When Honey Got Married

by Kimberly Lang

  “What’s your point? I assure you,” she retorted, pulling herself together, “Brent is a very professional guy who would never break his code of ethics.”

  “Never?” His mouth quirked in disbelief.

  “Never.”

  Unless, of course, a kiss could be counted. Tongues at midnight. Hands.

  “We—e—ell. If you say so.” Rainer pressed his lips together, then gave his bourbon a meditative sip. His mouth was really very stirring and expressive, the lower lip pleasingly cushioned, suggesting an arousing resilience if a woman happened to…

  She gave herself a mental shake. For Pete’s sake, she wasn’t thinking of kissing him. “Why look so doubtful, Rainer? Brent is a very focused person. Even if he felt strongly and irrevocably attracted to an employee, even if he longed to kiss her, yearned to caress her soft skin, itched to put his hand on her…on her…he wouldn’t dream of…”

  “He must have the resistance of a saint.” His voice was darker than the night.

  His glance met hers, sensual, bold, then slid down her throat to where her breasts were innocently longing to expose themselves. Against all the odds, her skin tingled as if singed by a naked flame.

  It threw her off-balance, if the truth be known. On the one hand there was Brent across the room, holding a piece of her heart in his hands, and now here was Rainer. Powerful, masculine, and entirely confusing to the senses.

  She couldn’t ever remember this degree of confusion before. Being held captive by the sheer force of a man’s physical aura. It was a whole new experience, and strangely exhilarating.

  Maybe it was the drink affecting her brain. She composed her face to appear more stern. “He didn’t need the resistance of a saint. I don’t know what you expect from your women em—”

  She’d meant to say “women employees,” but before she could finish he cut in smoothly, his voice as deep and dark as the devil’s. “Loyalty undiluted and passion uninhibited.” He smiled.

  That smile reflected in his eyes with a message that was nothing short of bad.

  “Oh, please.” She gave a mocking laugh, but a sultry shiver slithered down her spine to the backs of her knees. It was hard to deny that the guy had impact.

  “I’m not criticizing you, Eve.” His wolfish gaze flicked to her throat, then drifted southward. In spite of their proud history of aloofness, against all the odds her nipples stood up and quivered shamelessly. “I totally understand. If two very attractive people are forced by circumstances to be together in close confinement, bumping into each other, hips occasionally touching, he accidentally brushes her breast, she grazes his thigh with hers, it’s only a matter of time before…”

  “But nothing did happen.” How she wished people wouldn’t always leap to conclusions. She’d been hung for so many sheep in the past, when she’d hardly ever done more than pet the woolly heads of the little lambs who’d pursued her.

  And purely out of kindness, so as not to hurt their feelings. “Well, nothing much,” she felt forced to amend.

  “Ah.” Rainer’s eyes lit with a knowing amusement that riled her.

  “Oh, what’s with that ‘ah’? Look—I freely admit, I admired Brent’s stance on environmental issues.”

  Rainer broke into a laugh. “His stance?” It was amazing to see how a laugh lit up the man’s face and warmed his gray eyes. She could see why that Dixon cousin had gone so entirely overboard from the bridge.

  Rainer was a stunner.

  She swept her lashes down to block out some of the amazing dazzle. “For your information, Brent is very concerned about protecting the habitat of the Great Egret of Louisiana. You wouldn’t mock if you knew the research he puts in before he invests in a development. All those conferences we attended…”

  Rainer’s gaze sharpened with a wicked surmise. “Conferences?”

  She closed her eyes. Oh, why had she said that? Minna was right She was her own worst enemy. “Naturally, there were conferences. I was his assistant. I had to go with him.”

  “Hmm.” He nodded slowly. “What happened at these…conferences?”

  “Just the usual. Meetings. Lunches. Networking…” Evading his sharp gaze, her glance fell on his hands. Bronzed, strong, and supple, they were ruthless hands. She could imagine them handling a gun. Stroking a woman’s throat. Stroking the gun and the throat. The woman’s shoulders. Her breasts. The tingling silk of her inner thighs.

