The Marriage Match (Entangled Bliss) (Suddenly Smitten)

by Tracy March

  Trent skimmed his hands up the back of her caftan. “Can I take it off?” he asked huskily. He pulled back and set his questioning gaze on hers.

  Cyn kissed him, gently tugging his bottom lip between her teeth. “Yes.”

  Trent guided her to turn her back to him. He swept her hair in front of her shoulder. Starting at the nape of her neck, he kissed his way down her back as he slowly unzipped her caftan. Cyn arched and tipped her head back, the feathery sensation of his lips on her skin swirling inside her. Her heart thrummed harder as her dress loosened, slipped past her hips, and fell to the floor, leaving her in the blue bikini that had him so bothered in Negril.

  “God, Cyn,” Trent said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her back against him. A fine spray of rain blew over her body as his breath warmed her ear. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She’d only dreamed about hearing him say that to her. Now here she was, in his arms, his words settling in her ears. There’d be a fight to keep them out of her heart. She stepped out of her caftan, picked it up, and faced him, pleased to see his adoring gaze linger over her body.

  Trent swept his fingers across the beads at the center of her bikini top and slowly down her midriff. Just when he reached the bottoms, he closed his eyes for a second and shook his head. “You’re killing me.”

  Cyn tugged at the hem of his damp polo shirt. “We’re not going to need this.”

  He took it off, grabbed her caftan, and tossed both it and his shirt onto the chaise. Cyn smoothed her hands over each tight pec, across every ripped ab muscle, as raindrops fell and trickled their way down to his swim trunks. She’d seen him shirtless, even been pressed close to him during their shoot. But feeling free to touch him took her desire to a whole new level. Hooking her finger behind the tie on his trunks, she pulled him toward her and kissed him, their bodies skin to skin.

  Thunder shook the balcony, lightning pulsed quickly afterward, and rain poured on them despite the canopy of trees.

  Trent swept her wet hair away from her face, clutched her hand, and headed inside toward the bedroom. Cyn followed close behind him amid the candlelight and music, to a stupidly romantic bed strewn with rose petals.

  …

  After an unforgettable night, Trent woke up beside Cyn in the hazy early morning. Stripes of sunlight streamed in between the open slats of the jalousie windows, and a balmy breeze blew in from the sea. He stayed still and watched Cyn sleep, curled on her side, facing him, her hands tucked beneath her chin. Her hair looked even darker against the white pillow, a red rose petal caught in the strands.

  Trent had liked her from the start—been attracted to her in an instant—but he hadn’t imagined how electric things would become between them. He closed his eyes, remembering when they’d sat on the swing together, when he’d gone to her cottage soon afterward, when he’d kissed her under a shower of falling stars. It had felt as if they got each other, even then. But she’d made it clear that her job was to set him up with someone else. Ava… Naomi… Claire…

  Of course he’d noticed her in the Bahamas—driving the Jeep, dancing with the Junkanoo rush-out, winning the conch-cracking contest. And in Turks and Caicos when her hopes had seemed high that he’d fall for Naomi. Was that what she had really wanted?

  Then came his decision to cast her in the ad campaign—to see if this could actually go somewhere—and their time together this weekend, all building up to last night. He gazed at her again, recalling every touch, every kiss, every sensation—intensified by the storm. The excitement of climbing the falls and jumping from the cliffs had been a perfect prelude to the rush of everything that came afterward. His body stirred at the memory, and he considered waking her, hoping for more.

  But could he risk that? Cyn had done as he’d asked. She’d given him last night. As much as he wanted to be with her again, he knew it was best not to try. He’d pushed too hard before, and she had set him straight. She’d been doing a job this time, too, he reminded himself, and they’d both gotten carried away in the sexier version of what had happened in the boxwood maze. That didn’t necessarily mean she wanted him beyond that. Right?

