“Except for that whole fight part, right?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She batted her eyelashes and climbed onto the back of the bike. “I have to say seeing you in angry, protective brother mode was a bit endearing.”
“Was it?” He leaned down and brushed his mouth across hers.
“Mmm hmm.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed.
“Thank you for tonight, Brandy. For everything.”
Her pulse skipped. “You’re welcome.”
He pressed his forehead against hers and then pulled away, climbing onto the bike in front of her. He handed her a helmet that she promptly put on.
Her smile widened as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She’d really gotten this whole motorcycle thing down in her time with him.
Marco started the bike and gunned them out of the parking lot and onto the highway. She sighed and snuggled her body close to his, wondering if she’d ever been this happy.
Gordon tugged the baseball cap down over his eyes and pocketed the cigarettes he’d just purchased.
“Hey,” the clerk said suddenly. “Aren’t you on that one show?” She snapped a bubble with the gum she chewed. “New You or something? I don’t watch it much, since it pretty much sucked, but you look familiar.”
“No.” He shook his head and scowled, heading toward the exit.
The bottled blonde’s IQ was probably smaller than her bra size. What the hell did she know anyway? New You had been a great show.
Ugly chicks, like the bitch behind the register, had been made into something a little less repulsive. It was utterly ridiculous the show had been cancelled.
In fact this entire situation was ridiculous. Having to sneak around the city like some damn criminal. Hell, three weeks ago he’d been fucking worshipped when he’d visited this town. He’d been that ‘hot dentist from the reality show’. He’d had a different woman every night—sometimes two.
He’d get that back. He would, damn it. He refused to accept anything else. Once this money thing was settled, he’d find another job—maybe even on another reality show. Hell, those shows still popped up left and right like invincible fruit flies.
He pushed open the door to the store, put one foot outside and then froze. He stepped back inside, letting the door close behind him as he looked back down.
Eyes wide, he reached with unsteady hands to pick up a local paper.
It couldn’t be. How in the hell…Was it really her?
He took the paper up to the register and dug some quarters out of his pocket.
Well, well. It looked like today might be the day where his luck changed.
“I gotcha now, love muffin.”
Chapter Sixteen
Rolling over in bed, Brandy stretched her arms above her and gripped the headboard. Every inch of her body still tingled and warmed with awareness, doubling so when she stared over at Marco.
He lay on his side, his fist next to his head on the pillow, his expression soft and relaxed with sleep.
Her attention slid to the left side of his face and she winced. The fight last night had certainly left a mark. She leaned over him, running a finger lightly over the swollen black-and-blue flesh.
Marco’s eyes snapped open. His hand shot out and his fingers curled around her wrist.
A shiver ran through her at his touch. “Good morning,”
“Mmm.” He gave a drowsy sigh and released her wrist. “Good morning, princess.”
With her hand free once more, she trailed her fingers across the ridges of his chest. “What time are we heading over to your dad’s house?”
The muscles tensed under her fingers.
“Are you nervous?” she asked softly.
He didn’t answer, just looked away and gave a slight shrug.
“Okay, answer me this.” She leaned on her elbow and propped her head on her hand. “Before your falling-out, was he a good father to you? Or was he a bad father?”
“No.” Marco shook his head. “He was an outstanding father. Raised two kids on his own…put me through college.”
“Yes, see? He sounds like a great dad. He’s probably just as eager to put this behind him as you are.” She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. “Where did you go to college?”
Marco tensed and then jumped out of bed as if she’d jammed a needle into his leg.
“We should probably get ready.”
She sat up. “Oh. So soon?”
“It’s what?” He glanced at the clock. “Ten? It’s an hour drive and I told them we’d be there by noon.”
Brandy watched him stride over to the dresser and search through it.
Okay. So obviously he wasn’t going to reply to the where did you go to college part. But why? She sighed and gave a slight nod. Maybe he’d attended a junior college and was embarrassed, which was ridiculous. Or maybe he hadn’t completed school—had never received his degree.
“I’m going to grab a shower.” He turned, clothes dangling over his arm. “Did you want to join me? Or would you prefer your own?”
“Silly question.” She winked and climbed out of bed after him, not at all self-conscious in her nudity.
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone becoming much more intimate. “It was a silly question.”
Reaching up, she cupped the back of his head and pulled his mouth down to hers.
“You forgot to say good morning properly,” she chided, her lips just a breath away from his.
“My bad.”
“Oh my God. You just sounded like one of my students.”
“My bad.” His smile widened.
“Stop it!” She giggled and tugged his head down further until his mouth covered hers.
All her muscles grew pliant the moment their lips touched, a sensation she’d quickly become used to.
Marco gave a growl of approval and deepened the kiss, his arm sliding around her waist to hold her up. He lifted his head a bit later and the naked desire in his eyes locked all the air in her lungs.
“Good morning,” he said thickly.
“I’ll say.” She ran her tongue over her lips. “Now how about that shower?”
Marco’s cell phone rang.
“Or did you want to get that?” she asked.
