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Never Say Love (Never Say Never #1)

Page 2

by Carly Phillips


  In the years since, Nate had clung whole-heartedly to that anti-marriage vow, throwing himself into a string of emotionless relationships—and thanks to the press and the damn gossip mill, he was a well-known playboy. It hadn’t been hard to stay true to the promise, the image, not when the only woman he wanted was out of reach. And he knew he’d never give in to love, not while he had breath in his lungs. He couldn’t. His fear of the long term was too shaky, his lack of trust in women too ingrained.

  But that didn’t mean he couldn’t wait to see Ellie Marshall again.

  * * *

  Closing the door behind her with more force than necessary, Eleanor Marshall tossed her duffel bag to the floor and flopped face first onto the hotel room bed.

  “Ow!” She quickly sat up again, rubbing her cheek and adjusting her plastic framed glasses.

  The bed, while wide, was hard as a rock, the duvet the color of a bruised peach and made of cheap synthetic material that pulled at the skin.

  “Figures,” Ellie muttered as she pulled off her eyeglasses and rubbed at her temples.

  This day had gone wrong from the start.

  Running a hand tentatively over the cheap bedspread, she contemplated ‘accidentally’ sleeping through her brother Chase’s rehearsal dinner… and she was only half joking.

  “Come on, Ellie. Order some coffee, brush your hair, and get dressed. You have sisterly duties tonight.” After everything it had taken to get to the small town of Ruby Beach, in Washington’s Olympic National Park, she was damn well going to paste on a smile and wish Chase and Meredith well.

  Even if her own love life had crashed and burned, quite spectacularly, at eight forty-two that morning. A glutton for punishment, Ellie worked her iPhone out of the pocket of her wool pants. She already knew what the words said—had read them over every time she’d had a chance throughout the day—but she still couldn’t help doing it one more time.

  TEXT:

  To: Dr. Eleanor Marshall

  From: Dr. Miles Karim

  Message: Ellie, I need some space. I think we both know this isn’t working. I feel like we’ve been together for years… and we’ve only been dating for five months. I need some excitement, both in and out of the bedroom, and despite our many talks on the subject, it’s not getting any better. Sorry to break things off this way, but I made the decision last night, and thought it was best to let you know right away.

  He needed some excitement, both in and out of the bedroom. Right. Dark clouds of frustration and the requisite tears welled up as Ellie read the text yet again. She’d tried to make things good between them… especially in the bedroom.

  Miles had been good-looking enough, with tasty golden skin, dark mocha eyes, thick black hair, and a health club fit body. Despite all that, he’d never been able to make her feel more than lukewarm between the sheets, and though she’d wanted more—so much more—her body hadn’t responded in kind.

  “Argh!” Standing, Ellie grabbed one of the hideous fringed pillows from the head of the bed and hurled it across the room.

  There. That felt a little better.

  She was not frigid, damn it.

  Nor was this breakup all her fault. She was smart, wasn’t she? She was a well-respected optometrist who had run her own successful Seattle practice for the last three years. She was responsible. Though she didn’t typically work on Friday afternoons, an elderly patient had called her emergency line right after she’d closed for the day, complaining about seeing a bright flash of light followed by a curtain across her vision. The symptoms indicated a potential retinal detachment, something that needed to be treated right away, and though Ellie had needed to get on the road for the wedding, she’d taken a look before referring the patient for an emergency appointment with an ophthalmologist.

  She wasn’t some weak, whiny woman, either. She was capable. When her car had broken down on the freeway five miles from the lodge, she hadn’t gone into hysterics. She had simply sighed, called Triple A, then, with a glance at the ever forward-moving minute hand of her watch, had slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and hiked the rest of the way. Her sensible shoes had finally served a purpose.

  Smart. Responsible. Capable. Yep, there was a recipe for an exciting woman in the bedroom.

  “No. I’m better than this.” Swiping a sweaty lock of hair back from her damp forehead, Ellie allowed herself one last, long sigh. Then she hauled her duffel bag onto the bed and, unzipping the roll-up compartment at the bottom, pulled out the swath of nude colored silk so she could get ready for the rehearsal dinner.

