very charming wedding 02 - boss and the bride

by Laurie LeClair

  “Have anyone in mind?”

  Swallowing hard, Drake looked over his shoulder to the empty threshold and back to her again. “Surely, not me.” So why did he want to? The wicked thought teased him more than he dared admit.

  “Ah…Drake, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

  “You’re not quitting, are you?” No. He couldn’t lose her. “We’ll hammer out the contract. Whatever you’d like, just tell me.”

  “A kiss.”

  Shock slammed into his chest as if he’d just been tackled by a three-hundred-pound lineman. Thanks to his football playing days in college, he’d never forget the impact. But this was far worse; the ache wouldn’t go away. “No,” he said, holding up his hand and shaking his head. Do not tempt me!

  Her loud gulp reached him.

  “Heather, this is crazy. How much have you had to drink anyway? You’re carried away with the wedding and all the romance in the air.”

  “Stop! Drake, I’m crushing on you, all right?” Her anger and desperation rang out.

  “You’re joking.” Perspiration broke out near his temples and he tugged at his suddenly too-tight collar. He’d handled tense all-day business negotiations better than he was handling this right now.

  “I’m not.” She threw up her hands. “I like you, really like you. Gordo and Lacey and Ashley say I have the hots for you.”

  “Judge Gordon Daniels? Lacey’s dad? That Gordo?”

  “Of course, that Gordo.”

  Drake’s head buzzed and his ribcage squeezed tight. “You asked a judge?”

  “He’s one of my best friend’s dads. And he’s a man.” She shrugged. “It kinda came up in conversation a year or so ago.”

  “A year?” He sucked in a sharp, painful breath. “You’ve liked me for a year now?” His head swam with her confession.

  “Two, actually.” She winced. Her curt nod and clenched hands sealed the deal.

  Panic bubbled. What just happened here? Why hadn’t he noticed? Why hadn’t he paid attention?

  “Say something. Anything. Don’t just look shell-shocked.”

  “That’s because I am. Heather, you have to know this is not good for business.” He’d said the first thing to pop in his numb brain and it was definitely the wrong thing by the way her eyes widened and jaw dropped.

  She moaned. “I get it,” she said in a tight voice filled with hurt. “I’m not your type. I’m not a model or actress or rail-thin or tall or blonde or have long legs that reach to the moon and back.” Heather looked down at herself. “And I don’t have a perfect anything about me, especially in this ridiculous dress.”

  His type? God, it sounded awful! No, he sounded shallow and disgusting. Is that how she saw him? Something deep inside clenched. “I’m your boss, Heather. This wouldn’t work because of the company.” Yeah, that’s the reason; keep saying that, Diamond.

  The pale skin of her face flared with dots of pink on her cheeks now, standing out sharply in comparison to the shiny, brunette curls falling from her updo. “No biggie. I just wanted to make sure there was nothing there. Guess I don’t need to do the deed to find out now, do I?” She shoved him out of her way and marched out.

  “Wait! Don’t go!” He followed, trying to catch up with her as the growing crowd in the lobby swelled, swallowing her up.

  Losing sight of her scared him. If he were honest with himself, he would have said her declaration left him shaking.

  And it just wasn’t about the job, either.

  No, Drake Diamond sensed the budding feelings in her, but only after his last fling pointed it out as she packed up her things and went on with her life six months ago. Her parting shot didn’t escape his radar.

  “Maybe, Drake, they’re not so one-sided. Ever think of that? That commitment phobia you have suits you just fine. Or it did. No fuss. No messy feelings. Both parties agree. Even playing the field. Could be Heather Talbert isn’t the only one wanting more. And that scares the hell out of you.” She kissed him good-bye on the cheek and chuckled all the way out the door.

  Her words rang in his head. One line repeated itself over and over again: And that scares the hell out of you.

  Swallowing hard, Drake allowed the possibility to take hold.

