by Jayci Lee
“No. I wouldn’t dream of imposing on you like that. I’ll only be here a while.” Natalie waved her hands.
“You don’t need to feel like a guest while you live here. It’ll be as much your home as mine.” If Mike or Adelaide heard him, they’d be shocked. Garrett valued his privacy as though his life depended on it.
“That’s very kind of you.” Her lashes fluttered shyly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he whispered. Her sincere words touched and humbled him. “Thank you for rescuing me from an unwanted marriage.”
“Don’t thank me, yet. You won’t be safe until I ruin you for good.” Her mischievous smile made him hold his breath. “I’ll pack over the weekend and move in by Sunday.”
His breath left him in a hoot of laughter, and he enveloped her in a bear hug and swung her off her feet. She squealed and held on to his shoulders.
“Garrett, put me down,” she said in a voice breathless with laughter.
After another spin, he steadied her onto the floor, keeping his arms loosely wrapped around her. He couldn’t stop grinning. To his surprise, he very much looked forward to playing house with Natalie.
Five
Garrett was picking her up in fifteen minutes and she was still in her bra and panties. Natalie enjoyed big shindigs as much as she liked rolling around in a patch of poison ivy. She was agonizing over her attire for the dinner party—her bed was littered with half a dozen dresses. Garrett had sent them to her, and they were all beautiful, fashionable and—no doubt—expensive. She had to look the part, but he’d gone overboard.
It was their official “first date” and Natalie’s insides were tangled into knots. They had gone out to lunch almost every day to strategize about their next moves, and let the paparazzi take pictures of their “secret romance.” But this evening, she was accompanying Garrett to Michael Reynolds’s birthday get-together to convince his friends what a happy couple they were.
Five minutes late, she eeny-meeny-miny-moed a black, strapless dress from the pile and slipped into it. She wore her hair in a loose updo, away from her bare shoulders. As a finishing touch, she sprayed her favorite scent on her wrist and behind her ears. After a pause, she spritzed her cleavage.
With a last look in the mirror, Natalie rushed down the stairs and out of the building. Garrett had parked his car close to the entrance and stood outside, leaning back against the passenger-side door. He looked sinful in a tailored gray suit with a navy shirt, unbuttoned at his throat.
“Sorry I’m late.” She sounded breathless. It had to be from running down the stairs, not because of how handsome he looked.
Garrett glanced up from his phone and froze as something hot and predatory flared in his eyes. He opened his mouth then closed it to clear his throat. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you.” The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them, and blood rushed to her cheeks.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as his lips tugged to the side in a sexy grin. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she mumbled, sliding into her seat while he held the door for her.
Natalie was surprised that Michael Reynolds was Garrett’s oldest, closest friend. She knew Michael as a laid-back man with an easygoing smile, always cracking jokes. He was so different from the reserved, intense person Garrett was... It was difficult to imagine them as friends. But then, she didn’t really know her soon-to-be husband all that well.
Forty-five minutes later, Garrett pulled up to a South Pasadena estate with a huge front lawn. The circular driveway was packed with luxury vehicles. Valets in bow ties and black jackets rushed around to take the guests’ keys.
“This is his house?” Her voice rose at the end. She’d expected a casual get-together. Sure, she figured rich people would have fancy hors d’oeuvres and a Dom-Pérignon fountain or something, but not this.
“Yes,” Garrett said, then switched off the ignition and stepped out of the car.
Natalie followed suit when one of the valets opened her door. Smiling her thanks at the man, she took Garrett’s arm and whispered, “You said it was a ‘small gathering.’ This is a freaking wedding reception.”
He furrowed his brow. “He’s a publicist so he invited some influential acquaintances, but it’s hardly a huge party. There can’t be more than a hundred people here.”
“Good Lord. What have I gotten myself into?” She dug her fingers into Garrett’s forearm, which was muscular as hell. Big party. Hot man. She wanted to run off into the night.
The other guests were in their element, drinking and laughing, taking all the opulence for granted. Natalie was grateful to be wearing her new designer dress. Even so, she felt like she was on the wrong planet.
She rubbed shoulders with rich, powerful people at work and held her own, but that was her job and she knew what she was doing. This was a completely different beast. Small talk and mingling were not her forte. Garrett led her through the throng, stopping frequently to greet people he knew. As promised, she smiled and nodded in the right places, relieved she wasn’t expected to talk.
“Mike.” Garrett clapped the host on the shoulder. “Are you old enough to drink yet?”
“No, but I shaved for the first time today,” Michael Reynolds said with an easy smirk. His smile broadened when he turned to her. “I’m glad you could make it, Natalie.”
“Happy birthday, Michael.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And let me know if you need a fake ID. I know someone who knows someone.”
“I see you speak my language.” Michael chuckled. “And call me Mike.”
Natalie laughed with him and the knot in her chest loosened a notch. She didn’t know their host well, but he had an openness to him that she liked.