  Nothing had really changed, otherwise. Cyn had her life in Maple Creek, working for Gran and at Sweet Bee’s, dealing with her parents. Trent had promised Gran he’d go along with her plan to help find him a wife. A girl who was ready for marriage, whom he could relate to, from a similar family, whose lifestyle was compatible with his—and Gran’s. She was all the family he really had, after all. Alienating her was not an option, and she’d be prickly enough after she found out that he’d hijacked the marketing campaign without her knowledge.

  He was set to meet Claire in a couple of weeks. She’d be staying in this exact cottage. Could things work out between him and one of Gran’s girls, especially now without the on-camera pressure?

  A glance at the clock had him deciding to get out of bed and get dressed. He had to resist Cyn and focus on what was coming next. Besides, work hadn’t stopped just because it was Sunday, and he had a few things to take care of before he left the resort today.

  Trent stepped into the living area and got dressed quietly, concentrating on the gorgeous view out the French doors. Instead of the one in the bedroom. But now that he’d decided to walk away, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Could there really be something between him and Cyn? He buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath. Even if there was, how could it possibly work out? He headed back into the bedroom to get one more look at her. To try to wrap his head around his emotions. His heart hammered like crazy as he sat on the edge of the bed, so close he could reach out and touch her.

  Cyn blinked open her eyes, seeming confused for a second, then narrowed them. “Leaving so soon?” she asked.

  Was that a polite way to handle an awkward moment, or an invitation to stay? Heat coursed though him and he tensed against the temptation. Despite himself, he reached out and toyed with a lock of her hair.

  “Duty calls,” he said. Man, that sounded lame.

  A long silence stretched between them as he was torn by what to do. Trent would swear she could hear his heart hammering. He shook his head, trying to work out what to say. “This has been beyond what I had hoped.”

  Cyn gave him a rueful smile, a faraway look in her eyes.

  Those eyes…

  Usually so lively.

  “You’ve been a hundred percent with me during every moment this weekend,” he said. “But you’re somewhere else right now.”

  “My mind is back in Maple Creek.” She sat up, her hair falling over her bare shoulders in tousled waves, and made sure the sheet covered her body—the body that had brought him so much pleasure last night. The sexy look of her nearly undid him. “Your grandmother might be on my doorstep the minute I get home, wanting to know how things went this weekend. What do you want me to tell her?”

  And there it was… Reality. All the complications of life beyond this cottage. “Gran will be in Charlotte with me this week. We’ve got a bunch of meetings planned.”

  “Then you’ll handle things there?” Cyn asked, one little question loaded with so many others.

  He nodded. “It’ll make sense to her when she sees the marketing campaign. Gordon says they can put something together for us to look at by the end of the week. Gran will be settled before she gets home.” Trent hoped he wasn’t overpromising.

  Cyn gazed at him skeptically, then glanced away. “I’ll need to pick up where Jamie left off with Claire, make sure things are on track for you two to meet,” she said softly. “I’ve got to keep that project moving along.”

  His gut clenched. He’d been wise not to delude himself into thinking she might want something more with him, to stay in bed with her this morning, to hope something had changed. This was a repeat of what had happened after their kiss in the boxwood maze, only worse.

  “Right,” he said. “Gran will be much more receptive to seeing you in the marketing campaign when I assure her that everyth
ing’s still a go with Claire—and that we’re moving ahead with her plan.”

  Cyn ran her finger along a crease in the sheet and followed it with her gaze. “For sure. And she’s really hopeful about Naomi, too.”

  He nodded. “Things might go better now that there won’t be an audience for our dates.”

  “I think they will,” she said then looked him in the eyes. “I…I really hope things work out for you.”

  Trent bowed his head and pressed his fingers against his temple. He felt so awkward talking to her about this, but she was the one who’d brought it up. Clearly Cyn didn’t see a future for the two of them, so he should thank her for giving him an out.

  “About last night.” Cyn tugged the sheet more tightly against her and crossed her arms to keep it in place. “I got really carried away. I blurred the lines between on-camera and off-camera and went way too far.”

  His heart lumbered from beat to beat. “We both did.”

  She stayed silent for a moment, absently licking her lips.

