by Joss Wood
Liam looked around for the object of his thoughts and dreams, and the reason for his confusion. He doubted he’d find her; there were over five hundred people here and she’d be working behind the scenes to make sure that this event went off smoothly. Because, honestly, any mishap today would end her career. She’d had a few chances but if something happened to throw the wedding into disarray—whether it was her fault or not—Teresa would be persona very non grata in Seattle. Forever.
Liam looked around again, checking for threats he couldn’t, admittedly, identify. He saw a young man to the left and his heart rate picked up. Was that Joshua, Teresa’s brother? Looking again, Liam realized that the kid was too young, too fair, and he told himself to calm the hell down.
Taking his drink, he stared out the glass wall to the trees beyond the stream and thought that it would be a wonderful place for the paparazzi to hide, telescopic lenses poking out from between the branches of the trees. Had Teresa thought about that? Brooks would be pissed if unauthorized photos of his wedding hit the wire...
“Will you please stop scowling?”
Liam turned to see Matt with Nadia, as per usual, tucked into his side. They looked happy, content. Maybe, just maybe, Matt and Nadia would avoid the separation and the contentious divorce. He really hoped so. He liked them both, liked the way they looked together.
“Are you okay, Liam?” Nadia asked after kissing his cheek.
“Fine, thanks, Nadia.” Liam forced some joviality into his tone and decided to tease Matt. “When are you going to ditch this this ugly and poor dude, Nadia? You can do so much better.”
Nadia’s mouth pursed and she looked like she was considering his suggestion. “Tempting but...no.” Nadia looked across the room, waved at someone and stepped away from Matt. “I’ll leave you two to chat. I’ve seen someone I want to have a word with.”
Matt watched Nadia walk away with a sappy look on his face. The man was toast. And he looked happy being toast. God help him.
“Quite a party,” Matt commented.
“Yep. I hope everyone enjoyed watching Brooks while he had his spine and balls removed. Hope he gets some kick-ass presents for his trouble.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Hell, that’s cold and cynical, even for you, man.”
Remorse rolled over Liam, cold and greasy. Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck and softly swore. “Sorry. Being here makes me feel scratchy.”
He and Matt were best friends but he couldn’t tell him that he wanted what Matt had, having a woman in his life who was there for him, only for him. Someone whom he could trust, love, rely on.
Liam couldn’t look at Matt—he didn’t want to see the pity on his face and looked toward the glass end wall and there she was, dressed in a halter-neck emerald jumpsuit, looking tall and willowy and so sexy it hurt. Liam immediately felt the ache in his heart and the hitch in his breath. Teresa’s hair was pulled into a loose knot at the back of her neck—no surprise there—and, because she was holding an iPad, everyone knew she was working but she still looked effortlessly classy.
He wanted her. Would there ever be a time when he didn’t? Liam doubted it.
Teresa’s eyes met his and even though they were so far apart, he could see the sadness in her eyes. Why couldn’t they make this work? Why was it hard? Why wasn’t sex enough?
Why did he, more than anything, want to take her in his arms and slow-dance her around the room? For the rest of his life?
And because the thought was knock-him-off-his-feet powerful and equally terrifying, Liam handed Matt his drink and walked toward the exit and toward the valet parking. Ten minutes later he was in his car, speeding back to the city.
* * *
Nicolette swallowed another yawn and resisted the urge to lean her head on Brooks’s very broad, very comfortable shoulder. They were seated at the wedding table and Nic thought that she finally, finally, had a minute alone with her, gulp, new husband. Before either of them had a chance to speak, Brooks’s grandfather—white-haired, white-mustached and bearer of the plummiest of plummy English accents—pulled up a chair next to them and Nic swallowed her frustrated growl.
“Happy birthday, son.”
Nicolette placed her elbow on the table and her chin in her hands. At the altar, she’d whispered a quiet happy birthday to Brooks when she reached his side and, as long as she lived, she’d never forget the emotion in his Cognac-colored eyes: lust and pride and...affection?
