B00Z637D2Y (R) (18 page)

And before she could utter another word, he covered her mouth with his. After a moment, she relaxed and kissed him back, gently scraping her nails across his scalp, causing chills to race up and down his spine. Clancy stepped across his lap to the outside, allowing him to close the space between them, and the feel of her body against his made everything else going on minute and unimportant. He rolled her on top of him and fisted his hands in her hair, pulling her down to him. Spending time with this woman did something for him that work never had. She filled an emptiness he’d not known existed. And unlike any other woman he’d been with, the more he knew about her, the more he liked her, and wanted her—and needed her. He could have kissed her forever, and he might have, had his alarm on his phone not gone off.

Shit, shit, shit.
“We need to hurry or we’re going to be late to the rehearsal dinner.”

“Oh, no.” She pulled out her phone from her pocket as she rolled off of him and frowned. “I need to shower and do my hair. There’s no way we’ll be on time.”

This was his fault, but there was no chance in hell he would let them be late. Not when everyone expected it of her. “You showered before we left this morning. Throw on that red dress, put on some lipstick, and call it done.”

She stood. “Back to ordering me around, huh?”

He pointed to the sand just off the blanket and she stepped off as indicated. “Damn right.”

“He’s so bossy, Clancy.”

He shook the blanket, folded it, and placed it in the bag. “It’s one of the things you like about me.” He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him, skimming her neck with his lips, then trailing his hands lower. “You have the greatest ass…now get it moving so we’re on time for this thing.” He gave her a playful pop and she giggled, picking up Clancy’s leash and running for the trail from the beach.

Chapter Fifteen

Mia was relieved they’d made it to the restaurant on time, but her heart was still racing from the rush.

“We’re not doing the boy/girl/boy/girl seating thing,” Sue said after Michael had been introduced to Mark’s parents and her mom. “Just sit anywhere.”

Mark and his dad were to her left, with the two mothers chatting happily in the next two chairs, which left the seat next to Sue open. Before she or the waiter hovering nearby could do it, Michael pulled out Mia’s chair.

“Kelli called,” Sue said. “She and Jason are running late.”

Michael pushed her chair in and sat to her right and for a fleeting moment, his mouth turned up in what she could swear was a smirk.

“But you’re on time,” her friend said with a grin. “I think Michael was right.”

“About?”

“You’re never late when something matters to you.”

Or when Michael wouldn’t let her be late. When they got back to their room after the beach, he had brought their suitcases up and had her pull her things out so quickly, she’d failed to get everything she’d needed. By the time she’d figured out she’d forgotten underwear, he’d already taken the luggage back downstairs, including the clothes she’d just taken off.

She smoothed her dress over her thighs, hyperaware she had nothing underneath. Michael placed his hand over hers, and the awareness became even more acute as she imagined the same warm hand all over her body.

Moving nothing but his fingers under the tablecloth, he maneuvered the hem of her dress higher so that his skin skimmed over the flesh of her knee. Everything in her tightened and she held her breath. He was only barely touching her knee, but her body reacted to the innocuous act as if he were touching her everywhere all at once.

When she flitted her attention to Sue, she found her whispering in Mark’s ear, oblivious to anything but her future husband.

“So, when is the happy day, Mia?” Sue’s mother asked. “I’m told you and Michael are engaged.”

Shit. Now what?

Fingers still gently circling her knee, Michael answered mildly, “We haven’t set a date.”

“Oh.”

“Hey!” Jason said from the door to the room. “We made it!”

Michael’s fingers stilled on her knee.

Jason pulled Kelli from behind him and her face flushed red as he addressed the parents. “This is Kel.”

“Sorry we’re late,” she said, nervously tucking her red hair behind an ear.

“We’ll blame the growler you ordered when we left the pub,” Mark said in a good-natured tone. “Sit down, dude, before you fall down. He indicated the chair next to Sue’s mom.

“Ah, no. I want to sit next to my good friend, Mike. You guys met Michael Anderson yet? He’s a big deal.”

The fingers on her knee tightened and she placed her hand over his.