  He was dying to kiss her one last time, but she’d made it clear that their time together was through. “I’d better get going.” He stood, wishing like hell that she’d ask him to stay. That he hadn’t imagined that this weekend had meant something more. He could hardly believe things were ending this way.

  Cyn nodded and gave him a plaintive smile. “Duty calls.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Monday morning, Cyn stepped inside Sweet Bee’s Bakery, the bells on the door jingling as she entered. She’d heard that sound a thousand times, but today it really resonated. Sweet Bee’s felt like home. Brokenhearted over how things had ended between her and Trent, and worried about how the Queen would react to the marketing campaign, she needed the comfort of a familiar place and a faithful friend. Chocolate might help, too. She inhaled deeply, seriously worried she’d gain a couple of pounds just from the scent of something decadent baking.

  Paige ducked out of the kitchen, wearing a dirty apron that no doubt had been clean an hour ago, strands of blond hair escaping her ponytail. Her eyes brightened at the sight of Cyn.

  “I was just thinking about you,” Paige said. “Guess what’s in the oven?”

  Cyn scanned the tiny bakery, making sure no one else was there. “Do you mean literally or metaphorically, because if you and Lane are having a baby I’m going to be totally blown away.”

  Paige grinned and pressed her hand against her stomach. “So am I!” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “I mean the oven in the kitchen.”

  Cyn rounded the counter, working hard to act casual. She drew in another deep breath, taking only moments to identify the aroma. She’d worked here for a couple of years, after all. “Triple-chocolate caramel brownies. The scent drew me here all the way from Hawthorne Manor. Who says you can’t have brownies for breakfast?”

  “One of life’s many totally dumb rules,” Paige said, and led Cyn into the kitchen where several trays of muffins cooled on one of the stainless steel tables. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tomorrow.”

  Tuesdays and Thursdays were Cyn’s days to work at Sweet Bee’s, but she couldn’t keep everything to herself until tomorrow. “I had some errands to run—garden party stuff—and the Queen’s out of town, so…”

  “That’s this weekend, right?” Paige asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Jeez Louise, that sneaked up on me.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “We’ve got a boatload of baking to do, thanks to the Queen,” Paige said. “Petit fours and mini-cupcakes and three kinds of pie, if I’m remembering right.”

  “Speaking of,” Cyn said, “how long before the brownies are done?”

  As if by magic, the oven timer pinged.

  “These are ‘on-demand’ brownies, a new recipe.” Paige winked and put on a huge oven mitt that nearly reached her elbow. She pulled the pan of brownies from the oven and set them out to cool. Lowering her eyebrows, she looked Cyn up and down. “Something’s different.”

  Cyn’s heart lurched. “You said it was a new recipe.”

  Paige rolled her eyes. “With you. And it’s not just that you’re tan. I’m envious, by the way.” She tossed the oven mitt on the table. “You couldn’t have gotten the bonus already, because you’d look happier if you did.”

  Cyn had gone online this morning to pay bills and found a fresh deposit of five thousand dollars in her bank account. Trent hadn’t made her wait for it. He’d tied up all the loose ends of their deal and moved on, just like any smart businessman would. But somehow the money complicated things even more. And it wasn’t nearly enough to get her parents’ house out of foreclosure. Trent had to propose to someone else for Cyn to get the money she needed. The idea made her stomach pitch, but that was the deal she’d agreed to with the Queen.

  “Trent hasn’t fallen for any of the girls the Queen picked,” Cyn said. “Yet.” Suddenly she was unsure how to lay everything out for Paige. “There was kind of a bump in the road with a different girl.”

  “That the Queen didn’t pick?” Paige grabbed a small plate from a shelf and set it next to the brownie pan. “You’d think he’d know better than that. Now that the Queen’s running the show, she’s not going to be happy until he marries someone she approves of, and preferably chooses herself.”

  Cyn knew that all too well. She swallowed hard. “The ‘different girl’ was me.”

  Paige’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “What?”