  Why else would he hop on a plane to secure an iron-clad contract with a happy customer or jump at the chance to work in solitude at home away from the bustling office he loved to be a part of or send her off by herself to the Caribbean for what should have been longer than three days?

  And why would his chest feel so tight he could barely breathe as he imagined life without her in it?

  What’s wrong with you, Diamond? Straighten up! An image of his father softly weeping after his mother left them burned bright. Don’t ever let a woman hurt you.

  “Drake, there you are!” One of the woman attendees snagged him by his arm. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  He recalled the masked woman in the silky green gown who leaned suggestively toward him with the sole purpose of showing him her assets in her low-cut dress. She clung to him earlier, offering him a night of passion.

  Tempted wasn’t even in his vocabulary at the time. Repulsed? That was more like it. Married women were not in his realm of anything.

  “Did you like the drink I suggested?” She didn’t have to answer; he knew she’d indulged as she swayed in front of him now.

  “Where are we going?” Her words slurred.

  “I am going. You are staying. With your husband. Is he still discussing politics with his cronies?” The man had to be twenty years her senior.

  “Boring!” she cried out. “But now you, my lovely Drake. You are hot and hunky and I’ve been wanting to jump your bones forever. Perfect chance, right?”

  “Wrong.” His flat, hard answer was ignored.

  “I’ll follow you.”

  “Don’t.” He gently set her aside and walked away.

  The clickety-clack of heels rushed to keep up.

  He had one woman tailing him and another racing from him.

  Drake groaned. Could it get any worse?

  Chapter 3

  Heather waddled as best she could down the museum steps, past the marble statues, and into the chilly evening air. Limos formed lines up and down the drive. Which one was hers?

  As a part of the wedding party, all the girls met at Meagan’s house, climbed in one, and then came to the gorgeous ceremony on the grounds. The reception spilled from indoors to outdoors after, so no need for more transportation. Doubts grew if she even had a ride. Now, she realized the only limo she recognized was the sleek, charcoal-gray one Drake used all the time.

  Could she?

  He owed her, didn’t he?

  The sting of shame burned her cheeks. As letdowns go, this was a dropkick in the pants. And she thought the last guy dumping her stung!

  “How can I ever face Drake again? He must think I’m a lovesick idiot!” she muttered as she made her way to his car. “Okay, I go home, send Wallace back for Drake and no one’s the wiser, right? And I hand in my resignation tomorrow morning, right before I hightail it out of there to the Charmings Wedding Boutique to meet Lacey and Ashley for our bridesmaids’ dress rehab stint with Rico.”

  Phew, she had a plan! Not one she wanted or liked, but she had a direction for tomorrow. Now, about getting away tonight…

  She sucked in a sharp breath when she halted at the door of the empty car. “Wallace? Where are you?”

  A strong breeze rose and swept over her, leaving her bare shoulders cold and her shivering.

  Decision made, she popped the door open and scurried in the backseat. “Change of plans. I wait for Wallace to return first.”

  Sliding all the way in, she yanked the door shut behind her. The slam rocked the car, the noise deafening. “Ha, nothing subtle about that.”

  A mixture of embarrassment and anger propelled her to berate herself. “How could you do that? In there? What’s he going to think of you now?”

&
nbsp; Tears stung and she scrubbed them away. Her good contact shifted. “No. You stay put, you hear me?” She blinked and somehow it went back in place. “One-eyed Heather,” she joked, trying to cheer herself up.

  She felt around for the car phone. Finding it, she messaged Wallace.

  No answer.

  The interior, although plush, didn’t have a blanket. The coldness seeped into her.

  Finally, the phone beeped.

  Sick, Wallace texted. Replacement driver on his way.

  What? No. You can’t make me wait longer.

  “Plan B or is this C now?” She went for the door handle and froze when she looked out through the tinted glass and saw Drake headed this way with a woman dressed in a spectacular shiny green gown on his heels headed this way. “Oh, hell no!”