Poor Kelli. She knew exactly how she felt. Humiliated. Angry. Sad. Jason didn’t drink often, but it wasn’t pretty when he did.

When Jason took the chair next to Michael, Sue popped up. “I think I’ll catch up with my mom. Why don’t you sit here, next to Mia, Kelli?”

Mark shot Jason a dark look, but his friend missed it completely.

Sue’s mother cleared her throat. “Well, we were just talking about Mia and Michael’s wedding plans.”

No. No they weren’t.
“Or lack thereof,” Mia said without thinking, straightening her silverware.

The table fell completely silent and Michael’s grip on her knee loosened. “No date yet. I’m just glad she said yes.” His fingers resumed their gentle, reassuring circles and she let out a grateful breath of air.

Jason pointed to her left hand. “No ring yet, either, huh?”

“Well, I…we—” How in the world could she cover for this oversight?

“It’s being designed right now. As you know, I deal in antiquities and have access to some of the greatest craftsmen in the world. Mia’s an artist, so when I asked her to marry me, I didn’t present just any ring. I wanted her input.” He lifted his hand from her leg and took her hand. “Tell them about the ring, Mia.”

Oh, crap.
Why didn’t he just make up something? He knew all about this kind of thing and she didn’t have a clue. He squeezed her hand and she looked in his deep blue eyes that no longer appeared crisp, like the ocean, as they had earlier. They were richer, like her favorite indigo pigment in her paint box, imbued with amber flecks. “Blue,” she said. “And gold.”

“Mia’s an artist?” Jason interrupted.

“She is. Quite accomplished, too. You haven’t seen her paintings?”

A strange tingle traversed her spine. No, he hadn’t. She’d never let him see them. Air whooshed out of her lungs. Never once had she protected her art from Michael, yet she’d hidden it from Jason. Michael’s words from their carriage ride in the park were true, but she’d never really seen it until now.
“Just like me, you only let people see what you want them to see. You manipulate your image every bit as much as I do.”

“Excuse me, please,” Mia said, pushing to her feet. Michael stood immediately to pull her chair back. Leaving the table like this was awkward, but not nearly as awkward as losing her shit in front of them. Here she’d been all self-righteous about her own openness and condemning of Michael being so controlled and guarded, when she was exactly the same. Hell, even the Super had seen it.
“You two are very much alike,”
he’d said.

Instead of retreating to the ladies room, where she was sure Sue would follow, she stepped out on the front porch of the restaurant. The cool crisp air in her lungs made the near panic subside. The unreliability and lateness? She’d done it on purpose. She’d been pushing people away. But not Michael. He’d seen right through it, straight into her, as if she were made of clear glass.
“I have a theory about that,”
he’d said. Scatterbrained and forgetful at times because she was easily distracted was far different than unreliable, which was the image she’d created. You couldn’t let people down if they didn’t rely on you.

“Figured it out, did you?” he handed her a shot glass. “Introspection and revelation can be inconveniently timed.”

She sniffed the straw-colored liquid. “Tequila.”

“Jason says it does good things for you.”

She smiled at his reference to the conversation in his apartment and leaned on the porch rail. “And you responded by saying that
you
do good things for me.”

“I’d like to.”

Whoa.
No holding back. It was almost surreal to be here with this man only her wildest fantasies could conjure. A man so deep, she hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface. “What are we doing?”

“Taking off our masks.”

She nodded and downed the shot in one gulp.

He took the glass. “No more tequila. I want you completely unaltered.” He kissed her gently. “No pretense, no excuses, no obstacles. Agreed?”

“Yes,” her voice was breathier than intended and her body hummed with energy as he took her in from head to toe.

“You look beautiful,” he said, leaning against the support beam of the porch, looking all but edible in his suit and a tie with tiny red specks that matched her dress. He’d planned that out, not doubt. Always the planner.

“It’s all about the dress,” she said.

He caught her elbow and turned her to face him. “It’s about the woman in the dress. The woman I want out of the dress. The woman who is beautiful no matter what she wears,” he added, releasing her arm. “Stop selling yourself short. No pretense. No masks, remember?”

