Wilde Brothers

by Bella Court

  Wilde Brothers

  By Bella Court

  Copyright © Bella Court 2015

  The right of Bella Court 2015 to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

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  Chapter One

  She spied with a vicious eye, watching the horror before her. Her eyes stung from the scene that played on.

  John was dressed in the smartest suit the world had ever seen. He swept his hands over his beaming bride's face, lifting away a strand of hair that had fallen across the blushing bride’s cheek.

  Kristen looked on, doing her best to tame the rage inside of her, as she observed the bride’s eyes sparkle with bliss at her brand new husband.

  Kristen Giselle Satou slid the bubbling flute of champagne to her lips, enjoying the feel of the burning sensation as the liquid swept past her tongue and down her slender throat. She swallowed the contents of the glass in one sweep, ignoring the blatant glares from the other guests. Apparently, they were not granting her the respect of lowering their judgmental voices.

  "I can't believe she turned up. Honestly, why is she even here?"

  "I heard John invited her, but you know John, he's so sweet, he probably pities her."

  "Really. I mean, what kind of person would accept the invitation? She's got no dignity whatsoever. She needs to bloody get over it, already."

  Kristen suppressed a bitter laugh at the group of women who stood not too far away from her. The women who she once considered to be her friends were now only petty, gossiping girls who hadn't hesitated to turn on her when she needed their friendship the most.

  Kristen, herself, wasn't too sure why she had decided to attend the wedding of the year. She just knew that she had to see it for herself. Despite it torturing her.

  John looked…good. Too good. His tux set off his dark features perfectly. From his neatly groomed short black hair to his chiseled jaw line and dusky gray eyes, he was the very epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Melissa looked beautiful, her glowing golden blond hair was swept up into a neat chignon, and her bright, blue eyes were surrounded with shadows of gold and black. They looked absolutely perfect with one another, dancing in one another's arms to their first dance.

  John used to be hers.

  When the creamy, beige envelope had arrived at Kristen's apartment, the expected but startling news that her ex-fiancée and former best friend was marrying almost destroyed her.

  Kristen's eyes burned at the reminder of that awful day. The day that she was jilted and betrayed by the two former–most important–people in her life.

  It had been Kristen's wedding day.

  Kristen should have been the one to marry John. They were in love first. That was only fair. John had been Kristen's fiancée, and Melissa had been her best friend. When John proposed, Kristen was the happiest woman in the world. Wedding plans were made. Kristen even flew in Melissa from back home so that she could be the maid of honor. There was no way Kristen could know that introducing Melissa and John would be a moment she would regret for the rest of her life.

  On the big day, Kristen still had no clue to the unspoken chemistry between the two. The secret smiles and longing looks they sent one another when they thought no one was looking. It wasn't until she was at the church, beautifully dressed in her Vera Wang gown, desperately trying to contact her maid of honor that she realized what was wrong. John had jilted her. He left her at the altar. He never appeared. Melissa never appeared…

  Later that day, the two of them had come back. John in his tux, Melissa in her champagne colored gown. Kristen was still waiting at the church, her heart begging that they return and tell her that it was all some sick joke.

  "We're so sorry... It… just happened…"

  She hated them both, and yet she wished she didn't. The opposite of love wasn't hate, it was indifference, and Kristen sorely wished she could feel indifferent about the both of them. But she couldn't. The sting of betrayal still rang in her ears, and she…couldn't make her feelings for John vanish. No matter how much she despised him, she still loved him. And that was why she was attending there wedding.

  "Would you like to dance?"

  Kristen was startled out of her deep thinking by a very tall man. The room had been darkened to create a romantic atmosphere, so it was hard to make out his face. Kristen stood up, and dusted off any imaginary particles on her red dress. The bright, red dress with the plunging neckline.

  "I would love–" Her reply came up short as she looked into the familiar, stormy-gray eyes. Ones so powerful that it made her breath catch in her throat.

  It was John.

  No, it wasn't. It was someone who looked very similar to him. A lot like him, but with small, minute differences that set him apart. Instead of John's short neat, black hair, this man had long, slightly wavy, sexily disheveled hair that fell into those powerful, gray eyes. His jaw-line was slightly more chiseled and sharp than John's. Then there was his aura in general. Whereas John came off as being friendly and outgoing, this man gave off a feeling of power, strength, and coldness.

  This had to be John's brother. Kristen had never met the man because he worked in Japan. But now without a doubt, she knew who he was.

  "To?" He finished the sentence for her with a smirk, as his manly hand came out to take her delicate ones in his own. She wondered if he had watched her like every other male had before. All male heads in the room had turned when she had sauntered into the reception hall. Her red dress was the only one in the room, and its daring, plunging neckline accentuated her curves deliciously. Her hair was loosely tousled into a messy bun, showing off the line and curvature of her back.

  He asked her if she’d like a dance, which she was most pleased to oblige.