  With his glass held casually in his long smooth fingers, he gave his bourbon a swirl. “I guess you and Brent would have spent some time together in the evenings.”

  She eyed him warily. “So?”

  Beneath his half-lowered lids, his eyes shone with a silvery, mesmeric quality. “Well, I suspect there’d have been at least one moment.”

  She shook her head, but before she could crush his vulgar curiosity with a few pithy words, he leaned in close. The action caused the cloth of his suit pants to stretch taut across his powerful thighs. Her pulse quickened apace.

  “Eve, it wouldn’t be humanly possible for any straight guy not to desire you.”

  Her heart skipped a pounding beat. Those words struck such a chord.

  Coming from a man women jumped off bridges over, they were flattering. And so what she needed to hear.

  “You are a very desirable woman.” She held her breath as he moved close to murmur in her ear, so close his jaw nearly grazed her cheek. “If my cousin had you alone on all those occasions, are you honestly telling me you never…?”

  Feeling the searing heat of his big, hard body, she closed her eyes. Surely she wasn’t feeling aroused. Not now. She moistened her lips.

  This Rainer Delacroix was a tricky devil. And she could see he’d boxed her into a corner over Brent. It was one thing to not betray Brent, another entirely to give the impression Brent was gay.

  “Well… Well, then… All right,” she conceded under the intense pressure of Rainer’s stirring lips being at close and kissable proximity. “There may have been…a moment.” His brows flew up, but before he could query further she added firmly, “Only the one. There was…a kiss, is all. Just one kiss. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  “A kiss.” He sat back, nodding and casting a speculative eye over her. “What time of day did this kiss take place?”

  She gulped down the last of her drink. “Quite late. Past midnight, I imagine.”

  He lifted a quizzical brow. “That late? And then what?”

  “How—how do you mean?” Though she had a pretty good idea where he was heading. This was the part of the story that had her confused, too.

  “What did you and Brent do?”

  “Well…nothing. We said good night and went to our rooms.” She saw a look of extreme skepticism cross Rainer’s face, and hastened to defend herself. “We had an early start the next morning. Brent was under pressure over a meeting he had and he didn’t want to be tired.”

  He gazed at her for a long time, considering, then his sensual glance slowly traveled the length of her, taking in every curve and fold along the way. To be honest, she felt as if her dress was being erotically lasered from her body.

  He said softly, “So what went wrong?”

  Her nerve jumped. “With what?”

  “The kiss.”

  “Nothing. I told you. We had to get up early and…”

  “Did you give it all you’ve got?”

  Unusually for her, she was rocked by a surge of anger. She hissed in a breath. “It was a perfectly normal kiss. It may surprise you to know this about someone in your family, Rainer Delacroix, but your cousin Brent is a nice guy.”

  His brows shot up while his eyes danced with pure infuriating amusement. Then he shook his head solemnly. “Eve. How nice is a guy who kisses a woman and leaves her hanging?”

  This was so close to the painful reality of what had happened, her insides clenched with the remembered distress. Except it wasn’t exactly as Rainer was suggesting. While on the one hand, true to her usual form, she hadn’t exp
erienced any Fourth of July fireworks at the time, on the other she’d fully expected Brent to be panting, groaning, and begging for a whole lot more.

  Well, that was what she’d come to expect. So what had gone wrong?

  “Look…” Somehow another flirtini had found its way into her hand. “It wasn’t that sort of a kiss.” She could feel herself blushing like a schoolkid. “I didn’t want… There was no need for… Haven’t you ever kissed a woman as a sign of your esteem? Out of respect for your—your shared ideals?”

  Rainer made a careless gesture. “I have to be honest, Eve. Any time I kiss a woman, whether it’s for esteem, ideals, or whatever, there is a need, and she does want.” His sexy mouth edged into a smile. “She surely does.”

  Stirred by the seductive smolder of his smiling gaze, a sizzle seared right through her flesh. She didn’t doubt the truth of his claim for a second.

  It was so disorienting. Brent was her focus. Brent was where her loyalty lay, or wanted to lie. Wanted to lie down and mate with its beloved, soul to soul. She shouldn’t allow Rainer Delacroix’s incredible sexual magnetism to distract her from her true affections and her last chance for happiness.

