Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set

by Carly Phillips

  “I can’t be late for that meeting.” She not so subtly changed the topic.

  “School appointment?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “A publisher contacted me through the magazine. They’d like me to consider turning my columns into a self-help type of book.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  She waved away his compliment. “Good thing this shouldn’t take long. Black double-breasted tuxedos, white shirt, wing-tipped shoes and black bow ties and cummerbunds. What could be simpler?”

  “Or more boring.”

  She tilted her head backward and glared up at him. “What is that supposed to mean?” Fire flashed in her dark eyes, an unbelievable contrast to the controlled woman who’d sat with Peter and bartered over wedding arrangements.

  The simmering passion intrigued him, made him want to dig deeper, beyond the exterior to the woman beneath. “Ever hear of color?” He deliberately baited her. “Or do you want the wedding party to resemble the Sunday Times?”

  “Mike...”

  “Sorry. Bridesmaids dresses bring in color, right? What would you pick? Pink?” He shook his head. “Too childish. There’s yellow...”

  “Mike.”

  “Peach.”

  “Mike.”

  “Or my personal favorite, purple.” He eyed her intently. “Which is it?”

  “White.”

  He groaned aloud. “Your choice?” he asked. Not a chance in hell. Behind those rigid lists and schedules lurked a woman brimming with passion and fire. He’d bet his favorite camera on it.

  More than once he’d ignited sparks in those expressive brown eyes. Sparks he’d yet to notice between Carly and her fiancé. His brother, he harshly reminded himself. “White,” he muttered, shaking his head.

  “Not my choice exactly. I wasn’t sure. Peter wanted elegant, my mother wanted formal, so we...”

  “Compromised,” he finished for her. “It’s a good thing you’re so compliant.”

  “You make me sound like a well-behaved pet. Are you looking to start trouble?”

  Looking for trouble? No. Looking for a glimpse of the untapped sensuality that sizzled beneath the conservative facade? Definitely. “Of course not,” he said.

  “Good. I just pick my battles carefully.”

  “I’ll remember that. It’s just...” He shook his head. “Never mind. None of my business.”

  Her eyes narrowed with distrust... and a slight spark? “What?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  “This is your wedding, right?”

  “Stupid question.”

  “Is it? For someone loaded down with wedding books and bridal pictures you’re giving up control of some major issues.” He reached for her, covering her ice-cold hand with his warmer one. He gazed into her eyes. The spark erupted into a flame of unchecked desire.

  His thumb brushed over her third finger, avoiding the large diamond ring that looked so out of place on her delicate hand. Traitorous desires consumed his body while conflicting emotions swirled inside his head. The pad of his thumb traced a pattern just above her knuckle, where her wedding band would sit. “Think about it,” he murmured.

  She shot him a look that could freeze hot coffee and wrenched her hand free from his.

  “Miss Wexler?” a salesman greeted her. The rush of high-school students disappeared out the door, taking the loud laughs and boisterous shouts along with them. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “That’s okay.” She stood, obviously grateful for the interruption.

  “If you and your fiancé are ready to get started...” Mike remained standing against the wall and glanced at Carly.

  She fingered her bangs, a nervous gesture he found awfully endearing. And sweet. The woman would never hold her own in a game of poker, but at least he’d never be left guessing about her true feelings.

  “He’s not my fiancé,” she finally said.

  “Future brother-in-law.” The label grated. Mike forced a smile and shook the other man’s hand.

  “Are we waiting for the groom?”

  “No. We can start with the best man. Peter will be here soon,” Carly said.

  Wisely, Mike didn’t touch that statement. Ten minutes later he stood in front of a full-length mirror, decked out in formal attire. “Jacket’s too tight,” he said, rolling his bad shoulder to alleviate the discomfort. He’d deal with the bow-tie issue later.

  “We have a tailor downstairs.” The salesman brushed a hand across the back of the jacket.

