by Cassi Carver
Dedication
For Joshua—my unexpected miracle and greatest joy.
Chapter One
Benjamin Swayne was a disgusting man. How could so many people miss this fact and label him as charming instead? How could they look at the tall, sculpted physique, the sandy-blond hair, the finely tailored tuxedo and not see the worthless human being underneath? Sara had fallen victim to that charm eight long years ago, and her heart still had the scars to prove it.
Never again. That was her motto when it came to Benjamin Swayne and men like him. Never. Again.
Sara tapped a finger to the screen of her tablet, putting it to sleep and clutching it to her chest so she could better glare out at the dance floor through the strings of twinkly lights. The botanical gardens couldn’t be prettier, and everything was going as planned for the engagement party, but still, she couldn’t peel her gaze from Swayne and the six-foot-tall lingerie model grinding against him.
The six-foot-tall drunk lingerie model grinding against him.
And the lingerie-model label wasn’t a jealous barb. Sara had seen this woman on the cover of the bra magazine she’d recently gotten in the mail, though she doubted the model still sported the same jewel-encrusted brassiere. No, the silk dress the model wore was so thin and transparent that the rhinestones would have shone through the fabric, but the only things poking through tonight were the woman’s nipples. Disgusting. Yep. She’d called it. They were a perfect pair.
“Hey, Sara. What are you doing over here? Time to join the party.”
The voice from behind her jolted Sara to attention. She turned to see the bride-to-be staring back at her, looking beautiful in her aqua evening gown and little satin hat. If guests thought it strange that Rayna Sommers wore a hat at night, they no doubt chalked it up to the eccentricity of the filthy rich…or those marrying the filthy rich, as the case was.
Rayna crossed her arms and gave Sara a playfully stern look. Sara knew Rayna pretty well now, seeing as Rayna was marrying Sara’s boss, Kyle Ashford, and she could tell Rayna wasn’t truly annoyed.
Sara smiled. “Of course I will.”
Of course she wouldn’t.
She could mingle when she had to, but these weren’t her people. Rayna’s humble upbringing had been closer to Sara’s, but soon Rayna would be marrying into one of the ten richest families in America, and things would change, as they invariably did with the newly rich and famous. “I was just checking the guest list to see who had RSVP’d but hadn’t shown up.”
Rayna cocked her brow. “Uh-huh. You had that list memorized as the cars pulled into the lot, categorized by license plate. No, it looked more to me like you were staring at Benjamin Swayne.”
Sara smoothed a trembling hand down her red satin gown. Kyle had forced the company credit card into Sara’s hand and asked her to buy a dress for the engagement party, because he knew she would wear a business suit if she could get away with it. The store clerk had gushed over this strapless, designer creation, and Sara had gone along with her suggestion. But now she wondered if a business suit might have been better after all. She was covered chest to ankles in satin and still managed to feel stripped bare.
“I was not staring at Benjamin. He’s just…well, he and the Brazilian cover model are making quite a spectacle of themselves out there. If you’d wanted your engagement party at a sleazy club, I could have arranged it at a sleazy club.”
“Hmm…” Rayna narrowed her eyes in speculation.
“Hmm what?”
“Kyle told me that you have a problem with Ben. He isn’t sure why, but Ben is his best friend, Sara. And you’re like Kyle’s…little sister. It bothers him that two people he loves can’t get along.”
“Little sister? Kyle Ashford is my boss.”
“And you two grew up under the same roof. Don’t pretend like you aren’t part of the family. He loves telling stories about when you were little.”
She shrugged. “Like cousins, then. Twice removed.”
Rayna chuckled at that. “Fine. But it still makes him sad. He doesn’t have many friends, and Ben is special to him. Matter of fact, Kyle’s chosen him as best man for the wedding.”
Sara’s top lip arched in disgust, like she’d just sucked on a lemon. A rancid, moldy, fermented one. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. Ben’s going to plan the bachelor party and everything.”