  She glanced across the room and saw Honey clinging to Brent. Literally clamped to his arm, as though fearful he would escape. She could hardly blame Honey for that. Poor Honey no doubt knew something was missing. But what about poor Brent? Condemned to a loveless marriage. And what for? Oh, for sure, they looked good together. Their families were in the same social stratum. Was that why Brent was going along with it? Emotionally blackmailed into perpetuating his parents’ social expectations?

  While all the time the true love who could save him was sitting right here struggling to resist the enchanting wiles of a wicked snake charmer.

  It was a worse mess than a Tennessee Williams family Christmas.

  “I can see you’re cynical about the meaning of Brent’s and my—my exchange,” she said breathlessly to Rainer. “You’re trying to read more into it than existed.”

  “Not at all. Brent had the hots for his secretary, then realized she was way too much woman for him to handle. While you—”

  “No, no,” she almost moaned. “That isn’t true.”

  He continued inexorably, “—you were ‘in lurve.’” He did that cynical thing people did with their fingers to imply quotation marks.

  Such contempt for true and honest feelings went hard with her.

  “Why do I think that’s a concept you wouldn’t understand, Rainer?” she said tartly, dragging her eyes away from the fascinating muscles disturbing his pants fabric. “Anyway, you’re wrong. I liked him, is all. We clicked—at a professional level. It wasn’t until after the Dallas…incident that my feelings—” She dropped her eyes. “That I realized I had…deeper feelings.” She kept her gaze lowered. “There. I’ve admitted it. I hope you’re satisfied. Mock me if you like.”

  “I don’t want to mock you, Eve.” She glanced up and met eyes shimmering with all the sincerity of Lucifer’s. “Hell no. Mocking is not what I have in mind. I’d just like to help you deal with this painful occasion.”

  “I can imagine.”

  His eyes softened, and his sensuous lips crushed each other in a show of rueful remorse. “Eve. Do you think I like seeing a lovely woman in distress? Those big velvet eyes filled with pain? I’m the first to admit I’m no hero. But I am human.” He set down his glass and placed his hand over his heart. “Helping you through this painful time would bring me pleasure.”

  Eve wished with sudden fervor she could believe him. She had never talked to a man like this, sharing her heart’s secrets. Somehow Rainer had unlocked this sad little piece of her history with no trouble, very little pain, and really quite a deal of pleasantness. How wonderful it would be to know a sexy man she could talk to.

  Though if he had any kind of a heart, why would that Dixon woman have jumped off the bridge? Regretfully, she realized she was probably just being duped by his charm.

  She sighed. “I hope you’re not just blowing smoke up my skirt, Rainer. But fine. If indeed you’d like to help, maybe you wouldn’t mind distracting Honey a brief while? Take her aside so I can find a way to have a private word with Brent?” Drawing a light fingertip along the back of his lean hand, she felt a startling leap in Rainer’s skin. Unexpectedly, an electric thrill zinged through her bloodstream. She withdrew her hand at once, but the zing continued its burn. “Just—just for a few minutes. I think it’s best not to worry Honey with seeing Brent and me together. ”

  He shook his head, frowning, though something like that zing was in his eyes. “That doesn’t sound like such a good idea.”

  “I thought you said you wanted to help?”

  “That wasn’t the help I was visualizing. That sounds like trouble.”

  “Trouble. Oh, I see.” She dropped her lashes and gave a sad little laugh. “Though…I don’t really. I just need to set the record straight with my old boss, is all. Wish him well, face-to-face. Then I can—we all can move on.” She lowered her voice so Rainer would be forced to keep close and inhale more of her Sin. “It’s Brent I’m thinking of. I know he has questions, and tonight feels like a better time to round things off than tomorrow. Don’t you want your cousin to be happy and at peace with himself on his wedding day?”

  She laid her hand on his sinewy wrist where a few wisps of black hair curled from his cuff. His skin felt amazingly warm under her fingers. Vibrant, as if a high voltage electric current was humming through his bronzed flesh. Her glance was drawn irresistibly to his mouth for one breathless moment, then her gaze clashed with his.