“You’re the best birthday present I’ve ever received,” Brooks told her and then he smiled at her and she all but melted at his feet.
Nic gave herself a mental slap and reminded herself that he’d most likely been thinking about the money that was, probably, already lodged in his bank account. The money he needed to take complete control of Abbingdon Airlines.
This wasn’t a fairy tale and Brooks wasn’t about to pluck stars from the sky and hand them to her. Despite her glorious dress and the pretty flowers and the amazing food and venue—Teresa had cemented her reputation as one of the best event coordinators in the city—this wedding was still a sham, a short-lived arrangement. She couldn’t afford to forget that.
And she couldn’t allow her full-blown, very grown-up and kick-ass attraction to her brand-new husband to complicate this imbroglio any further. Imbroglio, what a lovely word...
“So marriage plus your birthday must mean that you have liquidated your trust fund,” Lester said.
Brooks’s expression turned inscrutable and Nic noticed his grim smile. “As we sit here, a formal offer to buy your shares in Abbingdon Airlines is winging its way to your inbox. In terms of our agreement, you have to accept my offer.”
“Yes, I saw that.”
Brooks pushed his hand through his hair. “I don’t mean to bring up an old argument but I really think you investing in that hotel chain is a very bad idea.”
“So you’ve said.” Lester sipped his drink and regarded Brooks over the rim. “Okay, I’ll take your advice and not invest.”
If she wasn’t absolutely wiped and feeling equally overwhelmed, Nic might’ve smiled at Brooks’s astonishment. She figured it didn’t happen very often. “What?”
“You’re better at business than I am. Since I no longer need all your millions, would you like them back? As a wedding present?”
Brooks’s mouth fell open and he glanced at the glass in Lester’s hand. “How many of those have you had?” he demanded.
“Enough.” Lester drained his drink and pushed himself to his feet. Ignoring Brooks’s suspicious expression, he picked up Nic’s hand and dropped an old-fashioned kiss on her knuckles.
“You are truly lovely, Nicolette. I look forward to getting to know you better.” Lester squeezed her hand and sent her a soft smile. “You’ve married the best of us, my dear. Welcome to the family.”
Lester drifted off and Brooks’s eyes followed his progress across the room. When Lester disappeared, he looked at Nic, lifted his hands and shook his head. “What the hell—”
Nic lifted her hand to her mouth to hide her yawn. “Problem?”
Brooks frowned. “On the surface, no. But I think I’ve just been thoroughly outmaneuvered by that wily old fox.”
Okay, she was battling to keep up. “I don’t understand.”
His smile was a mixture of ruefulness and amusement. “I don’t think he ever intended to invest. This was all about getting me married.”
Nic wanted to pay attention, she really did, but she felt her eyes closing and when Brooks cupped her cheek into his hand, she sighed. If he just held her head, just like that, she could probably sleep. Yeah, that would go down well with his friends and business associates. She could see the headlines...
BORED ALREADY? ABBINGDON’S NEW WIFE FALLS ASLEEP AT WEDDING TABLE.
Nic straightened her spine and rolled her head to release some knots. She knew tha
t Brooks was staring at her but she couldn’t meet his eyes, fearing that he would see how much she wanted him, how much she ached to take this evening to its natural conclusion. Back to business, chick. “Right, who else should we talk to?”
Brooks gripped her chin and tipped it up, forcing Nic to meet his eyes. Warm eyes, eyes the color of burned sugar. “I just want to sit here and look at you,” Brooks said, his deep voice soft and sensuous. “You look absolutely exquisite, Nic.”
Nic’s hand drifted over her full skirt. “Thank you. You look pretty good yourself.”
He snorted. “I’m just a guy in a tux. You, on the other hand, look perfect.”
She wanted to believe him, she did, but she didn’t want to set herself up to feel disappointed. She liked Brooks. God help her if she fell in love with him.
Brooks pushed back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal the simple face of what she assumed to be a very expensive watch. Brooks lifted one strong eyebrow. “Want to get out of here?”