  Her dress for the evening wasn’t her usual style at all—but her soon to be sister-in-law had purchased it for Ellie especially for this occasion. It would be rude to refuse the bride’s present simply because it made her feel naked. So she could add polite to her list of attributes.

  Unfastening her work pants, Ellie let them fall to the floor, then kicked them aside. She fisted the hunter green of her wool sweater and tugged it up over her head. The whoosh of air felt fantastic on her sweat-dampened skin—she was in shape, but it had been a long, hot walk in her work clothes from her car to the lodge.

  “Hmm.” Looking down at the creamy white camisole and bikini briefs that she had on, she surveyed herself critically.

  She was curvy, always had been, but what woman didn’t wish that her ass was a bit smaller, or her stomach a bit flatter? And Miles had been attracted to her. She had the right equipment, even if she was more comfortable with it hidden beneath sweater sets and loose trousers. She might not be feeling great about herself at the moment, but she was attractive and the dress on the bed would show a lot of her ample cleavage. Enough of it to find someone to have one night of hot, sweaty sex with?

  She blinked, surprised at the path her thoughts had taken … but why not?

  What better way to soothe her bruised ego? Her brother had lots of single friends, lots of decent looking coworkers who would be at the wedding tonight.

  “Yes.” Biting her lip, Ellie made her decision before she could over think it. A one-night stand.

  She was going to do it.

  Suddenly a face flashed through her memory, one with dark hair, charcoal eyes, and a sexy smirk. Her brother’s best friend Nate, who she’d harbored a crush on since her teenage years. But just as quickly as the notion popped into her head, she shoved it right back out. Nathan Archer was a millionaire, a tycoon now. And if the tabloids and her brother were to be believed, he was still one hell of a player. He dated supermodels and actresses. She might not have low self esteem, but she wasn’t stupid, and tonight she was feeling fragile. It wasn’t the time to set herself up for failure.

  Her iPhone vibrated on the dresser across the room, the alarm she’d set for five-thirty chiming. She flicked it off. She had half an hour to make herself presentable and to get from the “charming” overflow lodge she’d gotten stuck in, to the beautiful hotel where the festivities were actually being held. As the sister of the groom, she could have easily had a room at the luxurious Ruby Beach Lodge down the road… if she had bothered to pay attention to the booking dates.

  Ruby Beach was a small town, and it was full up with wedding guests. In the end, she’d been able to find nothing else but this place. Not even her parents or her brother had been able to help get her a room at the wedding hotel. She was lucky to at least have a place to sleep.

  She removed her dress from its protective plastic, and laid it out on the bedspread. Bending at the waist, Ellie opened the back zipper of her dress. Strapless, it had a boned corset-like bodice that splayed into a sensual flare of lace and chiffon ending at her knees. Studying it, Ellie felt a tremor run through her at the thought of feeling so … exposed. Squaring her shoulders, she prepared herself mentally to don the sexy garment. After all, the nearly sheer dress would help her on her mission. One night of steamy, no holds barred sex.

  “Frigid this, Miles,” she said, reaching out a hand for the dress.

  A sound at the door had h
er whirling around, clutching the dress to her scantily clad body. Before she had more than a second to gather her thoughts, the door swung open and she let out a startled shriek.

  One that was cut off as a male intruder entered the room, a garment bag slung over his arm.

  At a glance, she pegged him as tall, dark-haired, and gorgeous.

  He froze in his tracks when he spotted her. “What the hell?” His voice was rough, like the burn of whiskey, and tickled at her memory.

  Though it had been years, she placed him immediately. Speak of the devil.

  Last time she’d seen him, he’d had shaggy hair and a bad boy vibe that made the high school girls drop their panties with one look. At least, that’s what the rumors and the girls had claimed. And though he still had the bad boy look to him, now he dressed in a black business suit that fit his mouth-watering body like it had been tailor-made for him, which, from what she knew about his large empire, it probably had.

