Rand (A 3 Brides for 3 Bad Boys Novella)

by Lucy Monroe

  She didn’t say anything, but he could feel the wild beat of her heart in the pulse under his fingers. Her skin was so smooth, so soft. His thumb glided over it, seeking the animal pleasure the small movement gave him. The idea of taking her to his bed was a hell of a lot more appealing than it should have been.

  Since Susan’s death, he had not wanted any particular woman, just physical release. And he’d taken it, with women sophisticated enough to know the score and accept the tally.

  Phoebe was neither of those.

  She was white roses, wedding registries and babies.

  He shuddered at the thought. Never again.

  Which was why he had ignored the way her eyes ate him alive whenever they were together. It was why he ignored his own base reaction to her slender curves and his desire to touch silky hair that looked like warmed honey when she wore it down. It was why he cursed the dreams that were no longer haunted by his dead wife but a twenty-five year old virgin that he could not and would not have.

  Angry at himself for his lack of mental control and furious at Phoebe for being the source of his sexual frustration, he tugged her to the passenger side of his silver Jaguar. Opening the door, he said, "Get in."

  She didn’t move.

  "What’s the problem?" His jaw clenched. He sounded like an angry lion, no wonder she flinched.

  Then her chin tilted and she straightened to her full height which was a good ten inches shorter than his. "I’m trying to decide if I want to let you boss me around like this, or not."

  He wanted to kiss that mutinous bow of a mouth, which was damned dangerous. "You do."

  Even sweet Phoebe had her limits. Any second now, she was going to blast him with a pithy lecture on equality between the sexes and then stomp away. Which was exactly what he wanted.

  To hell with what his sex was clamoring for. Going horizontal, hot and sweaty with Phoebe was not on the agenda. No way. No how.

  Hazel eyes that should be shooting sparks of anger went dark with unmistakable sexual hunger. "Maybe I do at that."

  He stood there, sucker-punched, while she got in the car, tucking the folds of her swirling skirt inside and pulling the door shut. Stunned disbelief and desire so strong it made his knees want to buckle held him immobile for several seconds before he circled the car and got in.

  He turned to face her. Her hands were twisted together in her lap and her face was averted. So much for her sexual daring. He dismissed the disappointment ripping at his insides as a normal reaction to having to go without sex when he wanted it more than he wanted that damn island.

  He started the engine and pulled the powerful car out of its parking space. "Right. We need to talk."

  There was no pretty way to package the truth, so he didn’t even try. "Carter came back because he wants Luna Island. So do I."

  "I got that much at the reception." She didn’t sound real bothered by the fact. "But what I don’t understand is why? I’d understand if you were land developers, but you’re not. Your company is into computers and Sloane Electronics makes televisions and things. What good would a Mexican island do either of you? Nobody even lives there."

  "Satellite scans have revealed a large deposit of lithium."

  She stared at him like he was talking Swahili. "So?"

  He found himself smiling. He liked the way she went directly to the point. In a society that thrived on socially acceptable dishonesty, Phoebe’s straight forward attitude was more than refreshing. He’d realized in the past few years that it could be addictive.

  "It’s a mineral that is in short supply worldwide and a deposit like this could bring down the cost of manufacturing lithium based products significantly."

  "But how could you both need it?"

  "It’s used in flat screen technology for both computer monitors and televisions."

  "I see."

  "Do you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You and Carter were engaged, but he didn’t come back for you." It was important she understood that and didn’t get taken in by his brother’s charm.

  "Contrary to my aunt’s fond hopes, I didn’t imagine for a minute that he had."

  "You’re bound to be vulnerable to him."

  "Am I?"

  He flicked a glance at her, but it revealed nothing.

  "You were engaged once."

  "That was a long time ago. Things change. People change."

  "You haven’t married. You hardly date. Everyone thinks you’ve been waiting for Carter to come back."

  "I wouldn’t have considered you the type to listen to gossip."

  "It makes sense."

  "I suppose it does." She adjusted her seat-belt across her chest, pressing her delicate curves into prominence. "But whoever thinks I’ve been pining for Carter is wrong."

  Her words registered, but so did the shape of her breasts. He had to make a fast correction to stop from driving off the road as need, sharp and urgent, arced through him.

  "I’m glad to hear that." He didn’t want her hurt by his brother a second time, but he wasn’t sure he believed her.

  She’d been devastated when Carter had left four years ago.

  She fiddled with her skirt, smoothing it over her knees. "You said you’d give me a week in your bed in exchange for the deed, is that right?"

  This time he narrowly missed going up on the sidewalk and swore. "I was being sarcastic. Your aunt and Carter’s mother pissed me off. I wanted to shock the look of condescending disapproval right off their faces." The fact that he had wanted to get Phoebe away from Carter, he left unsaid. "I don’t expect you to sleep with me. I’ll pay fair price for the island and give you an ongoing percentage on the minerals mined."

  He drove the Jag into the parking garage for his apartment building and pulled into his assigned spot. Turning off the ignition, he said, "We can go over the details upstairs. You’ll probably want to have a geologist’s survey done."