  “I got down to Jamaica and found out that the third girl’s trip got postponed,” Cyn said. “Things had gone kind of slow between Trent and the other two girls. He and the production people were afraid they weren’t going to get the footage they needed to make effective ads for the marketing campaign.” She shrugged. “Now it seems hard to believe that it ever happened, but Trent offered me a contract to be the girl with him in the ads for the resorts.”

  “Stop.” Paige stared at her, dumbfounded.

  Cyn nodded nervously. “I had this Cinderella weekend on a tropical island with him. There were clothes, and shoes, and bathing suits, and cameras. Even a helicopter.” She decided to leave out the rest for now.

  “You and Trent?”

  “It wasn’t totally out of the blue, like it probably seems,” Cyn said. “He kissed me a few weeks ago, right after we first met, before we went to the Bahamas—”

  Paige held up her hand, palm out. “Wait, wait, wait. Something’s been going on between you two for weeks and you haven’t told me? He kissed you and you didn’t say?” She seemed more fascinated than angry, much to Cyn’s relief.

  Cyn scrunched her nose. “I was supposed to be setting him up with someone else… Several someones.”

  Paige pulled another small plate from the shelf and set it next to the brownie pan. “I’m gonna need one of these, too.” She grabbed a knife and started cutting, gooey warm brownie sticking to the blade.

  “Milk or coffee?” Cyn asked as Paige put an oversize brownie on each plate.

  “Espresso.”

  Things were always serious when Paige chose espresso. Cyn hurried and made her one, and got a tall glass of milk for herself.

  “Let me get this straight,” Paige said as they carried their brownies and drinks out into the tiny dining area in the front of the bakery. They sat facing each other at a little two-top next to the window. “Trent kissed you a few weeks ago, and the two of you are going to be the couple in the ad campaign?” Paige took a slug of her espresso and winced.

  “Unbelievable, right?”

  “Totally trippy.”

  Paige put a forkful of brownie into her mouth and chewed slowly, eyebrows raised. “You’re going to be on television.”

  “If the marketing campaign turns out to be what they’d envisioned, and the Queen approves. Isn’t that crazy?” Not near as crazy as the rest of the story. Cyn was getting to that.

  “I can’t wait to see the commercials. Then I’ll know three people on TV—you, Trent
, and Cole.” Paige flipped her ponytail. “My star power is rising, for sure.” She basked in her excitement for a moment, then pointed her fork at Cyn. “I wish I could’ve been in the meeting when they convinced the Queen to cast you in the ads. Imagine, a normal girl like us on TV with Trent instead of one of the society girls she picked.”

  Cyn’s insides knotted. “She doesn’t know.”

  Paige’s jaw dropped, and she clanked her espresso cup down on its plate. “No. Freakin’. Way. Trent did all that without the Queen’s approval?” She shook her head quickly, her eyebrows up near her hairline. “Is he insane?”

  Cyn pinched her eyes closed, then peeked out at Paige. “Apparently,” she squeaked out.

  “Oh, lordy.” Paige jumped out of her chair and headed for the kitchen. When she reached the doorway, she turned around and said, “Stay there, because I’m bringing out that whole damn pan of brownies.”

  Within seconds, Paige returned, serving up another brownie for each of them and setting the pan on the next table. “So, the Queen’s in the dark, you’re in the ad campaign, and all hell is going to break loose when she finds out. Let me know beforehand so I can board up the windows.”

  Cyn savored a bite of her brownie, indulging in a moment of denial.

  “And let’s back up a second,” Paige said. “You said you had a Cinderella weekend with Trent. Cinderella got her prince.” She cleared her throat for emphasis. “There’s more to this story, isn’t there?”

  Cyn sighed, recalling some of the more memorable scenes of her and Trent’s unforgettable night together. “Let’s just say that we took advantage of our time together in the fantasy suite.” She wished she could sound happy about it, but it had been more of an ending than a beginning. How many times had she tried to block out the memory of Trent already dressed and ready to head out the door when she’d woken up? Her heart ached, thinking about it now.