Never a morning person, Piper had chosen the nursery’s west bedroom where she wouldn’t be disturbed by the rising sun. Placing the clothing into her suitcase, she straightened and looked through the mullioned windows of the room’s French doors. A tiny bistro table and chairs took up most of the private widow’s walk balcony. In the distance, afternoon sunlight glinted off the pond at the edge of the clearing. The reflection of the wooded grove beyond the water wavered as a crane danced its feet along the surface to land in a smooth glide.
Piper loved the tranquility of the manor’s acres and would surely be ready to return after five weeks away. Not that she didn’t enjoy the hustle and bustle of life in the city, but it wasn’t home. Her Da used to say she’d been born under a wandering star, but had a homing bird’s soul.
A spear of grief pierced her heart.
Travel had once been a big part of her life. She’d lived for the adventure of a new place, a new culture, a new sunset, which had been a big part of her attraction to Cody. If she’d been born under a wandering star, he was a nomad. Boredom inevitably set in if he spent more than a day or two in one place. She’d happily tagged along as he chased one sunset after the next, with biweekly stops at the manor to recalibrate her homing signal.
It wasn’t until she’d received word of her father’s death and had returned home to the manor for good that she’d realized how unappealing her life with Cody Beckett had actually been. In truth, giving up the man and his nomadic ways to save her beloved manor had been more of a relief than a hardship. She’d supposedly loved him but, if not for the fallout, thanks to his egotistical need to place the blame for their broken engagement on something or someone other than himself, parting ways with him would have been a mostly positive experience.
And what did that say about her? It wasn’t as if she was incapable of loving another human being. Her love for Da had been boundless, and Tilly, Moira, and Angus each held an irrefutable piece of her heart. Still, she wondered if perhaps she was one of those people who were incapable of true romantic love.
The concept saddened her, but there were worse fates. Like spending her life locked in a loveless marriage or, God forbid, obtaining the first divorce of the Delaney line. Still, she wanted a family some day and would need a husband if she were to produce the next Baroness of Delaney, as was expected.
Besides, she enjoyed men too much to pull off spinster.
Her nipples puckered helplessly as the memory of Wyatt’s kiss snuck into her head. She slid her palms over the tightened peaks. The pressure only made matters worse. With a grimace, she imagined the rumble of four hundred years of ancestors rolling over in their graves as she added Wyatt Hunter to her list of mistakes. Because, let’s face it, the Marauders’ sexy quarterback would no doubt provide a hot and heavy distraction for a time, but he was no more marriage material than Cody had been.
Dropping her hands to her sides, she returned to her packing. It was a shame, but if she’d learned nothing else from her time with Cody, it was that a simple life, lived with a simple man, was the way to go. Now, if she could just find him.
“Okay, luv. It’s just me here, so fess up. What aren’t you telling us?”
Jolted by the unexpected interruption, Piper pivoted her head to find Moira standing in the doorway of the common bath. “Whatever do you mean?”
Moira snorted and crossed her arms. “You look so melancholy I’m about to burst into tears.”
The complaint was vintage Moira, and brought a smile to Piper’s lips. She came up with the best excuse she could think of. “I was thinking of Da, and how much I’m going to miss you all and Delaney Manor while I’m gone.”
Moira dropped her arms and approached the bed. Climbing onto the foot of the mattress, she wrapped an arm around the mahogany post in a cross-legged slouch. “I thought you were excited about the Marauders’ job offer.”
“I am.” Piper smoothed her stack of silk blouses into her suitcase. “Good Lord, Moira. With the conversion rate, the job pays close to sixty-five thousand pounds. Combined with the three-hundred-fifty I have saved, I’ll be within eighty-five thousand of getting Abigail off our backs once and for all.” She picked up her favorite cream with bold florals bra and panties set and folded them neatly. Dipping her head, she tucked the fine lace into the case. “And if I play my cards right, there is a good chance I can pick up that much and more with a side project.”
