yes. To tell you I was wrong. I’m not so free. Deep down, I’ve been afraid I wasn’t good enough to commit. I don’t want to be like that anymore. The way I feel for you, it’s so new for me, so much bigger than anything I’ve even imagined. I want to work with you in Indonesia, and I want us to find out if we share a love that’s strong enough for us to build a future together. Working and loving side by side.”
He touched her cheek. Needing to make sure he understood, he said, “You mean you’d give up all the variety for one man, one cause?”
“We’ll create our own variety. Side by side, as partners.” She grinned up at him. “That’ll be all the excitement I can handle.”
“And it’ll be more excitement and more joy than I’d ever hoped for.”
“You and me both.”
He cupped her face between his hands and bent down as she rose to meet him. Their lips touched and he lost himself in her. Now he understood this experience, the magic that happened when they kissed. He and Jenna, both strong, independent people, were two halves of something amazing and utterly right.
Dimly, the sounds of clapping and cheering penetrated his consciousness. He eased his lips from hers. “We belong together.”
“We do. I’ve been falling for you since … oh, probably since the moment you ordered strawberry pie.”
“I’ve been falling for you since I first looked into your eyes.”
A throat cleared, and Mark glanced past Jenna to see the woman who’d been driving the Mercedes and a distinguished man with graying hair and glasses. The man held out his hand. “We’re Jenna’s parents, Rebecca and James Fallon.”
“Mark Chambers.” He shook her father’s hand.
Her mother eyed him appraisingly as she, too, shook firmly. “You’ll stay for dinner,” she announced.
“Thanks, I’d like to.” Damn, he hadn’t thought this through. This wasn’t the way he should be meeting her parents. He knew they were hard to impress, and he needed to show them he was the right man for their daughter. “But I’ve been on the road for the last two days without a shower or change of clothes, and I’m afraid—”
“One of the men will loan you clothes,” she said. “Nav?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the dark-skinned man said, a note of humor in his voice. “Mark, we look like we’re about the same size.”
“And I’m sure”—Rebecca Fallon’s deep brown eyes actually twinkled—“Jenna will help you find the shower.”
“Uh, thank you, that would be … good.”
Jenna saved him from embarrassing himself further, by grabbing his hand. “The rest of the introductions can wait until dinner,” she said firmly. “Come on.”
As she started to tug him away, he remembered something, and told her mother, “There’s a strawberry-rhubarb pie in the trunk of the car.”
“You stopped at Marianne’s?” Jenna said.
“I was going to get glazed strawberry pie, but she said a cooked pie would survive the trip better.”
“You’re a keeper.” She towed him away from her family.
The two brown-haired sisters exchanged a laughing comment he didn’t catch, but he did hear the young blonde say, with determination, “I have to see Matt.”
Then Jenna was leading him through the front door and up the stairs. “I can’t believe you made the drive so quickly,” she said.
“I drove all night. I wanted to get back to you and say what I needed to say.”
“I felt the same. I even phoned your grandmother.”
“You did? How did that go?”
“She didn’t sound very friendly.”
No, she wouldn’t be. His grandparents would disapprove. But this was his life. He wasn’t them and he didn’t want to live the way they did. In time, he hoped they’d understand.
More immediately, he hoped Jenna’s family would.
And, even more immediately, she was ushering him into a bathroom and locking the door. “How tired are you, Dr. Chambers?” She reached for the hem of his T-shirt.
“You’re waking me up.” Just the touch of her fingers against his skin was stirring him to arousal. “But stop, I’m sweaty and disgusting.”
“Sweaty, yeah. Disgusting, never.” She reached behind the shower curtain and got the water running as he unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down, freeing his growing erection.
He stepped under the warm spray and groaned with pleasure. Now, if she’d just climb in here with him, his world would be perfect. “At the campgrounds, we had those separate male and female showers.”
“I remember,” she said. “And I suggested sharing, but you pointed out there’d be other people around.”
Her family was somewhere out there. But … “You locked the bathroom door.”
She chuckled. “I did.” Through the clear plastic curtain, he saw her begin to unbutton her sleeveless blouse.
Hallelujah.
Except, this was the woman who liked spontaneity, and he’d told her he could learn.
He shoved back the curtain, not caring that water splashed everywhere, grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her into the tub, clothes and all.
Laughing, she gazed up at him as water soaked through her clothing.
He pulled her close, under the pulsing spray, and kissed her, feeling a sense of love, acceptance, and belonging he’d never experienced before.
She undid her shirt buttons as he unzipped her shorts, and still they kissed as if their lips were fused together. When she was naked, she made a soft, moaning sound against his lips and tried to climb his body.
Exhaustion completely gone now, he hooked his hands under her firm butt and lifted her, supporting her as she hooked her legs around his waist.
“Oh, Mark,” she sighed happily, “since I met you, it’s sure been one wild ride, but I like how it’s ended up.”