The specks on his tie blurred and she blinked rapidly until her vision cleared. “Yes.” Up this close, she realized the red on the tie wasn’t specks, but the fins on tiny, geometric, interlocking fish—like an Escher painting. Complex and organized, just like the man. Something completely different when observed from a distance than when up close.

He put his mouth to her ear. “Let me make love to you tonight. Let me do all the things I’ve been dreaming about since I met you.”

“I…” Thank goodness for the railing or she’d have melted in a puddle.

He put his finger to her lips. “Don’t answer yet.” She held onto the railing for dear life as he drew her earlobe between his teeth, then ran his tongue where his teeth had been. “Just think about it. We should get back before they serve dinner.”

To heck with dinner. Between the cool air blowing up her skirt and his hot breath in her ear, she was ready to skip dinner all together.

“Hi, guys. Everything okay?”

Or not.

“Hey, Sue. Yeah. We were just coming in. Sorry I skipped out.”

Sue wrapped her arm around Mia’s shoulders and led her toward the door. “No problem. They’re serving the food right now and I didn’t want yours to get cold.”

…

Dinner was uneventful. While they’d been on the porch, someone must have read Jason the riot act, because he switched from beer to coffee and stayed quiet for the most part. It didn’t stop him from shooting resentful glares at Mia occasionally, which caused Michael to utilize considerable restraint to not throw him out. Interspersed with the glares were blatant suck-up comments to Michael, who had finally gotten him to stop calling him Mike.

He hated people like Jason, who saw people as no more than stepping-stones. He dealt with them all the time. He still couldn’t figure the guy out, though. He came from money probably, but his job didn’t reflect good family connections. And why had he not wanted Mia to come to the wedding? As he watched the interplay among friends, he got no closer to an answer.

When things were dwindling down, and dessert and champagne had been served, Mark stood.

“I’m told that I’m supposed to give a thank you speech of some kind, but we’re all friends here, so I’ll just keep it simple. I love this woman. I value her friendship, and everyone else’s at the table…well, maybe not yours, Jason.”

Everyone laughed, but Michael wondered how much truth was behind the words. Loyalty and friendship could exist separately. Though, after getting to know Mia, he was not so sure about the independence of love from friendship.

“Anyway, thank you all for being a part of our wedding.” He held his glass up and was joined by everyone around the table.

“I want to dance!” Sue said. “Who’s coming to the bar with me?”

“I will,” Kelli said, not even glancing at Jason.

“I know where my bread’s buttered,” Mark said with a wink, finishing off his champagne and taking Sue’s hand.

“Are you going, Michael?” Jason asked as the parents followed the bride and groom out. “Because if not, I’d like to talk about some possible business ideas I have.”

It would be a cold day in Hell.
Not even looking at him, Michael took Mia’s hand, but remained seated. “I’m only here for pleasure, Jason. No business of any kind.”

Mia flushed and he leaned closer, gratified by the effect he had on her. “Let’s go dance, Mia mine,” he whispered in her ear.

She met his eyes and it almost took his breath away. Her pupils were wide, and he could see the flame from the candle from the center of the table dancing in them. “Yes.”

Her tone was so intense, he remained still.

“My answer to your question on the porch is, yes.”

He stood and pulled out her chair, carefully schooling his facial expression, but unable to control the instant erection she’d brought on with one simple word.

…

When they got to the bar, the band was playing a slow song, and Michael wrapped her in his arms before they even made it to the dance floor.

“Do you want me to guess?” he said in her ear, swaying in time to the sensual, jazzy music.

“Are we talking underwear?”

“Or lack thereof.”

Oh, God. Could he tell by looking? He must have felt her tense because he chuckled. “Calm down. I only know because I saw your clothes laid out. Nobody else knows.”

Still swaying, he ran his hand from her shoulder blades to her waist and back up again and she relaxed against him.

“I like knowing things about you nobody else does. The color of your underwear, the location of that freckle on your spine, the way you bite the tip of your tongue when you think hard.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

She laid her head against his shoulder. “Okay, maybe I do.”