“What side project?” When Piper didn’t answer immediately, Moira straightened from the post and bent low until she could see her face. “You’re blushing, Piper.” She let out a piercing squeal. “Oh my God. You met a guy!”
Piper winced at the sheer volume of the comment. Thank God the house was empty of guests for the day or Tilly would be sitting them both down to repeat her proper “Innkeeper Decorum” lecture. Shaking her head, Piper folded more of her lingerie into the bag.
“Technically, I met quite a few guys. You might not have known this, but American football teams are chock full of them.”
Moira’s scowl was pure exasperation. “Don’t be cheeky. Who is he?”
Experience had taught Piper that keeping a secret from Moira was next to impossible. It could be done, of course, and had been, as with the deadline to pay off Abigail, but when it came to guys, Moira seemed to have a sixth sense. Somehow, she’d always known the moment a boy had caught Piper’s eye.
Still, as guy crazy as Moira could be, she was surprisingly level-headed. She also loved Piper. Unlike those grave-rolling ancestors, Moira wouldn’t judge if Piper were to temporarily forget she was supposed to be looking for a simple guy and take the Marauders’ sexy quarterback up on his invitation to that private suite at the Plaza.
Sighing, she plunged in with both feet. “His name is Wyatt Hunter.”
A grin creased Moira’s freckled face. “I knew it!”
Piper smiled and shook her head. “Yes, well, it’s not exactly what you think.”
Moira wrenched forward to slide her cell phone from the back pocket of her jeans. She snorted as her thumbs raced over the screen. “That blush says differently.”
Piper sighed. “Okay, maybe it is, but…. Oh, bother. Are you Googling him?”
The look Moira shot her said clearly, Well, duh.
Piper picked up her stack of linen slacks with an internal shrug. She wouldn’t need to see the screen to know when Moira pulled up Wyatt’s profile.
And… There it was. Her friend’s audible gasp said it all.
Moira spoke without taking her eyes from the phone’s screen. “Please tell me you lied about spending the weekend with the Tuckers and that you were actually shacked up with, and shagging, this sex god for the past forty-eight hours.”
Piper laughed as she craned her neck to check out Wyatt’s picture. Leave it to Moira to point out the obvious. Sex god was an apt description for the tanned face capped with unruly blond hair smiling on the screen.
“Sorry to disappoint you, dearest.”
“I’m not the one who should be disappointed.” Moira’s strawberry-blond curls bounced as she shook her head. “He’s positively edible.” She slowly dragged her gaze up to meet Piper’s. “Well, then, if you weren’t having carnal knowledge of the sexy Yank, why the blush?”
“Because I’d really, really like to have carnal knowledge of this particular Yank.” Piper squeezed her eyelids shut in a grimace.
“Way to go, Piper! And, might I say, it’s about bloody time.”
Her eyes popped open on a strangled laugh. “Of course, you’d say that, since he’s lovely to look at, but...”
“Stupendously lovely.”
She’d get no argument from Piper on that.
Moira sighed dramatically. “Outrageously peng.”
Or that.
“He’s fucking gorgeous,” her friend proclaimed.
Piper coughed on a laugh, an
d shot a glance at the open doorway.
Moira waved her off. “Not to worry, Baroness. Mum is in the village having lunch with the DW’s.”
Piper relaxed and turned back. The Dowager Wannabes, as Tilly and her friends referred to themselves, met once a month and the luncheon rarely lasted less than four hours. Piper eyed the phone in Moira’s hand. “You’re quite right about Wyatt Hunter. He’s all that and more.”
“I have the feeling there is a but coming.”
Piper smirked. “But he’s also a professional athlete, which puts him clearly in the off-limits column. At least for me.”
Moira cocked her head. “Why is that?” At Piper’s bland stare, Moira narrowed her eyes to slits. “Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”
“I most certainly can. The last thing I need is some nosey reporter announcing to the world that The Gold-Digging Baroness has set her sights on another unsuspecting jock.” She slashed her hand through the air. “No, from now on, I’m looking for an unassuming man. Preferably one from the country with no particular wealth to muddy the waters.”