“Ended up? Oh no, we’re just getting started.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing a series is so much fun and I’d like to thank Audrey LaFehr, my editor at Kensington, for giving me the opportunity to create the four-book Wild Ride to Love series. His, Unexpectedly is the third book—the “automobiles” story—in my sexy “planes, trains, automobiles, and a cruise ship” series about the Fallon sisters. I hope readers will check out the first two books, Sex Drive (written under the name Susan Lyons) and Love, Unexpectedly and be on the lookout for the fourth.
I’d also like to thank my agent, Emily Sylvan Kim, Martin Biro at Kensington, the Kensington art department who always create such wonderful covers, and my fabulous critiquers: Delilah Marvelle, Lacy Danes, Michelle Hancock, Elizabeth Allan, and Nazima Ali. You’ve all made this book possible.
Last but definitely not least, very special thanks to my readers. I love sharing my stories with you and love hearing from you. You can e-mail me at [email protected], write c/o PO Box 73523, Downtown Postal Outlet, 10
14 Rob-son Street, Vancouver, BC, Canada V6E 4L9, or contact me through my website at www.susanfox.ca where you’ll also find excerpts, behind the scenes notes, a monthly contest, my newsletter, and other goodies.
If you enjoyed His, Unexpectedly, you won’t want to miss
Susan Fox’s deliciously sexy and exciting romance,
Love, Unexpectedly.
Read on for a little taste of this terrific story.
A Brava trade paperback on sale now!
Chapter 1
“What’s new with me? Only everything!” Nav Bharani’s neighbor Kat widened her chestnut brown eyes the-atrically. She dropped her laundry basket in front of one of the half dozen washing machines in the basement laundry room of their apartment building, then hopped up on a dryer, clearly prioritizing gossip over chores.
Nav grinned and leaned back against his own washer, which was already churning his Saturday-morning laundry. “I saw you Wednesday night, Kat.” She’d taken him to one of her girlfriends to supply muscle, setting up a new bookcase and rearranging furniture. “Everything can’t have changed in two days.”
Though something major had happened in his own life yesterday. A breakthrough in his photography career. He was eager to tell Kat, but he’d listen to her news first.
She gave an eye roll. “Okay, almost everything. My baby sister’s suddenly getting married.”
Even in the crappy artificial light, with her reddish-brown curls a bed-head mess and pillow marks on one cheek, Kat was so damned pretty she made his heart ache.
“Merilee? I thought she and … what’s his name? always intended to marry.”
“Matt. Yeah, but they were talking next year, when they graduate from university. Now it’s, like, now.” She snapped her fingers.
“When’s now?” he asked.
“Two weeks, today. Can you believe it?” She shook her head vigorously. “So now I have to take a couple weeks off and go to Vancouver to help put together a wedding on virtually no notice. The timing sucks. June’s a really busy month at work.” She was the PR director at Le Cachet, a boutique luxury hotel in Old Montreal—a job that made full use of her creativity, organizational skills, and outgoing personality.
“Too bad they didn’t arrange their wedding to suit your workload,” he teased.
“Oops. Self-centered bitch?”
“Only a little.”
She sighed, her usual animation draining from her face. Lines of strain around her eyes and shadows under them told him she was upset about more than the inconvenience of taking time off work. Nav knew Kat well after two years. As well as she let anyone know her, and in every way but the one he wanted most: as her lover.
He dropped the teasing tone and touched her hand. “How do you feel about the wedding?”
“Thrilled to bits for Merilee. Of course.” Her answer was prompt, but she stared down at their hands rather than meeting his eyes.
“Kat?”
Her head lifted, lips twisting. “Okay, I am happy for her, honestly, but I’m also green with envy. She’s ten years younger. It should be me.” She jumped to the floor, feet slapping the concrete like an exclamation mark.
That was what he’d guessed, as he knew she longed for marriage and kids. With someone other than him, unfortunately. But this wasn’t the time to dwell on his heartache. His best friend was hurting.
He tried to help her see this rationally. “Your sister’s been with this guy a long time, right?” Kat didn’t talk much about her family—he knew she had some issues—but he’d heard a few snippets.
“Since grade two. And they always said they wanted to get married.”
“So why keep waiting?”
She wrinkled her nose. “So I can do it first? Yeah, okay, that’s a sucky reason. But I’m thirty-one and I want marriage and kids as badly as she does.” She gave an exaggerated sniffle and then launched herself at him. “Damn, I need a hug.”
His arms came up, circling her body, cuddling her close.
This was vintage Kat. She had no patience for what she called “all that angsty, self-analytical, pop-psych crap.” If she was feeling crappy, she vented, then moved on.
Or so she said. Nav was dead certain it didn’t work that easily. Not that he was a shrink or anything, only a friend who cared.
Cared too much for his own sanity. Now, embracing her, he used every ounce of self-control to resist pulling her tighter. To try not to register the firm, warm curves under the soft fabric of her sweats. To fight the arousal she’d so easily awakened in him since they’d met.
Did she feel the way his heart raced or was she too absorbed in her own misery? Nav wished he was wearing more clothing than thin running shorts and his old Cambridge rugby jersey, but he’d come to the laundry room straight from an early run.