She very much did. She wanted a hot shower, to wash her hair and brush her teeth and collapse in a heap. Nic just nodded.
Brooks stood up, took her hand and pulled back her chair. Nic rose and sighed when she saw a well-known, very charismatic senator heading in their direction. Brooks ran his thumb over her cheekbone and placed his hand on her hip, pulling her close. Nic held her breath, thinking he was about to kiss her and ignored her disappointment when his lips brushed her ear. “Excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Wait five minutes and when you leave, turn right down the passage instead of left. There’s an emergency exit and there’s a car waiting there for you.”
Oh, that sounded like heaven. She could, absolutely, do that. But...what then? Where would she go? Where should she go? Back to her house, back to his? Nicolette hadn’t thought of what would happen after they said their I-do’s but she didn’t want this evening to end.
Brooks brushed her lips once, then twice, and Nic heard his frustrated sigh. “Bathroom, emergency exit, limo.”
Nic took the moment—she shouldn’t have but she did—and slapped her lips on his in a hard, desperate kiss. As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her back and forced herself not to turn around and bellow her burning questions across the room.
What now? Where am I going? Am I going to see you later?
* * *
Nic wrapped her arms around her pillow and, smelling the sea, opened her eyes. A sheer curtain fluttered in the window as a warm wind rushed over her face and shoulders, before picking up and blowing the fabric to one side. Nic gasped as she caught a glimpse of a sparkling infinity pool and beyond that, a blue-green ocean. Sitting up, Nic looked down and saw that she was dressed in an oversize T-shirt. Then she saw the wedding band on her finger and her eyes darted to the ring finger on her right hand to the spectacular ring Brooks placed there when she agreed to marry him.
She was married to Brooks; she remembered the wedding. Nic wrapped her arms around her knees, yawned and recalled Brooks sliding into the limo next to her and his brief order to his driver to take them to the airport. Fighting sleep—by that point she’d been beyond exhaustion—she’d asked her new husband where they were going.
She vaguely recalled him saying something about a no-strings honeymoon, that she should sleep and when he’d tapped his shoulder, suggesting that she rest her head against it, she had. He’d carried her on his plane and placed her on a bed in the private cabin. She’d apparently, somehow, slept through the flight and the drive from the airport to...wherever this was.
Flinging back the sheet, Nic padded across the room to the veranda and stepped onto an expansive balcony. Walking past the infinity pool, she stopped at the tempered glass that served as a wall and looked down. Nic sucked in her breath at the thirty-meter drop on the other side of the barrier. The cliff ended in a small, white, what looked to be private, beach.
And then beyond that, a hundred yards of shallow, crystal-clear, blue sea. So...
Wow.
“Morning, sleepyhead.”
Nic smiled at his low, deep voice and slowly turned. Brooks was lying on a lounger under the shade of an umbrella, wearing designer sunglasses and a pair of plain black swimming shorts. He was also wearing miles and miles of tawny skin covering big, defined muscles. Oh, God, she’d known that he was in shape but hadn’t thought he’d have such muscled legs, big arms and a washboard stomach.
Nic pushed her hand into what she knew was messy hair and wished that she’d taken the time to shower, to brush her teeth. He looked like chocolate-covered sin and she...
Didn’t.
“Hi.” Nic sent a longing look to the room she left and wondered if he’d think she was nuts if she bolted back inside and hit the shower. Probably. Definitely. Nic, knowing that she couldn’t keep staring at him—oh, how she wanted to!—looked at the blindingly white house behind them before gesturing to the sea. “Where are we?”
“St. Barts. This is one of the Abbingdon vacation homes.”
One of their homes? “How many do you have?”
Brooks pushed his sunglasses to rest on top of his head. “A few.” Those rich eyes drifted over her in frank admiration. “You’re looking so much better. You were totally out of it for a while.”
Nic colored. “I haven’t slept much lately. I suppose it all caught up with me. And when I did sleep, I didn’t get any rest.”
“Did the thought of marrying me give you nightmares?” Brooks asked, swinging his feet to the floor.