  Those silvery eyes blazed so hot she had the thrilling sensation she was being showered in sparks. When he spoke, his voice was deeper than a Gulf oil gusher. “I believe I would require some sort of security before I could risk letting you loose on Brent.”

  She blinked. “Sorry?”

  “You’re just too enticing, Eve. That face, that mouth, that body.” A smile curled his lips. “Whatever story you tell, I can’t help reading bad mischief in those lovely eyes. So sure, I’ll take care of Honey for you. But in return, you have to kiss me.”

  “I beg your pardon?” She felt a wild surge of exhilaration, to tell the whole truth. But noticing a few heads turn her way she lowered her voice to a chill whisper. “Are you crazy?”

  “And not just any little kiss, either,” he insisted, ignoring her hauteur. “Forget about egrets. I’m not interested in an esteem kiss. I want the hottest you’ve got.”

  “What you’ve got is no chance.” She slid off her chair. Dusted her hands. “I don’t kiss heartless, conniving rogues.”

  He laughed with frank amusement. “There may be some irony in that statement, Eve. But that’s my price. Take it or leave it. Oh, and I want my security up front.”

  Chapter Three

  Strangely, in all the excitement, Eve had barely noticed the hush of expectation in the room. Festivities were about to get under way.

  She left Rainer and his outrageous propositions behind, and strolled across the dance floor to join Minna, hardly knowing whether to be furious at the sensation of Rainer’s hot gaze scorching a sensual path down her back, or to rejoice in it.

  Minna turned to greet her, one brow slightly lifted, a wry expression on her mouth.

  Seemed it was showtime. Robert and Marie Delacroix were up on the band dais, standing beneath a banner emblazoned with the heraldic coats of arms of the ancient tribes of Delacroix and Moreau. Eve didn’t need to look at Minna to know how she was taking that. She gave the poor darling’s hand a squeeze.

  “Don’t worry, Auntie,” she whispered. “You can buy those old things anywhere. Anyway, ours is prettier.”

  Brent’s daddy, splendid in his evening suit, launched into his welcome.

  “Friends and neighbors, tomorrow you will all be present to help us celebrate one of the happiest days in the Delacroix family history. Marie and I are proud to welcome…”

 
Brent and Honey stood to one side, still locked in their double act, beaming and modestly disclaiming the beautiful things being said about them, although once or twice Eve caught Honey darting an anxious glance through the assembled guests. Anyone would have thought the bride was nerve-racked with some sort of guilt issue.

  As well she might.

  Eve tried to concentrate, but the truth was her brain was totally fixated on the Rainer proposition. The sheer diabolical nerve of the guy. Could he have any idea of how inappropriate it would be of her to kiss him? Now? Here? After she’d spent an entire year playing Sister Maria for real, crying into her pillow and turning down anything resembling a date out of mourning for Brent?

  And just where did Rainer think such an event could take place? The veranda? Not very likely. No doubt there was a multitude of private corners, storage rooms, and closets within the club, but Eve had no idea of the layout. She wondered if Rainer knew of any useful nooks or crannies.

  She looked around for the audacious guy and located him on the fringes of the crowd, leaning against a pillar, frowning, a slightly sardonic downturn at one corner of his gorgeous mouth. What was eating him, anyway? With his record of driving women to suicide, who was he to scorn people who fell in love and wanted to get married?

  Old Man Delacroix spread his arms. “We hope y’all will mingle, meet the two beautiful families, and join with us in…” Every so often his beaming wife gave the old boy a prod to help him along. “…our heartfelt wish to embrace y’all with our version of cheer and the finest Louisiana cuisine. Please lift your glasses…”

  There were toasts and good wishes to Honey and Brent, more toasts to their parents, grandparents, and great-great-grandparents. In typical Delacroix overkill, and blind insensitivity to the presence of Fortescues in the room, they had the nerve to toast all the way back to Joshua Jeb Delacroix, the lying, conniving old cardsharp who’d cheated Andrew Fortescue out of Belles Fleurs, the local plantation where the wedding was to be performed, and which had originally been the Fortescue farm.