  She didn’t move. "A deal is a deal."

  What deal?

  No way could she seriously expect him to take her to bed. She’d just been spouting off, protecting him as she often did when she thought someone was criticizing him. It was an endearing trait if unnecessary.

  He’d stopped worrying about what other people thought the year he learned his dad was married to a woman besides his mother and he had a half-brother he’d never met.

  "Come off it, honey. The joke has gone far enough. We need to talk business."

  Her sweet lips firmed in a stubborn line. "I’m not joking."

  "And I’m no stud for the hire," he gritted out.

  She looked completely unimpressed by that assurance. "Then I’ll just have to offer the deal to Carter. He liked me well enough once to want to marry me; maybe he won’t find it such a hardship to take me to bed."

  CHAPTER THREE

  "Tell me you didn’t just say that."

  She shook her head, her face an interesting shade of red.

  Phoebe Garrison, undeniably shy and almost certainly a virgin, had just threatened to offer her island in exchange for a week in his damned brother’s bed if Rand didn’t stick with the deal. He refused to believe it.

  She was silent enough now. Sitting there with her legs crossed primly at the ankle under her silky skirt.

  This whole discussion was crazy.

  She had to be bluffing, but if she wasn’t, his brother could have bedded Phoebe and signed the papers on the mineral rights by morning.

  Rand’s teeth ground together.

  He was not taking her to bed, but neither was Carter.

  She’d better regain her sanity soon because he was close to losing his. He shoved his door open. "Come on."

  She hadn’t unbuckled her seatbelt. "Where are we?"

  "My apartment."

  "What are we doing here?"

  He rolled his eyes at the question asked in such a tiny voice. One minute she was demanding he pay for Luna Island with his sexual expertise, the next she was acting like a
frightened maiden from a medieval fantasy.

  "It’s where I keep my bed," he said to punish her for tempting him with something he could not have even as he felt relief that her insanity appeared to be ebbing.

  "You want to consummate the deal now?"

  The word consummate brought back memories of marriage and loss and renewed his determination to get this conversation back on a rational track. He slammed out of the Jag.

  Circling the car, he yanked her door open. "Come on."

  Her head snapped back and her startled gaze settled on him. "I... uh..."

  "For Heaven’s sake," he muttered as he leaned over her to unbuckle her seat belt and then help her from the car. "I’m not going to rape you. We need to talk and now is as good a time as any."

  He slid his arm around her waist to lead her to the elevator. He never touched her and now he couldn’t seem to stop. He pulled her closer until their bodies touched torso to thigh, teasing himself and tormenting her. She deserved it.

  She did a pretty good imitation of a walking statue, holding herself completely stiff beside him.

  And she said she wanted him to be her lover, he thought with a derision that bordered on disappointment.

  He leaned around her to push the button for the elevator. The force he used to press the small white square said an awful lot about his mood. None of it good. He used the keypad to access the penthouse level and the elevator began its silent ascent.

  She moved like she was going to pull away, but he tugged her closer. "If you’re going to be my lover, you’d better get used to me touching you."

  She sucked in air, but didn’t attempt to move away again, and it only took a few seconds for him to regret his impulse to hold her. She felt way too good next to his body. His sex stood to attention and saluted the soft floral scent of her skin as it teased his senses. He gritted his teeth.

  Her breath was coming in short pants and her heartbeat was visible in a tantalizing pulse on her neck.

  He wanted to kiss that pulse, wanted to taste the smooth, creamy skin. He let his gaze slide to the perfect small curves of her breasts encased in the shimmering moss colored satin of her bodice. And damn if he didn’t regret the impulse when the small shoals created by hard nipples caught and held his attention with the power of a mind magnet.

  She was excited.

  So was he. Aching with it. Hot and hard flesh strained against his pants and he wanted to take her body and make it his against the wall of the small enclosure.

  Thankfully the elevator doors opened at that moment. He dragged her into his apartment and peeled away from her immediately, needing to breathe air not scented by her feminine fragrance.

  It didn’t help.

  He turned on her and glared. "Tell me you didn’t mean that about sharing my bed."

  She swallowed and shook her head.

  "Good. Now, let’s discuss this like mature adults."

  Her hands fisted at her sides and she took a deep breath. "I did mean it."

  His temper exploded. "Damn it, Phoebe—"

  "Don’t swear at me, Rand Alexander," she interrupted before he could warm to his tirade. "If you will remember, you were the one who told my great-aunt and your brother you intended to take me to bed."

  "I’m not some da—" He cut himself off and was angry at himself for doing so. "I am not a stud for hire. If you want to pay a man to warm your bed, I suggest you try an escort service."

  She visibly recoiled from his words, but the stubborn little chin came up again. "May I remind you that the terms of this deal were your idea? You said you would give me a week in your bed if I gave you deed to Luna Island."

  "I was pissed. I didn’t mean it."

  "Were you?" She looked down her nose at him which was no mean feat considering how much smaller she was. "It was always my understanding that a businessman’s word was his bond."

  "This is not a business deal!"

  She jumped at his bellow and he sighed. She was nuts, but he didn’t want to scare her. He liked Phoebe. It wasn’t her fault he wanted her in a way that he couldn’t deal with.

