One-Click Buy: June 2009 Harlequin Blaze

by Tori Carrington

  As Dev had on that day weeks ago, he kissed the spot where her neck joined her shoulder and drew his tongue in circles over the skin.

  “You’re not going to—Ouch! What are you doing?”

  “Leaving you a love bite to think of me. When your mother sees it, she will be satisfied that her daughter has made a good marriage, and my mother will be happy she has raised a virile son.”

  “That is not how virility is proved,” Anji said primly.

  “I’ll get around to the other way momentarily.” He sucked on her shoulder.

  “Stop that! Where have you gotten these ideas?”

  “The Kama Sutra is big on biting and marking and scratching with the nails.”

  “You read the Kama Sutra?” She giggled. She couldn’t help it. “Dev, you silly man.”

  He gave her a look that made her reconsider her choice of words. “Our friends have a similar sense of humor. We’ve received eight copies as gifts.”

  “Eight?”

  “Seven from the doctors I work with, who obviously believe I have spent my entire adult life buried in textbooks, and one from Jenny.”

  “My Jenny?”

  Dev looked irritated. “She was serious, too. Apparently she felt that you had waited such a long time, I had better be fabulous in the sack. She highlighted certain sections for me.”

  “She did not.”

  “I was joking about the highlighting, but she did inscribe it with ‘Real men read the instruction manual.’”

  Anji had to tread very carefully here. “Dev, I’m sure you didn’t need to read the Kama Sutra.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. There’s an informative section on courtesans.”

  “Which you will never need. Just remember, you are the man who seduced me with nothing more than words, and enslaved me with only kisses and caresses.” Using their reflection as a guide, Anji raised her arm and rested her hand on the back of Dev’s neck.

  Guiding him down toward her, she turned her head and kissed him.

  At the same time, he smoothed his palms over her rib cage and covered her breasts.

  Anji reacted immediately with a need so strong she felt it throbbing between her legs. She’d anticipated this moment for weeks and it was as though her desire had never cooled, but had remained banked, always in the background and ready to flare into life.

  It had flared, all right. With a groan, she clasped the backs of Dev’s thighs and rubbed her bottom against his hard length.

  Dev froze.

  And…and his hard length became not so hard. Or so long.

  Anji had dealt with this problem in her patients, but she suspected Dev was not dealing with a medical issue.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Then don’t.” She turned to face him.

  “I might not be able to help it since no one—” he smiled faintly “—has gone through your ‘portal of love’ before.”

  “Oh, Dev.” Smiling, she looped her arms around his neck. “There will be no crying or bloody sheets for you to hang over the balcony to display to the villagers.”

  He chuckled as she’d meant for him to.

  “I’m twenty-nine years old. I’ve had many physical exams and have worn tampons for years. You don’t need to come at me like a battering ram when the door is unlocked.” She kissed him and felt him swell against her once more.

  “The door may be unlocked, but I’m going to grease the hinges.” Dev picked her up and carried her over to the bed. Setting her on it, he captured her wrists and held them above her head. Starting at her forehead, he kissed and nibbled and licked his way down her body.

  Anji had been so matter-of-factly confident. She was an idiot. There was a huge difference between books and experience. Where in the books did it say that her body would move on its own? That she would speak a mix of pleading babble and guttural moans?

  That she would bite him on the shoulder?

  Well, that might have been in the Kama Sutra.

  She licked at the mark and felt him tremble. When he raised his head, she saw that he’d been laughing.

  “Anji, I am so glad that you chose me for your husband,” he told her. “And I must tell you something.” His expression became very tender. “I love you, my wife. We’ve been married three days and have yet to spend a night together, but I would not wish to go through life without you.”

  “Nor I, you.” Anji brushed his dark hair away from his forehead. “I knew you were my husband when you took my hand the day we met. But I knew I loved you when you gave me sleep as a gift.”

  He grinned. “Just so you know, there isn’t going to be much sleep for you tonight.”

  “Just so you know, I had a long nap on the plane.” Anji surprised him by pushing him onto his back and settling herself on top of him. “And that I believe in a modern marriage where the wife shoulders her share in the bedroom.”

  To demonstrate, Anji gave him a deep, openmouthed kiss, using her tongue in a suggestive rhythm.

  Dev splayed his hands on her hips and thrust against her, matching the rhythm she set.

  They’d banked their desire for so long, they could wait no longer. Anji dragged her mouth away and rolled onto her back. Dev covered her body with his and settled between her legs, holding her face, kissing her and whispering a lot of nonsensical love words.

  When Dev, with a gentle and exquisite slowness, joined them at last, Anji sobbed her relief before an explosive pleasure shook them both.

  Afterward, they gazed into each other’s eyes knowing they were joined together not only in this life, but all future lives.

  1

  UNINHIBITED

  CARA BRANTLEY STARED at her reflection in the dressing-room mirror. This veil wasn’t right, either. Why was it so hard to decide on a piece of tulle she’d wear on her head?

  What was the matter with her?