  Standing in the doorway, as if her thoughts had conjured him, was Nathan Archer, her childhood crush. A tattooed badass who’d made something of himself with a lucrative chain of trendy boutique hotels. The sexy-as-sin playboy, known for his revolving door of women, stood in her room, exuding sex appeal and looking as perplexed as she felt at the moment.

  Okay, maybe not quite as perplexed, because he definitely looked her up and down, taking note of the fact that she was almost naked.

  What was he doing here?

  She opened her mouth to ask him exactly that—but he beat her to it.

  “Ellie Marshall? What are you doing here?” Those storm gray eyes swept over her again, and since the dress she was holding up in front of her was so skimpy, there was still plenty of it to see.

  His eyes heated as they slid over the creamy expanse of her exposed skin. Even with her glasses off and being hopelessly near-sighted, she couldn’t miss the flush that rose to his cheeks.

  She blinked, processing the fact that Nate Archer had noticed her as a full-blooded woman, looking like he wanted to eat her alive.

  And she wanted to let him. She always had.

  * * *

  Nate had had a hell of a long drive from Seattle, for a trip he didn’t want to make, for a wedding he had no desire to attend. To top it all off, he’d arrived in town only to discover that his new secretary—make that his former secretary—had accidentally booked him a dingy hellhole instead of the luxurious Ruby Beach Lodge, where the wedding was taking place, and there were no other rooms available in the entire area.

  With the beginnings of a migraine coming on, he’d walked into his room and discovered the woman who had been haunting his thoughts since the wedding invitation had arrived—Ellie Marshall. A barely dressed Ellie Marshall. His imagination had paled in comparison to reality. She was all grown up, and she was fucking gorgeous.

  Stepping further into the room, Nate dropped his hand-tooled leather suitcase and tried to keep his eyes on her face. It wasn’t easy—though she still had flyaway hair and wasn’t wearing a lick of makeup, it was all too easy to see that Ellie’s teenage plumpness had settled into curves in all the right places. Places that were pretty visible because she was wearing nothing but innocent white panties, a camisole, and some scrap of flimsy fabric clutched to her very nice breasts.

  He’d always been able to keep his feelings for Ellie on the back burner, simmering but never bursting into full flame. But they’d never been adults, alone in a hotel room, and as he met her gaze, the connection that had always existed between them snapped into place, making it feel like the universe had thrown them together on purpose.

  But, he reminded himself, nothing had changed. She was off limits and always had been. He’d come a long way from his own beginnings, but a sweet, innocent woman like Ellie was meant for better men than him. Which meant he had to fix this mix-up … yesterday. But first he had to figure out why she was here.

  “Well? What are you doing in my room?” he asked again, this time harsher than he’d intended. But what could he do other than deflect, when he was sporting a hard-on he didn’t want to her to notice?

  She was his best friend’s little sister. He’d snapped the strap of her first bra, for heaven’s sake. Now he was straining to make his cock behave as he thought about filling his hands with the rosy breasts he’d caught only a glimpse of but wanted to see more.

  “For your information, you are in my room. You can’t just walk into other people’s rooms while they’re half naked!”

  He held up his hands in self-defense. “This is my room, or the key the front desk gave me wouldn’t have opened the door.”

  Ellie reached for an ugly wool sweater that lay on the bed beside her and held it up against her chest as added coverage, too. But not before the movement made her generous breasts jiggle, causing Nate to think feverishly of ice. Lots and lots of ice.

  “Okay, obviously there’s been a mistake. And it’s nice to see you and all, but I have had a really shitty day, and I have to put on this excuse of a dress for the rehearsal dinner. I don’t have much time.” Her eyes sparkled with tears that she was trying ferociously to hold back and he groaned.

  All he wanted was a hot shower and a glass of Jack on ice. Was that too much to ask? Obviously yes, because he found himself faced with a woman on the edge of a breakdown, instead. One whose day had clearly been as stressful as his. The media might love to play up his heartbreaker status, but no way was he going to force a female with teary puppy dog eyes out into the hallway.