“It can wait.” He scooped her up into his arms. “I’m feeling the need to get dirty—er, I mean clean.”
The drive out of the city gave Marco some much needed time to think. With the hot Nevada air against his face and Brandy’s arms around his waist, he relaxed enough to enjoy the ride.
This morning’s conversation had started down a road he wasn’t quite prepared to go down. He should have never even said the word college to her.
What college had he gone to? Hell. She’d probably been shocked to hear he went to college at all.
The moment he admitted that he’d graduated from Duke with a degree in law, he’d better be ready to revive her. Or at least be willing to lay it all out on the table. And he couldn’t do that. Not yet…but soon.
Last night he’d come to the realization that he wanted to share it with her. The entire experience—his sordid, not so pretty past. And he could only hope it wouldn’t effect her feelings toward him.
Marco turned the bike onto his father’s lot a few minutes later. The land wasn’t extensive, but his dad had always kept it up nice and neat. And the house appeared to have undergone some minor renovations.
Two years. Had it really been so long since he’d last been here? Since he’d seen his father?
Parking the bike on the side of the house, he killed the engine.
The front door slammed open and Elena came charging down the stairs.
“You guys made it!”
Marco swung off the bike, removed his helmet and then assisted Brandy down.
“We made it,” he agreed with a grin. Unease pricked his gut. His father was nowhere in sight. “And it looks like you got back all right too.”
“I did. Actually, Sebastian brought me back.” She confessed an
d blushed.
“Sebastian did?” Brandy asked, stepping up between them. “All the way back here? That was nice of him.”
“Yeah, it was.”
Was it Brandy’s imagination, or did Elena’s cheeks just get a little pink?
“Well, I’m glad you got home safely.”
Elena leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. “Jeez, Marco. That looks terrible. I’m surprised you let Tony kick your ass so badly.”
“The man is almost over six and half feet tall! And he hit me when I wasn’t looking.”
“Excuses, excuses. Did you put some ice on it?”
Marco glanced over at Brandy, and this time it was her turn to blush.
“Last night,” he murmured.
The front door slammed again. Marco’s father stood in the doorway.
Marco held his breath. The silence in the yard was deafening. And then Marco couldn’t stand looking at the anguish in his father’s face anymore.
“Papa,” he said roughly and drew his father into a tight embrace.
“Lo siento, Marco,” his father said raggedly and his arms wrapped tighter around Marco. “Lo siento.”
So much time had been wasted without his family. Marco drew in an unsteady breath, regret eating a hole in his gut.
“Papa, you must let me introduce you to Brandy,” Elena said and tugged the other woman up the steps. “Brandy, this is my father, Alfredo.”
His father turned to look at Brandy.
“Ah, Brandy, tu eres bella.” He stepped forward and took her hand, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “Beautiful, you are so beautiful.”
“Thank you, sir.” Her cheeks flushed and she glanced at Marco.
He couldn’t help but smile at her. The motorcycle helmet had left its mark on her hair. It had flattened her hair at her crown, but the curls by her ears were bouncing wildly. She was the sexiest woman on the planet…
“More beautiful than your picture.”
Marco and Brandy snapped their attention back to his father.
“My picture?”
“Her picture?”
His pulse began to thud a bit faster. How in the hell was it possible that his dad had recognized Brandy? He never watched television and could care less about Hollywood circles.
“Yes, your picture.” Alfredo stepped back into the house. “Come, come. I’ll show you.”
Brandy and Marco exchanged another look before following them inside. Elena followed close on Brandy’s heels.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, girl,” Elena chided and tugged on Brandy’s sleeve.
“Tell you what?” Brandy turned around.
“Umm, who you are.”
“Ah, here it is. The beautiful picture.”
Marco blinked at the newspaper his dad threw down in front of him. Brandy leaned forward to peer over his shoulder.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Brandy lifted a hand to her suddenly warm cheek.
This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. But apparently it was. Big, bold letters on the front page of the paper read. Brandy, the Bar Brawling Heiress.
She stepped back and spun away from the paper, her heart pounding. The bar brawling heiress? That’s what she’d been labeled? Oh God!
She paced the room and then stood by the window.
“Brandy? Are you okay?” Elena rushed to her side. “Really, it’s a great picture of you. I mean, yeah, you have kind of a crazed look in your eyes. But your boobs look good.”
A great picture? The image on the paper flashed before her eyes again. She’d been gripping Marco’s arm, with indeed a crazed look, right after he’d slugged Tony. A good picture? She’d looked exactly like what they’d called her. A bar brawling heiress.
Dear lord. Bile rose to her throat. Could she lose her teaching job over this?
“Brandy, it’s okay, princess.”
She shrugged off Marco’s arm and shook her head. “It’s not okay. Now everyone knows exactly where I am—and it sure as heck ain’t the Mediterranean. I’m…in the midst of a bar fight in that picture. I look like I’m ready to roll up my sleeves and start throwing punches myself.”