Moira rolled her eyes and affected an upper crust whine. “Yes, those poor, vulnerable multi-millionaires. Why, they’re like babes in the wood, having absolutely no defense against scheming predators like the Baroness of Delaney.” She blew a raspberry through puckered lips.
Piper chuckled. “That is exactly the type of thing the headlines will say, and you know it.”
Moira shook her head. “So, what you’re saying is, not only did that wanker, Cody, feed you to the wolves for not selling out your home and friends so that you could follow him around the world—like the rest of his lovers, I might add—you’re now going to let his memory put limitations on the men you’re allowed to see?”
Piper frowned at the reminder she hadn’t been the only woman warming Cody’s bed, despite the ring he’d placed on her finger. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Okay, maybe it is, but it took nearly six months for the fervor to die down and people to finally begin booking the rooms instead of setting up camp at the end of the drive to get their bloody pictures.” And Piper knew only too well, they didn’t have another six months to waste if they were going to keep the manor. “We’re making a solid go of the B&B, Moira, but there is still Abigail’s bequeathment to consider. Until she’s paid in full, we can’t afford another scandal.”
The reality check dulled much of Moira’s indignation. “What about this side job you mentioned? You said it would give you more than enough to cover Abigail’s inheritance.”
“It should.” Piper swallowed. “If I take it.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because the job was offered by Wyatt Hunter, and there’s a very good chance its only purpose was to get me to sleep with him.”
“You poor thing.” Her lips curled in a sly smirk. “I’d be happy to volunteer in your place.”
Piper sent her a sidelong glance. “This situation is nothing to joke about.”
“Who’s joking?” Moira snickered, then held up her hands when Piper huffed and returned to yank open another drawer of her dresser. “I’m sorry, luv. What’s the side job?”
Piper continued to pack clothing into her suitcase as she filled her friend in on what had happened in the Tuckers’ kitchen. Moira’s eyes went dreamy, and she fanned herself as she listened to Piper’s retelling of the kiss she and Wyatt had shared. She laughed at the lucky charm reference, and her brows shot to her hairline at the amount of money he’d offered. Her mouth twisted in thought at how V Fitzpatrick had suggested Piper turn the tables on a man V supposedly considered a friend.
“You’re right,” Moira proclaimed when Piper finished. “It’s obvious he was throwing out options, hoping something would stick in order to keep you in Manhattan.”
And, as V predicted, he wouldn’t pull back on his seduction attempts. Considering how quickly Piper had fallen into their sizzling kiss, how long would she be able to hold out? She wouldn’t, and therein lay the problem.
She slumped onto the mattress with a sigh. “Added to what the Marauders will be paying me, the money he offered would make all the difference in the world, but I don’t dare take him up on it.”
Disappointment clouded Moira’s eyes. “Why not?”
Piper flopped onto her back. “You’ve seen his picture. Believe me, he’s even more intense in person.” She dropped her arm to her side and pivoted her head to meet Moira’s waiting gaze. “He’s gorgeous, charming, and funny, too.”
“Ugh.” Moira slapped a hand to her chest. “Triple whammy.”
Piper snorted, half laugh, half whimper. “I held him off after that kiss because I had a plane to catch, but it wasn’t easy. Do you know long it’s been since I’ve had sex? Forget sex. Since a man has kissed me?”
“Two years, ten months, and fourteen days?” Moira supplied deadpan.
A laugh this time. “Close enough. The thing is, Moira, I’ve never been so quickly attracted to a man. Or so strongly. Not even Cody.” Beyond his over-the-top sexiness and larger-than-life personality, Wyatt Hunter had an uncanny ability to make Piper laugh. Even when she didn’t want to. A dangerous combination, that. She screwed up her mouth in a grimace as she considered the truth of that statement, then shrugged. “Especially not Cody. And Wyatt made it clear he’s in the same leaky boat when it comes to our apparent, mutual attraction. If he makes even the slightest push toward the bedroom, I won’t last longer than it takes to fall into the nearest bed.”
