The Marriage Match (Entangled Bliss) (Suddenly Smitten)

by Tracy March

  Cyn went wide-eyed. “Oh, man. That’s wicked.” No doubt the bikini cost a small fortune.

  “And…” Jamie held up something on a hanger beneath a plastic sheath, then pulled the plastic up to reveal a vivid multicolored caftan, filmy and light.

  Cyn’s jaw dropped. “That’s like the one Naomi wore, but even prettier.”

  “I knew you liked it,” Jamie said. “And so did the camera. So now we’ve got the combination right.”

  Cyn leaned against the vanity and shook her head. “These clothes and accessories are so nice. Wait until I look in my closet on Monday morning and try to pick out something to wear. You’ll hear me moan all the way down in Atlanta.”

  “Trent wants you to keep them.” Jamie made a sweeping gesture toward the closet. “The clothes, the accessories, the shoes. They’re for you.”

  “No way,” Cyn said, stunned. “That’s not in the contract, and it’s way too generous.”

  Jamie sat on the edge of the bed and set her serious gaze on Cyn. “Trent’s a generous guy, and he enjoys giving. Remember how excited he was when he donated the check to Founder’s Town at the conch festival?”

  Cyn tipped her head in agreement. She knew as well as anyone how much the Hawthornes gave to the island people and their communities.

  “Then let him experience the joy of giving to you—whatever he wants to give. Take it as a thank-you. I’m sure that’s how it’s meant.”

  “But I could never give him anything like this—nowhere near.” Cyn toyed with the belt of her bathrobe. She was lucky if she had a few extra pennies to toss in a fountain, much less money to afford extravagant gifts and big donations. Their lives couldn’t be more opposite. Their kisses might be hot, but it was a good thing they were fake—there was no way a real romance could work between them. She sighed.

  “He doesn’t expect anything in return. It’s just who he is.” Jamie picked up the bikini top and dangled it from her fingers. “Besides, I don’t think he could pull off a wardrobe like this.”

  Cyn chuckled. “Is this the surprise?”

  Mischief danced in Jamie’s eyes. “Not by a long shot.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cyn pinched her eyes closed, just as Trent had told her to.

  “And don’t peek,” he said lightly, his arm securely around her waist as they made their way uphill across the grass.

  She’d been walking blind for a while now and had no clue where they were headed. Her dress lightly skimmed her legs in the late-afternoon breeze, reminding her of Trent’s feathery touch in the surf this morning. She caught a tinge of the same sexy cologne she’d noticed when he cradled her against his bare chest.

  Jamie, Gordon, and Stuart had gone ahead of them so they could capture the surprise on camera. Cyn had no doubt she’d be totally in for whatever it was, but knowing her reaction would be recorded piled on the pressure.

  “Okay,” Trent said, his sturdy grip on her waist stopping her short. “You can look now.”

  Cyn grinned at the excitement in his voice. All this might be fake, but it sure was fun. She blinked her eyes open to see a kick-ass helicopter against the backdrop of an electric-blue sky. Her mouth fell into an O. “We’re going somewhere in that? I mean, first a seaplane, now a helicopter?”

  Trent smoothed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “And this one’s just for you.” His eyes sparkled.

  It was so over-the-top. Way more than she expected. “Sweet.” She busted out a broad grin and kissed Trent on the cheek, aware of the camera on them…and the expectations. “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.” Trent winked. “One surprise at a time.”

  Cyn grimaced. “You’re enjoying this torture way too much.” Admittedly, she was, too.

  He grinned crookedly. “And I’m just getting started.”

  They boarded the helicopter where the pilot—who looked like Santa Claus—awaited. Gordon, Jamie, and Stuart climbed in after them. Trent had insisted that Gordon ride shotgun.

  “Fine whirlybird you got here,” Gordon said to the pilot as they all got settled and buckled in.

  The pilot tipped his head toward Trent, who sat next to Cyn. “Belongs to Mr. Hawthorne. I just get to fly it.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Cyn stared at Trent, stunned, as did Gordon, Jamie, and Stuart.

  “What?” Trent seemed to stifle a smile. “A guy’s got to get around somehow.” He turned to the pilot. “Everything set?”