At the thought of this impending catastrophe, the blood drained from Sara’s upper half and pooled in her feet. Oh hell no. “That’s a really bad idea. You have to trust me. You don’t know Benjamin Swayne like I do. You couldn’t count on him for a teaspoon of water if you were dying of dehydration.”
“What?” Rayna took a step back. “Why would you say that? What do you know about him that I don’t?”
Plenty. “Nothing. But I mean, look at him. Everywhere he goes a lingerie model follows. He might as well have her on a gold leash like a show dog.”
Rayna shook her head. “I’m new to this world, but you grew up around all this money. Isn’t this all part of the glitz and glamor? Dating models might mean Benjamin’s shallow, but aren’t we just as shallow if we judge his date because of her disturbingly perfect…everything?”
Rayna was right. Not about Benjamin, but about his date, at least. “Sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight.” To Sara’s utter horror, her eyes watered up until the lights of the party made striated stars in her vision.
“Aww…come here.” Rayna pulled her in for a hug. “If there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here to listen. Okay?”
Sara was a couple of inches taller than Kyle’s fiancée, which might have made for an awkward hug if she wasn’t so familiar with Rayna’s touchy-feely side by now. The Ashfords weren’t big on affection, but Sara was getting used to this new dynamic Rayna brought to the family. Sara quickly dabbed at her eyes when Rayna squeezed and released.
“No, really. Everything is great,” Sara told her. She needed to get her act together, and fast. Tonight was not about her—no matter what it did to her insides to see that two-faced, two-timing asswipe out on the dance floor. Since when had Sara ever let her emotions overcome her careful reasoning and efficient execution of her job? Well, yeah, probably the last time she’d had a run-in with Benjamin Swayne. But this time she was in control.
“You know…” Rayna began, looking thoughtful, “I can’t say I’m not a little worried about the bachelor party now that you brought it up. You tend to have good instincts about these sorts of things, and Kyle’s been getting enough crap from the press for asking me to marry him. I don’t want him embarrassed at the bachelor party by anyone.”
“Don’t give it a second thought.” Sara beamed a smile at Rayna that had been perfected by hours of practice in the mirror—a smile designed to put even billionaire tycoons at ease. It was capable. It was confident. It said everything is going to be fine. “This wedding is about you and Kyle, and if it will make Kyle happy to see me bond with his best friend, then that’s what’s going to happen.”
Rayna looked hopeful. “Really?”
Sara nodded. “Absolutely. And I bet Benjamin could use some help planning that party.”
Sara’s gaze traveled the courtyard. The botanical gardens had started off just fine, but Sara had had two hundred and twelve rare orchids and four pallets of fragrant blooms shipped in from around the world. There wasn’t a leaf out of place, not a light that wasn’t polished and shining—all 137,000 of them…approximately. The food was decadent, the guests were content and having a great time, and she had planned it all herself.
Party planning was beyond the scope of Sara’s job as Kyle Ashford’s personal assistant, but she’d volunteered. She took Kyle’s—and now by extension, Rayna’s—happine
ss very seriously. No man-whore with the initials of B.S.—clearly a bad omen to begin with—was going to muck up Kyle’s engagement with expensive prostitutes or lap dances that ended up as front-page tabloid photos.
“You’re going to…help Ben plan the bachelor party?” Rayna clarified.
Sara clutched the tablet tighter and refocused on Swayne who now had his hand moving over the scantily clad ass of the woman dancing beside him. She would bite the bullet and she would do this. For Kyle. For Rayna. For the good of humanity.
“Yes, I am.” It would take an act of God to stop her now.
Rayna bit her lip and adjusted the tiny, elegant hat covering the back of her head. “And you’re sure he wants your help?”
Well, if Ben didn’t want her help simply based on the fact that Sara excelled at event planning, she wasn’t ruling out good old-fashioned blackmail. After all, what she had on Benjamin Swayne would certainly buy her a little party tampering.
“Oh, yeah. I’m sure.”