  Carly swallowed hard. The material rippled over Mike’s broad shoulders. She clenched her hands into tight fists but the gesture didn’t alleviate the need to touch him. Nor did it lessen the painful knot in her stomach.

  The salesman continued to speak, drawing her attention back to tuxedos and tailoring. “Needs some alterations, but nothing major. If you folks will excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

  Carly walked around Mike, scrutinizing the snug fit of the material and trying not to imagine the lean, hard body beneath the tailored clothing. “It suits you.”

  He shrugged. “I’m more comfortable in jeans and work boots.”

  He looked sexy in either. “More comfortable for the jungle, huh?”

  She took two steps backward. “What would you change... presuming the choice was yours?”

  “For starters, this would have to go.” He reached up and untied the black bow tie, tossing it onto the nearest chair. “Then this.” He unbuttoned the conservative jacket and flung it aside. The black cummerbund followed.

  Carly barely had time to assimilate his intent when he began to unbutton his shirt. “Now hang on a second.”

  He grinned but didn’t stop removing his clothes. “You asked.”

  She watched in silence as he shed the shirt baring a tanned chest, muscular forearms and a flat stomach. Without warning a wave of desire overcame common sense and her body reacted. The knot in her stomach tightened almost painfully, making her more aware of him than she had been before. If such a thing was possible.

  He stood in front of her clad only in black trousers while she did her best to remain composed despite the rapid beating of her heart. “What next?” she managed to ask.

  An irreverent gleam sparkled in his eyes, which appeared more golden than hazel, and held her in thrall.

  “Don’t answer that,” she muttered.

  “Close your eyes.”

  Carly did as he asked, hoping to find a respite from the newly awakened sexual feelings this man aroused. But her imagination failed to cooperate. Mike’s tanned chest, well-muscled arms and overall powerful physique had been forever imprinted in her mind.

  She heard the rustle of clothing and a few colorful curses before he finally spoke. “Open those beautiful eyes and tell me what you think.”

  Looking every inch the rebel, Mike’s new outfit blatantly defied convention. His black European tuxedo jacket sported a shawl collar. In place of the old tuxedo shirt he now wore a white collarless one, buttoned to the top. The lavender cummerbund distinguished him from the typical attorney look Carly was used to.

  “I told you purple was my favorite.” He grinned. “So what do you think?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t come. Considering the thoughts rampaging around her brain, perhaps that was just as well. A little wild, a little sexy and a lot she desired. Beyond that Carly couldn’t think at all.

  “Your shirt’s crooked.” She walked up to him and stood on tiptoe. Her fingers gripped the front of the shirt. She drew a deep breath, only to find she’d made another mistake. His cologne, an enticing scent she’d recently come to know, seeped inside her.

  She’d dreamed of this scent. Of him.

  “Carly.”

  She glanced up, meeting his gaze. Now darkened by unmistakable need, his eyes turned a deeper shade of gold, and she felt drawn into the compelling depths. Unnerved, her fingers began to tremble.

  He rested his warm hand on her waist. If he’d meant to st
eady her, his touch had the opposite effect and a tremor shot through her. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

  He drew her close. Their bodies never connected, but something else did. His fingers tightened around her waist and the heat of his body wrapped her in warmth. Passion flared to life inside her. As if she could feel the imprint of his arousal against her skin, she ached for fulfillment. For him. Her hips jerked forward without her permission.

  “Easy,” he whispered, but his hold on her waist tightened.

  In the back of her mind she heard the gentle tinkling of bells. Is this what she’d always feared? What she’d been so ingrained to distrust? Her father’s love affair had destroyed so many lives. Carly had learned early that protestations of love couldn’t be trusted and passion could only lead to disaster. But with Mike’s arms wrapped firmly around her waist, the lessons of her parents’ past seemed far away.

  “Sorry I’m late, but a client showed up unexpectedly from the West Coast.”