  She’d tried on dozens of bridal gowns. She’d tortured poor Elizabeth Gray, who had never indicated the slightest annoyance at spending hours and hours helping her into and out of dresses and putting up with Cara’s mother and friends. So Cara had chosen a dress just to be done with it. An expensive dress. And it was a stunning dress. She looked good in it and at least Elizabeth would make a hefty profit and her relieved mother had let the poor videographer go home. But had she “known” it was “her” dress? No. She’d faked it.

  Everyone, even Elizabeth, told her she would “know” when she put on the right one. Just the way they told her she’d know when it was true love.

  Most of the time she thought she knew.

  But not all the time.

  People said her doubts were normal. They said it was the stress of the wedding. Marriage was a big step. Her life would change forever. Having a few qualms was not only normal, it was healthy.

  So why couldn’t she at least find the right veil?

  She heard a burst of male laughter. Dallas and his groomsmen were getting fitted next door, which was why Cara was here today. Just in case there were questions.

  Other than hers.

  Ripping off the veil, Cara followed the laughter into the same fitting room where she had selected a wedding dress. Someone else’s clothes were still hanging on the elegant ivory satin-padded hangers. Cara looked around, but didn’t see a spare bride nearby. She was probably with the alterations seamstresses.

  “Pink?” she heard through the wall. “Dal, you are so whipped.”

  “Why?” Cara’s fiancé asked. “Pink doesn’t bother me. I’m secure in my manhood, Tyrone.”

  There was another round of laughter.

  “Pink looks good on you, Ty.” That was Marcus, another of Dallas’s fraternity brothers. “Makes your skin really ‘pop.’”

  Cara laughed along with the rest of them.

  “I don’t need my skin to do any ‘popping.’ I just wanna finish getting measured and get me some of that beer.”

  Ty’s voice faded as he left the fitting room.


  Hmm. That didn’t sound good. On the other hand, was it really all that different from Cara and her bridesmaids drinking champagne?

  Seconds later, Cara heard a howl that made her jump.

  “This isn’t the same color you’re wearing!” Tyrone was back.

  “I’m the groom,” Dallas replied.

  “What about the color he’s wearing? That’s no pansy-ass pink. You can barely tell it’s pink.”

  “Austin is the best man.”

  Or was that the better man?

  Cara crushed the tulle in her hands as Ty complained. Austin was the reason she was feeling so uncertain.

  Dallas Varnell and his identical twin brother, Austin, were so different in personality, no one had trouble telling them apart.

  People were drawn to Dallas. She was drawn to Dallas. When she’d known both during college, he was the center of attention while his brother quietly sat and observed. Dallas’s frequent efforts to include Austin had only emphasized their differences.

  Austin was a downer, she’d heard people say back then, and she knew Austin had heard them say it, too. He was the responsible one, the designated driver, the rule follower and all those other mature qualities college guys didn’t want to be reminded of.

  “You act like an old man,” Dallas complained to him once, when Austin had pointed out that he’d cut three calculus classes in a row. “No, you act like an old woman!”

  Cara had been in their study group. That’s how she’d met the Varnell twins. Dallas and his buddies had wanted to copy Austin’s homework and Cara had told him not to let them.

  In that instant, she’d captured the attention of both Dallas and Austin. Austin, because he thought he’d finally found someone who was immune to Dallas’s charisma, and Dallas, because he thought the same thing.

  He was so good-looking and outgoing that people didn’t mind being manipulated by him because they enjoyed hanging around him. But for the first time, Dallas couldn’t charm his way with a smile.

  Austin was equally good-looking, but took exactly the opposite route. He was as reserved as Dallas was outgoing. He did favors; he didn’t ask for them. He was responsible, dependable and studied hard, all excellent, but hardly sexy, qualities. Still, she’d liked him better.

  Being with Austin had made Cara feel grown up. But it was such work to get to know him, and she’d discovered that he was contemptuous of anything he considered frivolous and unworthy of his time. He’d felt that way about a lot of things, things she enjoyed.

  It was much easier to be with Dallas. And so for a time, she had been, even though she’d suspected he was only interested in her because his brother was. She’d actually hoped Austin might object, but he’d backed off, as he always did.

  Eventually Cara moved on, and then last year, she’d crossed paths with the Varnell twins once again. Or at least Dallas.

  Now working as a commercial interior designer, Cara was onsite with a client at the same time Dallas was making a sales call.

  They caught up by meeting for coffee, which became drinks and dinner. She’d learned that Austin now worked for Wildcatter Investments, which amused her. Staid Austin had finally loosened up and it seemed that Dallas had tightened up—matured. Exactly what each had needed to do.

  Cara had had fun. So when Dallas called her, she went out with him again. And again.

  He worked in sponsorship sales for the Houston Texans football team, the perfect career for him. He entertained, gave away tickets and other perks and kept the money people happy. When they went out together, it was always to an event of some sort, always exciting and enjoyable and not something she could have experienced with anyone but an insider. It was thrilling. It was intoxicating. And soon, Cara only felt happiest when she was with Dallas.

  The problem was that everyone felt that way, and she and Dallas were seldom alone.