  Heather scrambled to the other side, knowing she could not face Drake this soon and with another woman. The door was locked. She searched for the button to pop it open.

  Her hands shook and she couldn’t find it. Looking over her shoulder, she watched Drake descend.

  With her mind in shambles, she squealed and dove for the front seat. She tried to lift her leg to hurtle the back of the seat, but the mermaid style gown didn’t budge. Yanking harder, she heard the rip, the fabric giving. It wasn’t enough.

  The top half of her body straddled the hard, unyielding seatback with her legs hanging in mid-air. “The human shrimp cocktail is now headlining…”

  Half laughing and panicking, she launched herself downward, scraping along the seat and careening head first into the front just as the back door opened.

  A gust of wind rushed in right before he entered.

  As gingerly as she could, she righted herself and then crawled along the floorboard, inching her way to the driver’s side. Surely, she could get out and roll to the ground.

  “Oh, how cozy,” the woman said, breaking the silent air.

  “Just right for one.” Drake’s voice held a steely edge.

  What’s wrong with this picture?

  “You mean, perfect for two, don’t you?” She giggled and it came out strained.

  Heather tilted her head to hear more and realized her mask was no longer on top of her head.

  What? Is it back there? Please, don’t let him find it or me!

  The door shut.

  “You’re married, or have you forgotten?” Drake asked.

  “Him? I like to get him jealous every now and again. Spices things up.”

  “I’m not a spice or ever intend to be one on your shelf.”

  Her chuckle held a sensuality that begged to differ. “We’ll just see about that. I can do things…”

  The car shifted. “It’s time for you to go. I’ll have my driver escort you back.”

  “Oh, does Drakey wakey like to be bossy? Is that what you do with your assistant, Heather? Behind closed doors?”

  At the mention of her name, Heather cringed.

  “You have a vivid imagination. You can go anytime now.” The beeping sounds of Drake punching in numbers on his cell phone rent the air. “Wallace?”

  The next thing Heather knew was the phone flew from the backseat and nearly clipped her shoulder before bouncing off the dashboard and back on the front seat. It was there, inches from her face and lit up.

  “No need for that,” the woman said. “Here, feel this.”

  “You tossed my phone?” Drake’s voice grew closer and the car shifted with his weight.

  The phone! He’s coming for it! He’ll find me here!

  Heather bumped her head on the steering wheel, trying to rush to get out. She saw stars. Or was that the contact slipping again?

  Long, strong fingers curled around her bare arm, stopping her in her tracks.

  Jerking around, she looked up into the wide, questioning, dreamy chocolate-brown eyes of Drake the Rake.

  Caught! Fudge!

  Chapter 4

  Stunned, Drake watched Heather shrink away in the dim light from his cell phone right before it shut off. If he hadn’t had a good grip on her silky smooth skin, she’d have escaped. Once again.

  She’s here! Now, he had to convince her to listen to reason. For the sake of his company, they couldn’t go there.

  “Oh, Drakey wakey, you like kinky? I can bend over the seat and you can give—”

  “No!” The force of that one word finally stopped Mrs. Whatchamacallit from feeling up his backside. Her greedy hands halted and she pulled away.

  “You’re no fun.”

  If he could see her face, Drake was certain she pouted. “Don’t you think we should say something? Heather?”

  He heard her loud gulp. Slowly, he assisted her up and onto the seat. Now, they knelt face-to-face with only the back of the seat separating them.

  “Her? You’re doing her?” The woman practically shrieked.

  “Yes,” Drake agreed.

  “No,” Heather said.

  “We’re having a fight, aren’t we, dear?” He modulated his voice to sound like a devoted lover. The absurdity of it and how natural it came shook him. Caught between the grabby wife and the hostile vibe rolling off his employee, Drake had little choice but to act this out.

  “Not on your life, darling.” Heather’s sweet answer did not match her staunch look.

  “Need help here,” he muttered. Rescue me, please!