  The pilot nodded. With the buzz of the engine, a whip of the wind, and the staccato whisk of the blades, they were airborne.

  Cyn’s stomach flipped but settled quickly. She gazed out the window as they rose over the island, marveling at the view of Dunn’s River Falls, the varying greens in the undulating hills, the strips of golden beach, and the clear, turquoise sea.

  “This is unbelievable,” she said to Trent by way of the microphone on her headset.

  Trent reached over, squeezed her hand, and held on to it even though the camera was packed away. She gave him a sidelong glance loaded with questions, yet kept her hand in his. Admittedly, she liked his touch, longed for more, but the two of them only had one weekend. If he wanted to play pretend the whole time—cameras or not—why shouldn’t she go along with that? It was the only chance she’d get with him, and she was pretty sure another guy like him wasn’t going to come along any time soon, if ever. After this, he’d meet Claire in a couple weeks and decide if he wanted to date her, Ava, or Naomi. Or someone else the Queen would approve of. But not a girl like Cyn.

  Jamie’s curious gaze caught Cyn’s, and she raised her eyebrows. Cyn bowed her head and gave Jamie an I-have-no-idea-what-this-is-all-about look.

  The helicopter flew low over the coast, heading west. Cyn caught her breath from all the excitement, enjoying the flight over the undulating hills, and near several quaint Jamaican towns she’d love to see from the ground. After what felt like practically no time, Trent pointed to a long ribbon of sand that seemed to stretch on forever. “That’s Negril’s famous seven-mile beach.”

  “Wow,” Cyn said. “Is that where we’re going?”

  “Not exactly,” Trent taunted.

  Soon the shorefront became craggy and they flew over a large thatch-roofed building up on the cliffs by the beach, next to a lagoon. A big blue swimming pool practically glowed amid multilevel terraces.

  Trent pointed to the complex and said, “That’s where we’re going—Rick’s Cafe.”

  “For real?” Cyn had read about the popular beachside hangout famous for— Her heart hung on a beat. “Cliff diving?”

  Trent raised his eyebrows. “You game?”

  She nodded quickly, thrilled and more than a little terrified.

  The pilot landed the helicopter and they made their way to Rick’s Cafe.

  “I want to get some shots of you two up on the cliffs at sunset,” Gordon said. “Dry. No diving until after that.”

  “Technically, we’ll be jumping,” Trent teased.

  “Whatever you want to call it, mate,” Gordon said lightly. “I think you’re nuts.”

  They all hung out on the beachfront terrace for a while, the girls sipping colorful, tropical umbrella drinks, the guys enjoying bottles of cold Red Stripe. Divers and jumpers leaped from the nearby cliffs and Cyn worked to bolster her confidence for her big splash. Fortunately there were several practice levels she could jump from before taking the thirty-five-foot plunge. She could hardly believe that this was her life—climbing a waterfall, flying in a helicopter, cliff diving. Being with Trent. She wished the dream could last. It seemed like no time before the sun sank nearer to the horizon, and the sky came alive with swatches of orange, yellow, and pink.

  “Back to work,” Gordon announced after he drained his second Red Stripe. “Let’s do it while the colors are turned up high.”

  Trent clasped Cyn’s hand and gave her a long, inviting look. Her heart stuttered. What if this is real life and that look really meant
something? She warned herself to rein in crazy thoughts like that. Jamaica was fantasy island, and she was headed back to reality tomorrow.

  …

  Hand in hand, Trent led Cyn up to the cliffs surrounding the turquoise lagoon. The patrons’ curious gazes were on the guy with the camera and the couple in front of the lens. Jamie and Stuart followed. Trent was certain that most eyes were on Cyn, because his definitely were. He couldn’t restrain himself from touching her, from getting closer to her whenever possible, from thinking about what might happen between them off-camera—especially after their got-to-have-more kiss at the top of Dunn’s River Falls. Why did things feel so right with the wrong girl?

  “Shirt off, Trent,” Gordon said, after they reached the top.

  Trent pulled his polo shirt over his head and tossed it to Jamie. He glanced at Cyn and caught her staring at his abs. He gazed at her, eyebrows raised, until she realized he’d caught her looking.