  "Look, honey, this is crazy. I’ll pay you fair market value for the island and a percentage of the minerals extracted." Repeating the offer didn’t do him a bit of good.

  She shook her head vehemently. "We’ve already agreed on terms."

  "Are you so desperate to lose your virginity, you’re willing to blackmail a man into taking you to bed?" It was a stab in the dark, but her wild blush confirmed his guess.

  She glared at him. "I repeat: the terms of the deal were your idea."

  "Honey, this is not the way you want to lose your cherry."

  ***

  Phoebe felt like exploding. "What would you know about it? You’ve had more women than restaurant lunches in the last year. I’m twenty-five years old. I’ve been engaged, but I’ve never gone to bed with anyone and that is going to change."

  "Not with me, it won’t."

  She stared at him, all of her anger fading fast as reality finally intruded on the madness that had held her in its grip since he had made the unbelievable offer in the first place.

  What was she doing?

  She couldn’t blackmail or bribe Rand into making love to her. Not even for the price of an island he wanted.

  A man had to desire a woman to sleep with her and Rand did not want Phoebe. Contrary to his earlier assurances, he didn’t even really see her as a woman. Certainly he realized she was a female of his species, but that was clinical. He had no desire for her femininity.

  Why should he?

  She wasn’t the type of woman to inspire uncontrollable passion, or even mild desire, apparently.

  Carter hadn’t wanted her either.

  They’d been engaged, but he had never attempted to cross the line she’d set during their courtship.

  She’d have better luck going to the doctor to get her virginity dealt with than looking to the one man who was capable of sparking passionate fires deep inside her.

  Without saying another word, she spun on her heel and headed for the elevator. She pressed the button and said something truly shocking under her breath when she realized it was in use and she would have to wait for it.

  "Where are you going?"

  He was right behind her, the animal magnetism of his body drawing her in cruel mockery.

  "Back to the reception." She couldn’t believe she’d left in the first place. As an organizer, she was responsible for making sure everything ran smoothly. And Rand was supposed to make a speech later.

  "Like hell."

  She ignored his temper and willed the elevator doors to open.

  "You are not going to bed with my brother."

  She wondered if she was going to make it to the elevator before the tears came. They were burning her eyes and making her throat ache from holding them in. Why in the world had she fallen in love with a man incapable of feeling that emotion? And what cruel trick of Providence had decided her body would crave him like an addict craved their next fix?

  His big hand landed on her bare skin, burning her with sexual energy he was oblivious to, and she silently cursed the off the shoulder style of her gown. It was all she could do not to turn around and beg him to put her body out of its misery, to have sex with her even if he couldn’t love her. The pride her aunt had accused her of nursing earlier was in a puddle of need around her feet.

  "I’m not letting you leave while you’re talking crazy like this, honey."

  The bell dinged and the doors to the elevator started to slide open. Rand reached around her and pressed a button that closed them again.

  "Why did you do that?" she asked in a voice strained by the pain she was holding inside.

  She should be used to losing, but it still hurt. She’d lost her parents, first to wanderlust and then to death. Then her uncle had died, leaving her Luna Island and a heart that missed the kind old man. Carter had done his flit a year later.

  She’d never even had Rand
to begin with.

  Her current pain was all out of proportion.

  "We’re not done talking."

  She’d already humiliated herself in front of him, exposing her desperation and her desire. She could not stand adding to that humiliation by losing control of her emotions and she was terrified that was exactly what would happen if she didn’t get out of there right now.

  "Yes we are." She stabbed at the down button. The doors opened.

  Rand pressed the close button.

  "Open it." Her voice was shrill, even to her own ears, but she was desperate to get out of there.

  "No."

  She spun to face him, dislodging his hand from her shoulder. "You have no right to keep me here."

  "I’m not going to let you leave until you’ve calmed down."

  "You mean until you’re sure I won’t hand my island over to Carter?" she taunted, relieved that anger had superceded the urge to cry.

  "He wants the island, not you. Don’t you see that?"

  Rand sounded furious and she could imagine why. He was convinced she was going to sign the mineral rights over to his half-brother.

  "That makes two of you then, doesn’t it?"

  Frustration burned in his silver-gray eyes. "It’s not the same thing, damn it."

  They both wanted the island. Neither man wanted her personally. The only difference was that with Carter, she didn’t care. Rand’s rejection was shredding a heart already tenderized by watching him flirt with another woman.

  For the sake of what was left of her pride, she had to get away from him. She spun around again and stabbed the elevator button. It took two tries because once again, tears were blurring her vision, but she got it. The doors slid open just as she went airborn.

  Two strong arms supported her against the rock-solid wall of his chest. "You’re not leaving."

  Trying to push herself out of his arms, she glared up at him through the wetness in her eyes. "Put me down, Rand."

  His hold tightened and he shook his head. "You’re not acting rational."

  "So you’re going to hold me against my will until I do, or until I agree to sell you the island?" The sarcasm would have no doubt been more effective if it hadn’t been delivered with a breaking voice.