  “Room forty-two. Reservation was in my name. No problems checking in. You?”

  Ellie blinked and shook her head. “No problems for me either. Obviously. And I was here first.” She met his gaze.

  As he looked down into her wide cornflower eyes, he caught a flash of heat in the blue depths. The ribbon of space between them seemed to shrink and he knew that he wasn’t the only one feeling this spiraling sexual attraction. Transfixed, he watched as her cheeks flushed and her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. The messy blond hair and wide-eyed expression turned her sex kitten body into a lethal combination of cute and hot. Not his usual type, but then, wasn’t that why Ellie had always been special to him?

  Down, Archer, he warned himself.

  Swallowing thickly, Nate cleared his throat. They hadn’t stood this close together since that morning he’d left for college. But this… this was entirely different. She was all grown up now. And, since Chase couldn’t see inside his head, Nate could admit that not only was she beautiful, but he wanted her. Badly.

  Bending awkwardly at the waist, Ellie picked up her iPhone, unlocking it while keeping her eyes on Nate. “There’s obviously been a mix-up. I’ll call—oh, shit! It’s so late!”

  Dropping the phone—and the clothing she’d been using as a shield, Ellie bent to paw frantically through her bag, finally pulling out a pair of strappy heeled sandals and a small beaded purse. “Could this day get any worse?”

  Blowing air out slowly, Nate squeezed his eyes shut against the breasts offered up to his eyes by the skimpy camisole and Ellie’s bent position. At that moment, he didn’t care what the hell had happened to the room, he just needed her to put some clothes on before he lost his mind.

  “Here’s the plan.” His cock was threatening to stand at full attention, so Nate grabbed his suitcase, heaved it on top of the dresser, and made a show of sorting through it. “You do whatever it is you females do to get ready for things like this. I’ll get dressed out here. We’ll stop by the front desk on our way to the dinner and get this sorted.”

  Behind him, he heard an inelegant snort and looked over his shoulder to see Ellie’s panty-clad ass scurrying to the bathroom.

  Despite his amusement and accompanying grin, his cock hardened further at the wiggle of her hips, and he cursed under his breath. “You have something to say, Blondie?” The nickname he’d called her in their teens fell from his lips easily, as if the long years since then had disappeared.

  Closing the doo
r all but a crack, Ellie poked her head back out, her lips schooled into a smirk.

  “I’m sure you’re quite acquainted with ‘us females’ in general.” As she disappeared behind the closed door, Nate frowned at the comment.

  He’d had his share of women, true enough—but he was nowhere near the playboy that the tabloids liked to portray him as.

  Okay, maybe he was.

  What the hell did it matter what Ellie thought if he couldn’t have her?

  Fuck. Shedding his suit and tie, he set them aside and drew his jeans up over his hips, adjusting his cock inside his black briefs so that his arousal would be less noticeable. The denim was a dark wash and had been expensive too, but at least they were comfortable. He spent enough of his time in suits—and he’d be in a tux for the entire wedding—so tonight he was going for casual.

  Chase’s mother, who had never approved of him, would shake her head, but he’d never given a damn what she thought of him.

  He still didn’t.

  But he wondered what Ellie would think of his less than formal attire. She hadn’t mentioned a date—and he sure couldn’t be hers—but he was forced to admit that what she thought of him, what she saw with those big eyes, mattered. More than it should have.

  The bathroom door opened and Ellie emerged, dropping her sandals to the floor so she could step into them.

  One glance and Nate was struck dumb. “Blondie. Wow.”

  He couldn’t stop himself from looking—the woman was absolutely spectacular. Her hair was up in a messy bun, leaving her creamy shoulders bare. Her face was only slightly touched with makeup—something shiny on her lips, her lashes long and sooty, and her skin looked just as it always did, clear and fresh and innocent. He found it infinitely more attractive than the layers of makeup that most women in his social circle always buried themselves under.

 

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