Moira blinked, and from the way she jammed her lips together, she was trying not to laugh. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Piper groaned and slung her arm over her eyes.
The mattress bumped as Moira resettled against the post. “Let’s think this through, shall we?” A pause, then, “You like him, right? Right?” She prompted when Piper didn’t reply.
“Right. I think. Or maybe I’m completely blinded by lust.”
“I’m marking that down as a yes.” A rustle of the bedding as Moira folded her legs beneath her. “And he likes you. Obviously, or he wouldn’t have bothered working so hard to come up with ways to keep you in Manhattan.”
The image of Wyatt adjusting his erection through his jeans flashed in Piper’s mind and she slid the arm from her eyes. “I can confirm without a doubt, lust is in play for him as well.”
Moira nodded succinctly. “Okay, two yeses.” She cocked her head. “This V person, his friend, she said the calendar thing was a good idea, right?”
“Well...”
“These are yes or no questions, luv. Don’t overthink them.”
Piper snickered and propped herself up on her elbows. “V said the calendar idea would dovetail nicely with the...” Moira squinted a warning, and Piper cleared her throat. “Um, yes.”
“Good, and she thinks you should charge him the full one hundred thousand he originally offered.”
Piper nodded and sat up. A glance at the clock, and she shoved to her feet. Whether or not she took Wyatt up on his offer, she’d made a deal with V. Her return flight to Manhattan was leaving in four hours and she’d yet to finish packing. She crossed to her closet as Moira drummed her fingers on her knee.
“And Wyatt was willing to pay you that much to simply show up at his games?”
“Yes.” Piper selected several more blouses and matching skirts, and hung them over her arm. On a whim, she tugged another pair of jeans from a hanger and returned to the bed to stuff the entire pile into her suitcase.
“Bugger. Why doesn’t this type of thing ever happen to me?” Piper smiled and arched a brow, and Moira nodded. “Right. V wants you to make his calendar. I’m assuming he would pose for it?”
“That was the impression he gave.” Piper flipped the cover of the case shut.
“Who else, do you think?
His fellow players, I would imagine, especially those he considers friends.” She hummed appreciatively. “You did say he and Tuck were friends, right?”
Piper laughed and tugged on the suitcase’s zipper.
“Seriously. If you need an assistant, I’m your girl.” Moira waved a hand at Piper’s smirk. “Fine. Here’s my conclusion. With you doing his calendar, V gets what she wants, and you’ll get his money. Which, of course, is what you want. The only one not getting everything on their agenda is Wyatt, since he ultimately wants you on the sideline at his games as well as in his bed.” She nodded briskly. “The way I see it, the only fair way to handle this is to make a deal with him.”
Piper muscled her bag from the mattress and onto the floor. “On which? The sideline or the bed?”
“Both, if you’re smart.” Moira’s grin was sharp.
Piper rolled her eyes. “I meant what I said about keeping to unassuming, non-famous guys from now on. They’re ever so much less trouble.”
“That sounds lovely, if you can find one who looks like Wyatt Hunter.”
Piper couldn’t help her snorted laugh.
Moira shrugged. “Whether or not you sleep with him is up to you, but isn’t it time you started living your life again? I’m not saying you should run off and marry the man. Well, unless you want to.” She bit her bottom lip. “Considering his profession...”
“Not to mention his reputation for dating a new woman every week,” Piper added.
Moira nodded. “Yes, well, a quick jaunt to Vegas would probably be a bad idea, but God, luv. For nearly three years, you’ve put everything on hold to take care of everyone but yourself. You deserve one last fling full of good, old-fashioned, rock-your-world sex with a fucking gorgeous guy before you come home and find your simple man.”
“When you put it that way…”
To Win Her Smile Page 7