  “Go somewhere else for it.” Her singsong reply jarred him.

  “You two are like a wet blanket,” the married woman complained. “I am out of here to find someone warm and willing.” She moved. The back door opened. She cried out. “Hon…honey, what are you doing here?”

  Drake stilled. Turning swiftly, he settled in the seat, still holding onto one of Heather’s arms and keeping her planted there.

  “Don’t you think I know what you’ve been up to, Dominique? How many does this make? My private eye can fill in the numbers.” The man’s anger percolated with each hard word. He climbed in, slamming the door shut.

  “But…it wasn’t me. It was him!”

  “What about the others? How many times will I have to have my guys beat up your lovers to stay away?” He growled.

  “You? Did that to them?” She touched her neck.

  “Drake Diamond, I presume,” the older gentleman stated.

  “Sir.” Drake nodded. Tension filled the air. He never befriended the man before, but knew him and his wife from these society weddings and charity events. She liked her lovers young and hot, or so he’d heard. Her husband was neither.

  “Are you sleeping with my wife?” His hands fisted.

  “Hell no!” Could he be more adamant than that? But it did little to change the aggression simmering in the close quarters. “I’m involved. With Heather.” He tacked on the last, praying she’d back him up.

  “He lies,” Heather chimed in, carefully extracting his fingers from her arm. “Not about her. I think. He’s not into the whole dodging and sneaking around thing. Why bother when he can have any single woman he wants?”

  “Including you?” the husband asked.

  An awkward silence blanketed her. “Turned me down.”

  “I regret it.” That much was true. Drake did not want to hurt her; however, he also did not want to push the boundaries of who they were together. Who they were? Together? Drake nearly groaned out loud.

  “You do?” Heather’s voice rose another octave.

  Why did he feel that they waited in high anticipation for the outcome?

  ***

  Heather’s breath stayed trapped in her lungs. She couldn’t possibly be hearing right, could she?

  Drake wanted to save his bacon. And keep his company reputation intact. Nothing more.

  “Well?” the Mrs. prompted him.

  “We’re waiting,” Mr. I’m Fed Up With My Cheating Wife demanded.

  “There’s an understanding.” He sidestepped. His usual charm seemed to fail him.

  Her hopes plummeted to her knees. “Fat chance.” She cleared her clogged throa
t. “Hey, that’s the show, folks. I’m so over this.” With as much dignity as she possessed, Heather inched her knees along the seat to get to the door.

  “No, wait!” Drake’s panicky tone sliced through her. “I want kids someday. You have to know that, Heather.”

  He sounded sincere. That softer, gentler side of him did peek out once in a while, especially when he refused to give up his time with the at-risk teens at the youth center every week. Basketball bonded them. When she stopped by to watch that first time, a Drake he kept hidden appeared. That’s when her heart tugged, hard and sharp.

  “She works for you, Diamond. You could easily pay her off to lie. Prove to me you’re not using her to be a ruse for my wife and you,” the husband challenged, leaning forward.

  “Yes, Drake. Shut up and kiss me,” Heather said, longing to know once and for all that he wasn’t that special one for her.

  Prove me wrong. It’s not you. I don’t want it to be you. Because I know you’ll never really commit and I’ll never get over you.

  “Here?” Drake’s voice rose.

  “Now is a good a time as any,” the husband drawled. “Unless, of course, you’d rather I assume certain things about you and my wife and let my, ahem, friends, deal with—”

  “Nope. Here’s fine.” He shifted on the seat, kneeling on one knee and leaning over the backseat.

  “Her? Seriously, Drake. You and her?” Dominque’s voice rose with a hint of venom in it. “D.W., I think you should have him meet your, ah, friends.”

  Drake stilled, turning slightly to look at the older man, still poised as if to attack him at any moment. “D.W. Shipley?”

  “As in Grant Shipley’s what?” Heather asked, catching on to the name of their client, the overeager, wannabe resort owner. Say no. Please, just say no.