  The first time they slept together, it had been after an argument about that very thing. There had been tearful accusations (hers), promises (his) and ultimately the kind of makeup sex of legends.

  And he’d proposed. Right then.

  And she’d tearfully accepted. Right then.

  And the cycle had repeated, except for the proposal.

  When had she turned into a person who needed constant reassurance?

  Cara didn’t like this about herself. She and Dallas were older and he’d demonstrated his new maturity by making a commitment. He had a job where he worked long, erratic hours. She needed to get over herself.

  However, there had been the question of a wedding date.

  A fixed date proved as slippery as, well, something really slippery. They had to work around the team’s game schedule. And then there were the playoffs and recruiting. Cara’s winter wedding became a spring wedding, which meant different flowers and no velvet for the bridesmaids.

  And now it was a summer wedding. With pink. Lots of pink. Pink that would look wrong in the fall, so this had better be the last time she rescheduled.

  Dallas was so contrite. And she understood. Truly. And he’d make love to her with a skillful intensity that made her forgive him anything.

  But.

  They’d been engaged nearly a year and the wedding was still months away. Cara had allowed her mother to incorporate ever more complicated details to placate her about the delay.

  And then there was the little matter of last month. Cara sank onto one of the padded white chairs in the fitting room. Her face heated and she knew she was blushing even though she was alone.

  She’d been trying to talk to Dallas about the wedding and their future and just life in general. She was feeling emotionally disconnected and vulnerable and wanted to be with him. But he was busy and he didn’t seem to understand her need for lengthy emotional exchanges.

  They had a spectacular argument resulting in a spectacular nooner. Afterward, Cara had teased Dallas by saying that she was going to wait for him right there in his bed. Naked.

  So when the front door opened shortly after he left, she assumed it was Dallas deciding that he didn’t have to meet in person with whoever wanted to buy advertising for that week’s game, and that he could just as easily work out the details over the telephone and stay in bed with her.

  Naturally, she got out of bed to greet him. Naked.

  And, understandably, she didn’t realize immediately that the man in the foyer wasn’t Dallas, but his twin, Austin, who watched as she merrily pranced down the stairs. Naked.

  “I knew it, I knew it!” Laughing, she’d launched herself at him.

  Just before her thighs clamped around his waist, her mind registered that she was intimately wrapped around a dark, navy blue suit instead of the casual sport coat Dallas had been wearing.

  By then, it was too late to stop the kiss.

  Warm hands supported her bare bottom as lips that were the same as Dal’s acted so very differently.

  They shouldn’t have been acting at all.

  And she shouldn’t have been enjoying the performance.

  Dal’s kisses were perfect. Always. He knew what worked and nailed the moves every time. It was like watching a recorded performance versus live theater. One delivered guaranteed excellence. The other delivered the unexpected, sometimes good and sometimes bad.

  And sometimes, perfection.

  Cara’s skin grew cold, then hot. Slowly she drew her head back and gazed at the man who just might have redefined perfection.

  “Hello, Cara,” Austin said.

  2

  “AUSTIN! I… Dallas and I are getting married!” she blurted out, although he almost certainly knew.

  “Congratulations. Or is it best wishes to the bride?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He smiled.

  She hadn’t seen Austin smile like that before. Then again, a naked woman had just flung herself into his arms and planted a wet one on him. He was entitled.

  And about that… How was she supposed to extricate herself and get b
ack up the stairs? She didn’t have the guts to loosen her grip, turn around and nonchalantly walk back up the stairs knowing he was watching her. What a view. Not exactly her best. And running up the stairs with everything jiggling would just be pathetic.

  “I’m picking up the tickets Dal left for me,” Austin explained. “I have a key.”

  “Oh. He didn’t mention that.”

  “He probably didn’t think of it, since we do this all the time. He leaves tickets on the fireplace mantel and I stop by during lunch and pick them up. I’m setting you down now,” he added in the same conversational tone.

  Releasing her, he quickly shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

  Relief at his thoughtfulness made her knees shake. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.” And he grinned.

  Austin Varnell grinned. He never grinned. Or he didn’t used to. The old Austin would have awkwardly looked away. The old Austin wouldn’t have kissed her that way. Or any way.

  Clutching the jacket closed, Cara walked to the stairs quickly—but not in a way anyone could describe as a panicked retreat—and headed up the stairs, all jiggling safely hidden.

  IN THE FITTING ROOM at Tuxedo Park, Austin was also reliving that day. He remembered every detail of the moments she’d spent in his arms. He remembered how her skin felt, her warmth, how she tasted, her lips, and especially the tiny sound she’d made when his tongue had met hers.

  He remembered watching her climb the stairs until she was out of sight.

  Cara Brantley, the love of his life.

  And she was getting married to his brother.

  She had no idea she was the love of his life, and neither did Dallas. Actually, Austin was stunned to discover it himself. All it had taken was her flinging herself naked into his arms and kissing him as though she couldn’t let go.

  Back when they were studying calculus together, he’d fantasized a really close scenario to what occurred that day. The surprise of it actually happening, years later, had exposed feelings he’d thought were gone.