  “Wow, your eyes are breathtaking,” he said with confidence. He seemed to not be able to take his eyes away from hers. Kristen had been used to this over the years. Her eyes were almond shaped and Asiatic, but the color was a warm, light, chestnut color, and her skin was fair, which all made her stand out.

  "I'm Connor Wilde," he introduced himself, leading her onto the dance floor. Kristen tried her best to keep her hands from shaking. There was no longer a doubt in her mind of who he was. He was John Wilde's older brother. The prodigal son.

  He was John's role model, the great businessman who traveled all over the world spreading their family's empire since the death of their father. The infamous playboy who slept with a different girl every night, and he certainly had the looks and swagger to back it up. John always spoke of him so highly and now Kristen knew why.

  With firm but gentle hands, he clasped her waist, giving her an encouraging smile. "You know, this is the point in the conversation where you introduce yourself, too," he gently reminded her, a smoldering look in his silvery eyes. With a cock of her eyebrow, she gave him a challenging look to be reckoned with.

  "Think you can handle it after you find out who I am?" Kristen taunted, her lips alluringly soft and beguiling. She spoke low purposely so that he would have to bend closer to hear
her husky voice.

  His gray eyes turned from smoldering to twinkling amusement. Her confidence was intriguing. To wear a red dress gave off the image of passion and confidence. But she didn't just portray the image; she was the image of confidence and sexiness. She had to be today of all days.

  "I think I can handle it,” Connor murmured, the song turning from a slow classical waltz to a more casual and sultry piece. Their hands dropped and he quickly placed both of his hands on either side of her waist, as she entwined hers around his neck, bringing the two closer. People surrounded them on the dance floor, but the both of them were too focused on the game of flirtation.

  Kristen let the knowledge wash over her that Connor wanted her. It was too clear in his eyes that he did. It empowered her, made her feel desirable, washing away the insecurities, and vindictively, she hoped John and Melissa would see this. They'd see that someone still wanted her. And, that she didn't give a damn about either of them, despite the very sad truth that she really did.

  She savored this power she held over Connor, and she gave him a broad grin, knowing the spell would be broken once she told him her name.

  "Kristen Satou."

  She was waiting for it. The look of disgust, the part where he would push her away, and then demand that she leaves. She was waiting for the feeling of desirability to leave her and the familiar feeling of despair and loneliness come rushing back to her. What else could she lose?

  It never came. His eyebrows rose in surprise, and his eyes were dark and clouded, so she couldn't make out how he felt. If anything, he pulled her closer to him, instead.

  Silence.

  Even though the music blared, the dancers were rowdy, and the people were loud, and all she could hear was his silence. They were so close now. She could smell his dark cologne with its lingering oriental notes. She stared at the lapel of his jacket, the pinstripes going vertically, making him look even taller than he was. She immediately felt so small, so pathetic. For the past few weeks, she had been prepping herself for the wedding, making sure that she projected the right image of nonchalance, confidence, and sexiness. Even if inside, she felt broken, rejected, and lonely…she would never let them know this. She would never let John know.

  "I'm so sorry." Connor placed his lips directly on her ear. So this was the infamous Kristen Satou…

  "It must have taken a lot of courage for you to come here,” Connor said softly, enjoying the feel of her playing with the back of his collar, her fingers brushing against the nape of his neck once in a while. Kristen's eyes glanced up, taking in the handsome contours of his face. He looked…so much like John.

  He hadn't pushed her away as she would have expected. With a weak grin, Kristen shrugged.

  "I still care for him."

  Connor's eyes darkened. How could she still care for him? Even though it was his brother, Connor found it hard to believe. John and Melissa had completely screwed her over, but he was glad to see that it hadn't broken her.

  "I guess you're a bigger person than I am. If it were me, there'd be hell to pay. Ever heard of the book, Carrie?"

  Kristen laughed but didn't reply. She glanced over at John. He wasn't looking at her. He was outside the door with Melissa, the two of them laughing and smiling, bidding their guests goodbye. He probably didn't even realize Kristen was there. She shouldn’t have come. She hadn’t expected it to cause he so much pain. She wasn’t strong enough to not care. She’d been fooling herself that she was happy and over it. What was I thinking? Standing on her toes, Kristen buried her face in the crook between Connor's shoulder and neck.

  "Please, just take me out of here." Her voice cracked with emotion, the ache and tumult she had been keeping inside of her finally ripping her apart at the seams.

  Like the true gentlemen he was, Connor left his brother's wedding early to escort Kristen back to her home. She clearly wasn't in the mental state to leave off on her own. And given that he was John's older brother, he felt compelled to clean up the mess his sibling had wrongly inflicted on this stunning woman. He led her to his car.

  "You okay there?" he asked, gently tucking her into the passenger seat of his BMW. The empty look in her eyes disturbed him. A stark difference to ones that was so lively before.

  Kristen mutely nodded, feeling strangely numb. John hadn't noticed she was there. She had walked into the ceremony, making damn sure that she had looked sexy, and all eyes were on her. All eyes except for the one she wanted.