  “Busted,” she said, and held up her hands, palms out. “But you’re not playing fair with those abs.”

  Trent liked that she was pleased with what she saw. He couldn’t help but imagine about twenty more ways he’d like to please her. He smoothed his fingertips down the curve of her neck, pushed aside the sheer fabric of her dress, and gently tugged at the tie of her bathing suit top. “Talk about not playing fair.”

  “We’re not running sound tonight,” Gordon said. “Just going for the optics.”

  But Trent hadn’t been flirting with Cyn for the sound bites; he’d been flirting with her because he wanted her. She’d rejected him once, after their kiss in the boxwood maze. Now that they’d spent more time together, would she reconsider?

  “Arms around Cyn, Trent,” Gordon directed. “Cyn, rest your head against his chest.”

  Trent took Cyn in his arms and she rested her head against his pec, strands of her silky hair catching the breeze and tickling his shoulder. He wished time would stand still for a while—she felt so right there.

  “Give me your seriously-in-love faces,” Gordon said.

  Trent tightened his arms around Cyn, gazing at the camera, warning himself not to even think about love and Cyn in the same thought. She’d signed a contract to appear in the ad campaign. This was her job right now, and maybe she was just really good at it.

  “Perfect,” Gordon said. “Now walk up to that peak over there.” He pointed west. “Give me the best you’ve got, because this sunset is once-in-a-lifetime.”

  Trent kept his arm around Cyn and she leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked. When they reached the peak, he faced her, gathered her to him, and gazed into her amazing blue eyes. “You look beautiful,” he said huskily, surprising himself with his tone. He swept his fingers along the top of her shoulder and cupped his hand on her neck, caressing her velvety earlobe with the pad of his thumb. “You put this awesome sunset to shame.”

  She bowed her head and gave him a small, rueful smile. “They’re not running sound.”

  His heart clenched. “I know.” And right now he didn’t care if Gordon was running the camera, either. He pressed his lips to hers, eager to feel the rush that came each time he kissed her. A rush like he’d never gotten from other women he’d kissed. And this time it was even more intense, his pulse pounding harder, his desire for her building. She put her arms around him and pulled him close, nestling her body against all the right places.

  “Mmm,” he moaned, the gentle rhythm of her tongue hypnotizing him. He smoothed his hand over the back of her head, deepening their kiss, longing for more.

  “I got it, you two,” Gordon called from a distance. “Great work. Award-winning stuff.”

  Cyn pulled away and gazed at the sunset, rubbing her lips together nervously. Trent kept hold of her hand and threaded his fingers between hers.

  “Guess that’s a wrap,” she said.

  “Then we should celebrate.” He squeezed her hand. “Ready to jump?”

  Her eyes brightened. “I think so.”

  Cyn headed over to Jamie and took off her caftan, treating Trent to a swimsuit-issue view of her in a killer bikini. He stared at her unabashedly as she returned to him and they made their way to the diving cliffs. They got a few tips from some local guys on how to position themselves for the smoothest entry into the water. The dudes couldn’t keep their eyes off Cyn, either.

  “Let’s practice first,” she said.

  Trent agreed that was wise, and they jumped from ten feet, then fifteen, in the wake of the sunset.

  “That’s a huge rush,” Cyn said to him as she climbed out of the lagoon and wrung the water from her hair.

  “Not nearly as much as the one I’m getting looking at you in that bikini.” He pinched his eyes closed for a second and shook his head. “I thought you couldn’t beat the Dreamsicle one you wore today, but that one’s got me worse than bothered.”

  Cyn gave him a bashful smile. “Dreamsicle?”

  “I loved them when I was a kid,” he said. “I had no idea they’d gotten so sexy.”

  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip. “Thanks… I think. You’re looking pretty hot yourself.” She lifted one shoulder and the jet beads on her bikini top glimmered like a seductive wink. “I’m trying to think of a food reference, but nothing’s really working.”

  Trent grinned. “That’s a relief.” He led her to the top of the diving cliffs to the thirty-five-foot jump. They stepped to the edge and looked over into the lagoon.