  “Peter.” With a startled gasp, Carly wrenched herself from Mike’s embrace and turned to face her fiancé. “I was just...” She groped for an explanation and settled on the truth. “Crooked shirt,” she said, gesturing toward Mike. Even as she spoke, she struggled to get hold of her emotions.

  “I’m glad you started without me, but...” Peter’s gaze darted to Mike. Seconds passed during which she held her breath before Peter turned back to face her. “I thought we agreed on conventional.”

  She exhaled, relieved that all seemed normal. Although she wondered if anything would ever be right again. But for now, with Peter focused on getting the “right look” and then heading back to the office, Carly realized that everything was truly fine. She was safe. For now.

  She glanced at her fiancé. He studied his brother and shook his head. “With all the business associates who will be there, this won’t work.”

  For the first time since planning her wedding, Carly vacillated—between the old need to make Peter happy and a sudden desire to please Mike. Between her old, compliant self and this unfamiliar woman with desires she didn’t recognize.

  “This was a joke, Pete.” Mike grinned and tugged at the purple cummerbund. “I was just killing time.”

  Stark relief etched Peter’s face. Carly turned away and mouthed a silent “thank you” in Mike’s direction. His mouth tightened, but he nodded imperceptibly.

  She inhaled and forced much needed air back into her lungs. Crisis averted, she thought, as Mike scooped up the original clothing and ducked inside the dressing room to change.

  She ought to have felt relieved. So why did she feel so empty instead?

  * * *

  “That’s it.” Carly reached for the purse she’d hung over the side of the full-length mirror. She desperately needed fresh air and time alone.

  “Don’t forget dinner tomorrow night with your parents,” Peter reminded her. “Your father wants to meet my brother.” He turned to Mike. “And with the way your plans change, this might be his last chance for a while.”

  Carly caught her breath and pivoted on her heel. “I thought you were staying the month until the wedding.” To her dismay she hadn’t kept the hint of panic from creeping into her voice.

  Mike smiled, a warm, engaging smile, not the boyish grin he’d treated her to earlier. It was almost as if he knew she sought reassurance and wanted to relax her. But that was silly. “I am,” he said with certainty. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

  “Oh.” She swiped at her bangs. “Well then, I’d better get going. I can’t afford to be late.” She leaned forward and brushed a kiss on Peter’s cheek.

  She dared a brief glance at Mike. His penetrating gaze met hers. “ ‘Bye,” she whispered before heading for the door.

  The tinkling of bells echoed long after she’d left. “Well,” Mike said, turning toward his brother. “This trip home has been extremely interesting.”

  “How so?”

  “I never thought I’d see the day you’d trade your freedom for a white picket fence.”

  Peter opened the top button on his white, starched shirt and tucked his paisley tie into his jacket pocket. “People change.”

  “Not that much. I thought you had one thing in mind: the fast track toward partnership.”

  Pete grinned. “I’m doing just that.”

  Which is what had Mike worried. “You’re sure about this marriage?”

  “Absolutely. Look, sometimes in life you compromise to get what you want. Carly and I get along well. She understands that business is important to me.”

  “She’s something, all right” Mike muttered. He’d touched her and she’d nearly come apart in his arms. The memory still lingered, teasing his tenuous restraint. Even in passion she radiated innocence, something lacking in his jaded life. “How’d you two meet?” he asked his brother.

  “At a dinner honoring her father. She’s been a good friend for the last few years.”

  Not an easy feat where his uptight self-absorbed brother was concerned. “I know it’s none of my business, but is that a reason to get married?”

  Pete sighed. “She’s looking for a little stability, a happy home life, kids and her career. She’ll have those things with me.”

  Mike watched his kid brother fidget the way he’d done after accidentally breaking the porch light with his baseball. Looking to protect him from their uncle’s wrath, Mike had taken the blame and the punishment. And Peter had let him. Mike had a hunch that given the chance, Pete would still take the easy way out. “And what are you getting out of this... arrangement?”

  “She’s a sweet woman, Mike.”