She glanced up at Garrett when his arm snaked around her waist and he drew her close, but he addressed his friend without meeting her eyes. “You’re a bad influence on my fiancée.”
“I think it’s the other way around.” Mike lowered his voice and winked at her. “Congratulations, by the way. As his oldest friend, I thank you in advance for putting up with the grumpy son of a bitch.”
Natalie snorted. “You’re very welcome.”
When Mike walked away to mingle with the rest of his guests, Garrett dropped his hand from her waist. She shivered at the sudden loss of heat.
“Are you cold?” A small frown marred his smooth forehead.
“No. I’m fine, but I could use a drink.”
“Bowmore?” he said, one side of his lips tipping up.
“Just a glass of champagne.” Her stomach fluttered—she was surprised he remembered her drink from Le Rêve. “I need to stay sharp for our audience.”
* * *
Garrett resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder to check on her. Natalie was a grown woman and he didn’t need to protect her from being swarmed by admirers. Besides, she was the one who had proposed they refrain from other relationships, so she wouldn’t do anything to hurt his reputation or hers.
Earlier, at her apartment, he’d caught fire at the sight of her in her little black dress. It was demure compared to the one she’d worn at Le Rêve, but it hugged her hourglass figure and highlighted the curves underneath just enough to tease his imagination.
He walked to the bar for his Scotch and grabbed a flute of champagne from a server on his way back. As he’d anticipated, Natalie was now surrounded by a group of men and he lengthened his strides to reach her.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart.” He pressed a light kiss on her lips and handed her the champagne.
“Thank you.” She leaned her head against his shoulder when he pulled her to his side, playing her part like a pro.
“Natalie was just taking us to task about USC’s new head coach. It seems neither he nor I truly understand college football,” said one of Mike’
s college friends.
“Is that so?” Garrett raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged.
“Taking you to task is a bit harsh.” She hid her grin against the rim of her champagne flute as she took a long sip. “It’s just that I have a better understanding than you guys.”
The audience winced and guffawed at her cheekiness. As Natalie continued with her lecture, all the men listened intently, as did Garrett. She was funny and down-to-earth, and her mind was quicker than lightning. Lost in her words, Garrett belatedly noticed the crowd had grown. Her champagne glass was depleted and her smile was becoming strained.
He leaned down close to her ear. “Tired?”
“And hungry.”
“All right, gentlemen. I’m whisking away my date now. I’m tired of sharing her.”
When the crowd finally dispersed, Natalie slumped against him with a groan. “I need food, champagne and somewhere to sit.”
A server walked over with a tray of bacon-wrapped shrimp and Natalie snatched a couple of them. She popped one in her mouth and mumbled around her food, “Not necessarily in that order.”
Garrett laughed and guided her toward the French doors leading out to the garden. Natalie ate every single hors d’oeuvre she met along the way and finished another glass of champagne.
“Holy cow. Is everything really, really delicious, or am I just famished? I would totally go back for that crab cake if my feet weren’t screaming at me to get my butt on a chair.”
He glanced down at her zebra-print high heels. They did amazing things for her legs but didn’t look remotely comfortable. “There’s a bench around the corner.”
“Oh, thank God.” She kicked off her shoes as soon as she plopped onto the seat.
Garrett shrugged out of his jacket and draped it around her shoulders before sitting next to her.
“Thank you,” she murmured, gazing at the garden. “It’s so beautiful out here.”
“Is it?” He and Mike had grown up tearing apart that very garden, but Garrett had never sat still and taken it all in, like they were doing now. “I guess you’re right.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
He studied her profile, her high, regal cheekbone and the graceful curve of her neck. Half of her hair had escaped the loose knot behind her head and fell down her back and shoulders. He wanted to sweep aside her hair and feel the softness of her skin, which he absolutely should not do.
“So how do you know so much about college football?” He tore his gaze away from her and stared at an old maple tree ahead of him, hard enough to make his eyes water.
“Long story.”
“We’ve got time.” He made a show of checking his watch. “I’ll give you ten minutes.”
Her laughter filled the garden, then ended on a wistful sigh. “My dad and I, we weren’t very close. The only time he didn’t mind my company was when we watched college football together. He was a huge fan. I don’t think he even noticed I was sitting there half the time.”
Garrett understood what that felt like. As soon as he finished graduate school, he’d thrown himself into his work. It was satisfying in its predictability and it created a common ground for him and his father. His dad had stepped down from the CEO position when his mom died, but returned to Hansol a few years later as an executive VP.
“I thought if I learned enough about the sport, he’d like me a little better.” Her shrug told him it hadn’t worked, but Natalie told her story without an ounce of self-pity—like she owned her past, hurt and all. His respect for her deepened. “But soon I noticed I wasn’t faking my enthusiasm anymore. I’d grown to love the sport. Who knew it’d come in handy at an intimate birthday party for a hundred people?”
“You certainly won over quite a few of them.”