She couldn’t tell him that she was terrified of falling in love with him, petrified that one day, probably sooner rather than later, she’d have to walk away from him after sampling a taste of what life with Brooks was like. Oh, the wealth was...nice, she supposed, but if he lost everything tomorrow, she knew that she’d still want to wake up to his beautiful eyes, that hard body, that slow smile.
Man, how was she going to resist him? Seeing that he was still waiting for an answer, Nic shrugged. “Change is always scary.”
“It can be. It can also be exciting and thrilling and life-changing,” Brooks quietly stated, standing up. “Well, we’re here for a week and there’s not a hell of a lot to do besides tan and swim and snorkel. I need to work for a few hours but I could also do with some downtime.”
A week on the beach? It sounded like heaven. There was only one thing that would make it better...
Don’t, Nic, it’s not a good idea.
He said that it was a no-strings honeymoon, that he didn’t expect anything. Actually, she remembered hearing a great deal of hope in his voice but that might’ve been extreme tiredness causing her imagination to run riot. There was only one way to find out...
If you sleep with him, it’ll be so much harder to walk away.
But if I don’t sleep with him I might lose my mind.
“Do you want me?”
Oh, God, she’d intended those words to come out smooth and a little carefree, not desperate and demanding. He was going to think she was as gauche as a teenager...
When it came to Brooks Abbingdon, she was.
Brooks tensed and his head snapped up and his gaze pinned her to the floor. He swallowed and when he spoke, Nic heard the rough edge in his normally smooth voice. “I want you so much I can barely breathe.”
Phew. Well...
Good.
Brooks stayed where he was, his arms folded against his chest, his fingers digging into his biceps. Why wasn’t he moving? Didn’t he understand what she was offering? Nic lifted her thumb to gnaw the edge of a nonexistent cuticle. “Um...well...crap, I don’t know what to say now.”
“You could say that you want me, too,” Brooks stated but Nic heard a touch of insecurity underneath his evenly stated words.
“I thought that was as obvious as a sixty-foot flashing neon sign,” Nic admitted. “That’s a big part of why I haven’t been sleeping.”
/>
“Because you’ve been thinking about me?”
Nic blushed but nodded. “There have been a couple of dreams that have been real and I wake up, hovering on the edge of...” She stumbled over her words and waved her hand. “Oh, God, shut up now, Nic.”
“I’d really prefer that you didn’t,” Brooks said, amusement in his eyes. And then he, finally, started to move. Nic watched his long-legged stride, saw the erection pulling his trunks tight, and wondered where all the saliva in her mouth had gone.
When he was a few feet from her, Nic held up her hand. “This has nothing to do with anything else, our fake marriage or our business arrangement.”
“We left that behind in Seattle,” Brooks agreed. “All of it. It’s just me, Brooks, desperate to kiss you, Nic.”
She wanted that, too, wanted his mouth on hers...oh, yuck! Her mouth! Ack!
Nic slapped her hand over her mouth and saw Brooks’s eyes widen. He stopped and lifted an eyebrow. “And now?” he asked.
“I need a shower and to brush my teeth.” Nic mumbled the words against the palm of her hand.
Brooks smiled at her and he looked ten years younger. Bending his knees, he placed his shoulder against her stomach and wrapped one arm around her bare thighs. Hoisting her up and over his shoulder, he patted her satin-covered butt and walked her down the veranda toward the far end of the house. As he stepped into an expansive master suite, Nic saw that the room was at the end of the house and was open on two sides. The view from this room was more stunning, if that was at all possible, than the view from her room.
Her heart pounding and her temperature rising, but that could be because Brooks’s hand had sneaked between the tops of her thighs, she was carried by Brooks as he walked her past a massive bed and into an open-air bathroom. Allowing her to slide down his body, oh, wow, he was hot and hard...everywhere, Brooks turned her to face one of the two basins. Rummaging in the cupboard below, he pulled out a brand-new toothbrush and removed it from its packaging. Handing her the brush and a tube of toothpaste, he told her she had two minutes.