“So?” Elena snorted. “Lots of people get in bar fights. Oh my God, this one time? This one chick called me short and I totally knocked her on her—”
“You don’t understand. Before last night I’d never even seen a fight except on TV. Before last week I’d never even been in a bar!” Brandy spun around and gave a shaky sigh. “I mean I’ve avoided this kind of publicity my entire life.”
“Brandy, it’s all just crap.” Marco threw the paper into the garbage and stepped toward her. “It’ll blow over—”
“No. You guys just don’t understand.” She shook her head and choked back a watery laugh. “I’m not this person. I’m not. This puts me in the same class as…that other heiress.”
“Shit, and that’s a bad thing? Tell me who I have to sleep with to get my ass on the front page.”
“Elena.” Alfredo gave his daughter a sharp look, before turning back to Brandy. “It is not that bad, is it?”
“It’s just a place I promised myself I’d never end up.”
“Well, if you ask me? It’s a good thing.” Elena grinned and grabbed her arm. “And you have to admit being a little bad can be fun.”
“Oh, jeez. I need—”
“A drink,” Elena said quickly and urged her into another room. “That’s just what I was thinking. Come with me.”
“I don’t need a drink.” Despite her halfhearted protest, she followed the other girl out of the room.
“Tequila?” Elena offered.
“Oh God, no.”
“Wine cooler?”
Brandy sighed and gave a weak shrug. “Okay, why not.”
“Okay. You make yourself comfortable and I’ll grab you one.” Elena turned and winked. “Papa doesn’t like to keep alcohol in the house, so I keep a stash in my room.”
“Of course.” Brandy suppressed a manic giggle and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again Elena strode toward her with a pink bottle in her hand.
“Here you are.”
“Thanks.” Brandy twisted off the lid and took a sip of the fruity drink.
Elena folded her arms across her chest and gave her a pensive look. “So you’re really the Lingerie Heiress?”
“Yes.”
“I always thought it was kind of cool that you never got in trouble like those other chicks…” Elena looked at her feet. “Well, before the bar fight. But I take complete responsibility for that.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“You’re right, it’s Marco’s. We’ll kick his butt.”
Brandy giggled and some of the tension eased from her body.
“I am getting pretty excited over nothing, aren’t I?” she asked after a soft sigh.
“Yeah. Maybe just a little.” Elena shrugged. “Here’s my theory. People know you. People know what to expect from you. One picture and a bullshit article in a newspaper doesn’t mean squat.”
“You’re probably right.”
“I know I am. Now come,” Elena stepped forward and looped her arm through Brandy’s. “Let’s go return you to my brother.”
They arrived into the living room and found Marco and his father deep in conversation. The offensive article lay nearby half hanging out of a garbage can.
“Gonna make a quick phone call, back in a few.” Elena gave her a pat on the shoulder and disappeared.
Marco’s gaze connected with Brandy’s. She gave a slight smile and conveyed a silent apology.
He winked and then turned back to his father who was saying something.
Little flutters gathered in her tummy and her pulse skipped. Last night, while they’d made love, she’d thought herself in love with him.
And now she knew. Without a doubt. She was one hundred percent in love with this man.
“Well, kids.” Alfredo clapped his ha
nds, his smile wide. “I’ll go fire up the barbecue and we can grill some steaks. That okay with everyone? Do you eat meat, Brandy?”
“I love meat.” She grinned at Marco. “In fact, your son recently turned me onto bratwurst.”
“Bratwurst is good.”
“I think that’s pretty much what I said.”
His father laughed and his grin expanded. “I know I’m going to like you, Brandy. Anyway, you guys just hang out while I get the food going.”
“That sounds great, thank you,” Brandy murmured and watched as the older man headed out the back door.
Marco stepped toward her and picked up her hand, giving it a slight squeeze.
“How are you doing?”
“Better.” She bit her lip and winced. “I’m sorry, I totally freaked out.”
“It’s understandable.” He pushed a curl back off her forehead.
She leaned into him and sighed. “Was the article terrible?”
“I didn’t read it—tossed it in the garbage where it belongs.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He kissed her forehead. “And really, thank you.”
“For?”
“Coming with me today. I’ve got too much damn pride, and I don’t think I’d have done it alone. You’re too good to me, Brandy.”
Her cheeks warmed with pleasure. “I could say the same. You basically let me take over your life for the past couple of weeks.”
“You know damn well I didn’t mind.” His eyes darkened. “Let’s go sit outside.”
She curled her fingers around his and followed him into the front yard again. He led her to a porch swing and sat down, patting the spot next to him.
She settled down on the padded swing and snuggled her head against his shoulder. He slipped an arm around her waist and leaned his head on top of hers.
“Tell me about Sugar and Spice.”
The random question made her frown. “What do you want to know?”
“How did your parents get into the lingerie business?”
“Hmm.” She laughed softly. “They fell in love young, were actually a couple of hippies. Except the only free love they practiced was with each other.”
“That’s sweet.”
“It was really.” She stared out over the brown mountains and vast land. Stark and beautiful in its own way. “They were always the real artistic types. My dad made his own pottery and my mom loved to design and make her own clothing. Specifically lingerie. They’d travel to festivals and shows and sell their stuff.”
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