  Cyn pressed her palm against her flat stomach. “Man, that’s a long way down there.”

  Trent met her gaze and nodded, a little hesitant himself but amped, too. “You first, or me?” he asked since they were only allowed to jump one at a time.

  “Ladies first,” she said. “And I don’t want to stand here and think too hard about it.”

  She leaped off the cliff and squealed all the way down until she splashed into the lagoon. Trent was left standing there with his mouth open. Cyn surfaced and looked up at him, an I-own-this grin on her face. He raised his arms in a touchdown pose, just like he’d seen her do. He’d never met a girl quite like her. But what was he going to do about that? Was he going to play it safe with her, or take a risk and jump in headfirst?

  “Your turn!” she called.

  And Trent jumped.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Cyn had been ready to go again, but Gordon caught their attention after Trent got out of the lagoon and waved them over to the terrace. The pilot had called and warned that a storm similar to the one last night was on the radar. He recommended heading back to Ocho Rios while there was still time.

  On the flight back, Cyn moped a little since her time with Trent had been cut short by the weather. Gordon said he was pleased with the footage he’d recorded, and he was sure the finished product he’d produced would be “bang on.”

  Cyn couldn’t believe it had been so easy to earn five thousand dollars. But now that they were back at the resort, she faced the hard part. Saying good-bye to Trent.

  Gordon, Jamie, and Stuart headed back to their cottages, trying to beat the storm that was churning up the ocean and stirring in the trees. Cyn and Trent stood in the reception area, the same place she’d leave from tomorrow morning. She took a long look at Trent and swallowed hard.

  “Can I walk you to your cottage?” he asked.

  Her heart fluttered. “Sure. That’d be cool.” Cyn was longing for more time with him, and she hoped she sounded more casual about it than she felt.

  They walked along the stone path in silence, the flames in the gas lanterns flickering just like they had last night. It was almost like a rerun, but Cyn was hoping the script would change after they got to her cottage. She tried not to think what tomorrow held. Just focus on tonight.

  Unlike last night, Trent didn’t announce a plan when they got to her door. Cyn pulled out her key and they stepped inside to similar acoustic music, candlelight, and chocolate-dipped fruit. The bed was turned down, even more fresh rose petals st
rewn across the creamy-white linens.

  Trent scanned the room. “What did you call it last night?” he asked, breaking their silence. “Stupidly romantic?”

  Cyn rolled the filmy fabric of her caftan between her fingers and nodded. “Yep.” Her heart hammered. He could say good-bye any second, and that would be it.

  “Wanna watch the storm come in?” He opened the French doors.

  Cyn stepped over to him and they went out on the balcony together. The sea roared. The trees rustled in the wind. Rain began to tick on the leaves, falling to the balcony in heavy drops.

  Trent grasped her shoulders gently and looked her in the eyes. “You did such an impressive job. I worried when I made the decision to ask you to take this chance, but I think I did the right thing.”

  She nodded, raindrops falling harder. So this was the big good-bye. She shrugged. “I hope it—”

  His lips smothered her words, his arms enveloping her tightly, as if he was worried she might not stay. He lingered tentatively with his off-camera kiss, coaxing her into something more serious. Cyn hesitated, knowing what she wanted, yet unsure what to do.

  Trent stopped kissing her and pressed his forehead to hers—a move she’d always associate with him and one that got her every time. “I know it’s confusing,” he whispered over the wind. “But give me tonight.”

  Heat swirled through Cyn despite the coolness of the raindrops on her skin. She had no words for the situation. She didn’t want to talk. Cupping his scruffy face in her hands, she kissed him, picking up where they’d left off just moments ago. There could only be a limited number of kisses for them, and she was determined to make every one of them memorable.

  He backed her into the corner, the balcony rails behind her. The wind whipped her hair, adding a wild sensation that had them deepening their kiss, letting go. Cyn put her arms around him and pressed him closer, eager to feel his muscular body against hers.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and lightning flashed. He gently massaged her back and temptingly took his hands lower over her dress, each finger a tantalizing point of pressure that made her long for more. Need gripped her. She’d face the consequences tomorrow, but she had to have him tonight.