Ben enjoyed the feel of Nadia’s skin under the thin layer of silk. She reeked like she’d bathed in booze, but he blocked that out, inhaling the scent of the night-blooming jasmine all around them. Nadia was every man’s fantasy, and if he led her down the wooded path behind the stage, he knew he wouldn’t have to walk more than a few paces in the dark before she would plaster her body to his. He might have even considered the excursion if not for one thing—Sara Castillo burning holes in his head with her death-ray gaze.
Ben’s stomach churned with acid. He tried to focus on the here and now, but he couldn’t. Not with Sara only fifty feet away. He’d tried to get her alone over the past few years, had tried to talk with her, but the results were never pretty. Sara hated his guts. And that was what pissed him off more than anything.
After what she’d done, she hated him.
The irony was strong enough to reach out and slap him back to reality. He didn’t owe her one damn thing. Not one more moment of his time. She hated him? Well, he hated her back.
So why couldn’t he stop casting quick glances in her direction? Why was she the first person he looked for in a crowd every time he was attending an event that had even a remote connection to Kyle’s family? He needed therapy. That was why. There was no other reason he would still put himself through this after eight years of soul-sucking torment.
Nadia went from a sultry slide up his body to a stiff stance, and her hand flew to cover her mouth as though she’d belched. But when a second gagging noise came in close succession to the first, Ben’s eyes widened. “Are you all right?”
Nadia’s normally flawless complexion looked waxy and pale. “I think I am going to up the throw. To…” She searched for the word.
“Vomit?” he suggested, knowing her English only got worse when she was drunk.
And then he knew he’d completed her sentence correctly when she bent and spewed frothy alcohol across his shoes and half the dance floor. And to imagine he’d voiced concern when the malnourished waif hadn’t eaten anything before or during the party. He counted it divine providence at this point.
He reached to take her arm. “Here…let me help you. Let’s get you to the bathroom.”
After Sara felt sure that the clean-up crew had the mess under control, she went in search of Ben and his date. She found him standing on a dimly lit walkway, ferns and flowers illuminated to his left and a locked restroom door to his right.
She knew the moment he spotted her. First his expression went blank, then the familiar hardness settled into his gaze. She stopped five feet from him, still cradling her tablet over her breasts.
Ben crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the tan stucco wall, as arrogant and entitled as ever. “Sara.”
A hiss of air escaped her nose, but she tried to calm the instinctive curl of her upper lip. “Ben.”
“How can I help you?” he asked.
She heard the murmur of a woman’s voice from the other side of the door, soft rises and falls, coaxing, seductive and a little pouty. Nadia was clearly on her phone, only question was—who was she talking to?
“I thought maybe you were the one who needed the help,” Sara answered. “I saw your date wasn’t feeling well, and I was wondering if she needed medical assistance.”
Ben snickered. “She had a little too much to drink. It’s not like you need to call the paramedics or anything. Besides, I’m pretty sure she emptied half the contents of her stomach on the dance floor.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re right,” she replied blandly.
“So, again… How can I help you, Sara? Or did you just come to chat about old times?”
She laughed when what she wanted to do was spit. “I have nothing to say to you regarding ‘old times’.”
“Of course you don’t. I used to expect more from you. Now I know better.”
She sucked in a breath. How dare he talk to her that way? Who was he to—
The bathroom door opened abruptly and Nadia stumbled out, her phone to her ear and her eyes wet with tears. Her mascara made dark smudges under her eyes, and her nose was pink and shiny. Ben moved away from the wall and reached for her arm. “Nadia? Is everything all right?”
She shrugged off his hand. “No. I am sorry. Raul is on his way here to pick me up. We have…” she paused to search for the word, “…reconciled.”
Raul? Wow. She meant NBA star Raul Thompson, if the tabloids could be trusted. At six feet, Ben was taller than average, but Raul had almost a foot on him. Sara would have given anything to see Benjamin Swayne staring up at the professional athlete, looking uncharacteristically shrimpy. Though Ben would find some way to stare down his nose at the man, no doubt. That or Raul would come out convinced he and Ben were friends for life.