  Connor followed her wooden instructions, not bothering to try and comfort her. Any words that came from his mouth would sound patronizing only be sham pity. He knew for damn sure that was not what she wanted. Pulling up to the ivory building, he was impressed with what he saw. She definitely was no wallflower, waiting for a man to pick her up. The building located on Park Avenue was a definitive sign of a successful woman.

  Pulling the keys out of the ignition, the comforting rumble of the engine came to a halt. Kristen vaguely glanced up at the building, her heart and mind making up her mind. Her door opened abruptly, Connor giving her his hand. Slightly shocked, she took his hand, allowing him to steer her out of his car.

  "Sweet car,” Kristen said vaguely, wondering why she hadn't noticed it earlier. Connor grinned at her, glad to see that she recovered her powers of speech.

  "She's top of the line, the newest model to come out," Connor bragged, running his hands over the black exterior. Kristen stared at him and the obvious pride he had in his car. She could make out his athletic, well-built arm–even through his tux–as he stroked the car. She gave him an alluring smile, her eyes no longer holding that strange blank cast they held before.

  "Thank you for giving me a ride home and leaving your own brother's wedding. That was very…chivalrous of you." Kristen spoke with a confidence she didn't feel. Connor was so handsome, and he looked so much like John…

  "It's not a problem. Get some rest, Kristen." Reaching up, he gently patted her on the head, careful to keep his eyes on her face and not at her displayed assets. She was broken hearted, she would need her space...she didn't need his advances.

  He turned, prepared to walk away, when her hand on his arm stopped him.

  "Wait. You were doing so well up until now. You're not going to man up and walk a girl up to her door?" Kristen teased; her eyes alight with that fire he had seen in her earlier. This was her last chance. She needed something, anything to expel John from her mind…from her heart. She needed a release, and Connor was the perfect man to do that with.

  Connor's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Of course, I'm sorry." Offering his arm, she took it gracefully, sweeping the length of her gown into her free hand. Leading him towards one of the bottom story apartments, she quickly located her key from her clutch and opened the door. A sliver of light snaked its way through the crack, illuminating the two.

  Somehow, the soft lighting managed to make her even more seductive. Standing so close to her, her perfume of black orchids wafted up to him, invading Connor's senses. Her billowy red dress swung away from her skin as a breeze swept past, giving him a preview of the supple, porcelain skin which lay beneath. Coughing uncomfortably, all his physical senses becoming aroused by her, Connor forcibly stepped away. She didn't need this right now, as much as he wanted her. She was heartbroken, upset…she needed her space…even he wouldn't prey on such an anguished soul.

  Kristen licked her lips, watching his discomfort with amusement. He was a good guy, she could tell. He'd brought her home, and now he was hesitant because of her mental state. Well, she would change that.

  "Goodnight, Kristen." Connor's voice was husky, not by choice, but by pure physical arousal.

  "Goodnight,” she whispered in reply, but before he could leave, she ran her hands over the lapel of his jacket with one hand, making circles across his chest. Her other hand reached up behind his neck, and pulled his head down. She stood on her tiptoes to lock her mouth with his, coaxing him out of his shocked state.

  He was too intoxica
ted with her scent to resist. Connor always had a weakness for women who smelled as exotic as she did. Her lips were insistent against his, breaking down every resolution he had made not to touch her. With a soft surrender, he gave in. Pulling her against him, her slim body fit perfectly against his larger one. His hands roamed over her silken curves, and a moan escaped her lips, success blooming in her head.

  Kristen knew it was cruel, to use him this way. But it was just raw sex, he probably didn't care, she reasoned. Pulling her tantalizing lips away from his, she placed her mouth against the outer shell of his ear, her tongue licking and maneuvering, making him push her up against the wall with a moan. His body pressed against hers, letting her know how much he wanted her.

  "What are you doing?" he gasped, slightly out of breath, as her lips pressed soft kisses against the sharp line of his jaw–her hands entangling themselves in his hair.

  "What do you think?" Finding his pulse point, she kissed the sensitive area of his neck.

  "I thought you still love John," Connor moaned, as her lips returned to his.

  "Screw…John...I want…you…to…” she breathed between kisses, her mind and body too aroused to care that she was telling him lies.

  The last of Connor's sensibilities vanished, and before she could finish her sentence, he lifted her up and wrapped her legs around his waist. Through her dress, he caressed her breast, all the while kissing the sensitive area of her collarbone. Kristen threw her head back with a loud moan, as his hand slipped in between her dress to caress the tender flesh that lay beneath. Her mind barely registered that they were still in the hall, and with a throaty voice, she whispered, "Let's go in."

  Obediently, Connor pulled away from the wall, still with her wrapped around him, and he shoved himself into her apartment, refusing to relinquish the tight hold they had on one another. With a slam, the door closed behind them. Through incoherent directions and common sense, he managed to make it into her bedroom. Dropping her gently down onto her bed, he flicked on the soft light of her bedside lamp, savoring the way the light kissed her body.