“I did?” Her eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.
He huffed out a laugh. “Why did you think that crowd was hanging on to your every word?”
“Watch yourself, Garrett Song.” Natalie narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. “I know where you live.”
He snatched her hand and tugged her to her feet. “Yes, and you’ll be living there with me starting Sunday.”
“Ugh.” She hooked an index finger in each of her shoes, not bothering to put them back on. “Do you ever stop thinking about work?”
“Yes.” He cocked his head and pretended to consider her question. “But only when I’m thoroughly distracted.”
Her lashes fluttered and color saturated her cheeks, and his gut clenched with heat. She could definitely become his most dangerous distraction.
Six
Still groggy from sleep, Natalie stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a warm woolly bathrobe, yawning until her eyes watered. Garrett hadn’t brought her home until past one last night, and she hadn’t fallen asleep until close to three. She yawned again.
It took a while for her brain to piece together that someone was knocking at the door. It’s not even eight, for God’s sake. Natalie cracked open the door a sliver and peered into the hallway. All traces of the sandman’s influence evaporated at the sight of Garrett standing outside with two steaming cups and a brown paper bag.
He looked damn gorgeous and relaxed in his black T-shirt and jeans. He’d obviously had a good night’s sleep. She’d had a fitful slumber only to wake up at the crack of dawn. Not fair.
“I bring strong coffee and warm croissants.” He held up his offerings. “May I come in?”
Her stomach rumbled on cue, and Natalie opened the door wider. “My stomach welcomes you.”
As Garrett closed the door behind him, Natalie remembered she was naked underneath her robe. Stay calm. She smoothed out her face in an expression of serenity. At least she hoped she looked serene. She could be bright pink and calm, right?
She waved for him to follow and led him into her small kitchen. “You can put those over there.”
After setting his burden on her kitchen table, Garrett leaned a shoulder against the wall and focused his attention on her. His gaze drifted down her throat to the deep V of her robe, and her body warmed and softened in response. He might as well have been drawing a line of fire down her skin.
Could they really keep their hands off each other living under the same roof?
Things would get so much more complicated if she succumbed to the temptation. What if she got needy and clung to a man she could never keep? God, no. She was a grown woman and her brain dictated her actions, not the hot, aching center of her body.
“Have a seat.” Damn it. She sounded breathless. “I’ll be right back.”
Her blush deepened and she licked her lips. Crap. There was something erotic about him seeing her fresh out of the shower with her wet curls sticking to her cheeks. Natalie scurried into her bedroom and leaned against her closed door. After stuffing her screaming hormones in a deep, dark corner of her mind, she threw on some tights and a soft tunic and went out to meet her fiancé.
Garrett had pulled out two small plates from her meager collection and set out their breakfast on the table.
“Plain or chocolate?” he asked when she sat down across from him.
“I’m not a crazy woman.” She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Why would I pass up on chocolate?”
He chuckled and passed her the chocolate croissant, then took the plain one for himself.
Her croissant was still warm and melted chocolate oozed out when she took a bite. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“Mmm...”
She used her fingertip to dab the excess chocolate from the corners of her mouth and licked it off. No napkin was getting a single smudge of her chocolate. She was halfway through her breakfast before she noticed how quiet Garrett was.
When Natalie glanced at him, he was glaring at her with his croissant untouched. She squinted at him. “Are you regretting not taking the chocolate one?”
“No. I don’t like sweets,” he said in an oddly husky voice.
They enjoyed the rest of their breakfast and coffee in companionable silence. He offered to clear the table, but she waved him aside and put their plates in the sink, which was only two steps behind her.
“Okay. What brings you by so bright and early?” Natalie beckoned him to walk with her to the living room and plopped down on the couch. He followed suit, taking up her ancient sofa with his muscular thighs and broad back. The heat radiating off him made her breath hitch.
“We can’t announce our engagement without an engagement ring.” Garrett lifted Natalie’s hand from her side and retrieved a ring from his pocket. “It was my mother’s.”
“Your mother’s?” she gasped. It was absolutely stunning. The ring consisted of an antique emerald surrounded by small diamonds set in a rich gold band. “Are you sure you’re okay with me wearing it? Shouldn’t you save it for when you propose to someone you actually want to marry?”
“Unless you’ve forgotten, I asked you to marry me,” he said. “I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t want you to agree.”
“You know what I mean. I think you should save your mother’s ring for someone you love. Someone you want forever.”
“Then the ring will never see the light of day.” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “I don’t intend to marry for love and forever. Not everyone buys into that fairy tale. Certainly not me.”
A chill ran down her spine at the finality of his words. “Well, this is lovely. Thank you. I’ll return it to you when this is all over.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said tersely. “We’ll deal with it when the time comes.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. A solid wall had fallen across his expression at the mention of love and forever. Someone really must have done a number on him. “You know I’m moving in with you today. You could’ve waited until tonight.”