Ben leveled his gaze on the model. “You reconciled? In the bathroom?”
“I am sorry, Benjamin. I must go. Thank you for a time lovely.”
Sara almost smiled at the turn of events, but this was Kyle and Rayna’s engagement party, and no one was leaving early to be photographed outside the gates with mascara running down her face. Sara touched the button on her earpiece. “Makeup and security…come in.”
“Yes, Ms. Castillo? This is Makeup One. Over.”
“Meet security in the main lobby, please. They will be bringing a guest who’ll need a touch-up before she leaves. Security? Who’s available?”
“Team Four, ma’am. Over.”
“I need a friendly escort, please. Pick up outside restroom number—” She tapped the screen of her tablet and called up the plans to the grounds. She had every restroom, every path, every nook and cranny numbered. “Number five, please. This is a code fourteen.”
“Seriously?” Ben said, but Sara didn’t know if it was directed at her numbering system or his date.
“So sorry, baby.” Nadia slumped against him and patted his face. “You are so handsome. Raul and I will invite you to the wedding.”
“Always a bridesmaid…” he muttered and shook his head, but his charming smile clicked into place. He’d fooled a lot of people with that smile over the years, and it was humiliating for Sara to count herself among the ranks. “Good luck, Nadia,” he told the model. “I’m sorry about tonight, too. And don’t make any decisions about Raul until your head clears in the morning, okay?”
Two men in black tailored suits walked up to them, and Sara inclined her head in Nadia’s direction. “A little touch-up before she leaves, gentlemen, and please stay with her until her friend arrives. He can pick her up in parking lot—” with pursed lips, she glanced again at the screen, “—three.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.
Nadia placed a wet kiss on Ben’s cheek then hooked her arm through the tallest guard’s. “Touch me up,” she said with a giggle and walked down the path leading to the lobby.
“Fuck me,” Ben said under his breath. Then a little louder as he met Sara’s eyes, “I’m delighted you got to see that. I’m sure it made your night co
mplete.”
She smiled at Ben, not forcing it this time. “Don’t sell yourself short. It made my year.”
“I’m glad I could entertain you. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get back to the party.”
In an uncharacteristic move for her, she stepped into Ben’s path and blocked his way, tablet still clutched to her like a shield. “I do mind. I mind you parading around here like you care about Kyle, convincing him you’ve got his back. Do you really think I’m going to let you ruin his wedding? Not a chance on God’s green earth, party boy. We both know you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”
His mouth dropped open, showing those perfect white teeth she now hated. Every aesthetic feature of this lowlife was perfect. “Have you finally lost your mind, Sara? Why would I ever do anything to hurt Kyle?”
She wasn’t fooled by the vein throbbing in his temple. He might look shocked, but whatever he was planning for Kyle was going to be a disaster. “The bachelor party. You’re the best man. You’re planning the event. And I’m not going to let you turn it into some fiasco that winds up on cable television.”
“Exactly. I am the best man. Me. This isn’t any of your business. You might control Kyle in the office, but this is his personal life, and you need to butt the hell out.”
This was the longest conversation she and Benjamin Swayne had had in years, and her body almost couldn’t handle the infusion of fight-or-flight hormones flooding her bloodstream. She wasn’t sure if she was going to claw his face off or just liquefy into a useless puddle of nerves and trickle down the sidewalk like melting snow. “I know there’s no love lost between us, Ben, but believe me when I say that I am going to help you plan that bachelor party.”
He took a deep breath, and his already muscular physique seemed to expand, all male intimidation. “Like hell you are. I need you around like I need a hole in the head.”
“Maybe. But I’m helping. This isn’t about you and me—it’s about Kyle. Unlike you, I protect the people I love.”
Ben stepped back on one foot like he’d lost his balance, and his mouth went slack. “That’s a low blow. Even for you.”