  Tell me something I don’t know. “And would her father being senior partner have something to do with this sudden urge to say ‘I do?’ ”

  “Doesn’t hurt,” he admitted. “Lately new partnerships are rare. Even the most outstanding associates have been passed over. Things should return to normal with an economic upswing like this firm experienced this last year.”

  “So Carly’s added insurance.” Mike couldn’t suppress a groan.

  “It’s not like that.” Pete gestured toward the door, and Mike followed his brother out to the street. The summer heat drifted up from the pavement. Mike broke into a sweat before they’d reached the corner.

  “Do you love her?”

  “No.” Pete didn’t hesitate before answering. “Not like you mean. But she’s not in love with me either.” He shrugged. “We have a mutual respect for one another, though, and that’s more than a lot of married couples can say. I do care about her, Mike.”

  Not liking the matter-of-fact way Pete laid out what should have been emotional feelings, Mike clenched his fists at his sides. “You’re something else, Pete.”

  “We’re both adults and we understand each other.”

  So Carly had said. Mike didn’t like the picture he’d gotten of this relationship, but their lives weren’t his concern. As long as he repeated the mantra and believed it, he’d be fine. “Okay then, I’ll drop the subject.”

  “I’ll probably work late to make up for lost time this afternoon.” Pete grinned. “So you’re on your own for cold pizza. Unless...”

  “I ate it this morning.”

  Pete groaned. Mike shrugged; he’d eaten a lot worse in much worse conditions. He pushed the encroaching memories aside. He glanced at his kid brother. “Hey, let me know how Carly’s meeting with the publisher went.”

  Pete lifted an eyebrow. “What meeting?”

  “Forget it. I must have misunderstood,” Mike said, sensing that he’d understood perfectly. It was Carly and Pete who had yet to catch on.

  “You’ll be at dinner tomorrow?” his brother asked.

  “To meet your boss?” His brother’s future in-laws. Carly’s parents. “Sure.”

  “Great. That means a lot.” Peter turned toward the street and then back to Mike. “One more thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m training a new associate and my ti
me is even more limited than before. If Carly needs any help planning or anything... would you be there?”

  Mike hesitated, knowing time with Carly was dangerous for them both. Then again, his brother needed a favor, and Mike could use the distraction from dealing with his own unsettled life. Since his return, Mike had had too much free time to think. “No sweat.”

  “Thanks.” Pete smiled and Mike knew he’d made the right decision. Time to discover whether these two were headed for disaster had nothing to do with his sudden agreement.

  His brother hailed an empty cab. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me, too, Pete.” But he hoped his brother didn’t live to regret that sentiment.

  However different Pete and Carly turned out to be, Mike had no right to interfere. The sooner Carly planned and executed this wedding, the better for everyone involved.

  Especially Mike.

  * * *

  “A book contract. Carly Wexler, I am impressed.”

  “Glad you took a shot on a rookie?” Carly asked the editor of her column.

  Juliette Parsons leaned forward in her seat, hands clasped in front of her on the age-worn desk. “I’ve been glad since day one.”

  “Me, too.” And Carly wasn’t just talking about her job. Since the day she’d hired on as an intern at the magazine, Juliette had taken her under her wing. Professionally she treated Carly to stern lectures on proper writing technique. And Carly had turned to Juliette for personal advice far more than she’d ever allowed herself to turn to her own mother.

  She sat down on the futon couch in Juliette’s office. Among her other qualities, Juliette was a bit of an eccentric. Juliette pressed the intercom on her phone. “Herbal tea, Stacey. Two, please.” Then she joined Carly on the couch. “So tell me what Peter said.”

  Carly bit down on her lip. “About what?”

  Her friend’s blue eyes opened wide. “You haven’t told him?”

  “I thought I’d surprise him with the news.”

  “Ahh. He must be on pins and needles waiting to hear. If he can tear himself away from his office,” Juliette muttered almost under her breath.