Feeling her warmth, smelling her sleep-tousled scent, he thought back to his first sight of her.
He’d been moving into the building, grubby in his oldest jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves ripped out as he wrestled his meager belongings out of the rental truck and into the small apartment. The door beside his had opened and he’d paused, curious to see his neighbor.
A lovely young woman in a figure-hugging sundress stepped into the hall. His photographer’s eye had freeze-framed the moment. The tantalizing curves, the way the green of her dress complemented her auburn curls, the sparkle of interest in her brown eyes as they widened and she scanned him up and down.
As for the picture she saw—well, he must’ve made quite a sight with his bare arms hugging a tall pole lamp and a sandalwood statue of Ganesh, the elephant god. Nani, his mum’s mother, had given him the figure when he was a kid, saying it would bless his living space.
The woman in the hallway gave him a bright smile. “Bon-jour, mon nouveau voisin,” she greeted him as her new neighbor. “Bienvenue. Je m’appelle Kat Fallon.”
Her name and the way she pronounced it told him that, despite her excellent Québécois accent, she was a native English speaker like Nav. He replied in that language. “Pleased to meet you, Kat. I’m Nav Bharani.”
“Ooh, nice accent.”
“Thanks.” He’d grown up in England and had only been in Canada two years, mostly speaking French, so his English accent was pretty much intact.
His neighbor stretched out a hand, seeming not to care that the one he freed up in return was less than clean.
He felt a connection, a warm jolt of recognition that was sexual but way more than just that. A jolt that made him gaze at her face, memorizing every attractive feature and knowing, in his soul, that this woman was going to be important in his life.
He’d felt something similar when he’d unwrapped his first camera on his tenth birthday. A sense of revelation and certainty.
Already today, Ganesh had brought him luck.
Kat felt something special, too. He could tell by the flush that tinged her cheekbones, the way her hand lingered before separating from his. “Have you just moved from England, Nav?”
“No, I’ve been studying photography in Quebec City for a couple years, at Université Laval. Just graduated, and I thought I’d find more … opportunities in Montreal.” He put deliberate emphasis on the word “opportunities,” wondering if she’d respond to the hint of flirtation.
A grin hovered at the corners of her mouth. “Montreal is full of opportunity.”
“When you wake up in the morning, you never know what the day will bring?”
She gave a rich chuckle. “Some days are better than others.” Then she glanced at the elephant statue. “Who’s your roommate?”
“Ganesh. Among other things, he’s the Lord of Beginnings.” Nav felt exhilarated, sensing that this light flirtation was the beginning of something special.
“Beginnings. Well, how about that.”
“Some people believe that if you stroke his trunk, he’ll bring you luck.”
“Really?” Her hand lifted, then the elevator dinged and they both glanced toward it.
A
man stepped out and strode toward them with a dazzlingly white smile. Tall and striking, he had strong features, highlighted hair that had been styled with a handful of product, and clothes that screamed, “I care way too much about how I look, and I have the money to indulge myself.”
“Hey, babe,” he said in English. He bent down to press a quick, hard kiss to Kat’s lips, then, arm around her waist, glanced at Nav. “New neighbor?”
Well shit, she had a boyfriend. So, she hadn’t been flirting?
Her cheeks flushed lightly. “Yes, Nav Bharani. And this is Jase Jackson.” She glanced at the toothpaste commercial guy with an expression that was almost awestruck. “Nav, you’ve probably heard of Jase—he’s one of the stars of Back Streets.” She named a gritty Canadian TV drama filmed in Ontario and Quebec. Nav had caught an episode or two, but it hadn’t hooked him, and he didn’t remember the actor.
“Hey, man,” Jase said, tightening his hold on Kat. Marking his territory.
“Hey.”
“Jase,” Kat said, “would you mind getting a bottle of water from my fridge? It’s going to be hot out there.”
When the other man had gone into the apartment, Nav said, “So, you two are …?”
“A couple.” Her dreamy gaze had followed the other man. “I’m crazy about him. He’s amazing.”
Well, hell. Despite that initial awareness between them, she hadn’t been flirting, only being friendly to a new neighbor. So much for his sense of certainty. The woman was in love with someone else.
Nav, who could be a tiger on the rugby field but was pretty easygoing otherwise, had felt a primitive urge to punch out Actor Guy’s lights.
Now, in the drab laundry room, hearing Kat sigh against his chest, he almost wished he’d done it. That rash act might have changed the dynamic between him and Kat.
Instead he’d accepted that she would, at most, be a friend and had concentrated on getting settled in his new home.
He’d just returned from a visit to New Delhi and a fight with his parents, who’d moved back to India when his dad’s father died last year. In their eyes, he’d been a traitor when he’d rejected the business career they’d groomed him for and moved to Quebec City to study photography. Now that he’d graduated, his parents said it was time their only child got over his foolishness. He should take up a management role in the family company, either in New Delhi or London, and agree to an arranged marriage.