When Honey Got Married (6 page)

Maybe she shouldn’t have. Maybe she should have stood her ground. This could have been
her
wedding rehearsal dinner. It wasn’t fair that Honey should make her feel like some dangerous femme fatale when Eve was the one who’d made the noble sacrifice and walked away.

She became aware of an edgy little pause in the conversation, and realized the other three were all looking expectantly at her. Rainer’s gray eyes were veiled, yet somehow alert.

Fine, then. Her cue.

Breathlessly, assuming her most winsome smile, she gazed into Brent’s eyes and placed her hand in his. Let their palms commingle to generate a little harmless electricity.

“Hello.” Her racing heart made her sound quite throaty.

“Come now,” Brent said gruffly, pulling her toward him. “You can do better than that. My favorite assistant.” He bent to brush her cheek with his lips, rested his hand lightly in the small of her back.

Ohhh. Emotion seethed in Eve’s heart. She closed her eyes to savor the precious contact, but tragically, it was over far too soon. With Honey standing there, Brent hadn’t even been truly able to hold her in his arms. He probably hadn’t even had time to catch a whiff of the Sin she’d doused herself in. His favorite.

As they separated, leaving her grieving heart bereft, something dragged her glance sideways. With a jolt she collided with Rainer’s cool, level gaze.

That glint in his eyes. WTF? Who did he think he was? Her
conscience
?

She turned her back on him.

Brent and Honey started chatting to her then, for all the world like a single item, showering her with their entwined happiness. A bona fide couple, asking her about her exciting new career, Manhattan, her fantastic new life.

So kind. So heartbreaking.

No one would have guessed that little more than a year ago Brent had kissed her late at night in the piano bar of the InterContinental hotel in Dallas and ignited her girlish heart with a helpless adoration. And that he’d slid his hand up her dress and stroked the silky secret terrain of her inner thigh.

No one, except for maybe Rainer Delacroix. Oh, and Aunt Minna evidently, who had some sort of supernatural second sight when it came to sex.

Not that Eve and Brent ever
had
come to sex. Unfortunately. That was one of Eve’s worst regrets. Often fantasized, never realized.

If only they had, this unfortunate situation right here and now would be happening in reverse.

“Eve.” Smiling like a rattlesnake, Rainer turned his gleaming gaze upon her. “Why don’t we leave this happy couple to welcome their other guests. Let me find you a drink.”

In all the excitement she hadn’t noticed the queue waiting to snag the bridal couple’s attention. With no polite way of resisting, she was forced to surrender the ground to Honey.

Again.

Rainer steered her through the crowd, pausing here and there along the way. Friends stopped to shake hands and inquire about his travels. “Weren’t you in Somalia just recently, feller?” she heard one old guy say.

“Interesting place,” Rainer said. “Though I was mainly in Djibouti.”

“
Interesting,
you say?” his interrogator exclaimed. “It’s a wonder you lived to tell the tale, boy. Those goddamned pirates show no mercy.”

“Just making a buck,” Rainer said. “Like everybody else.”

Approval was showered on him from all directions, folks applauding him for having saved the lives of some sailors who’d been held for ransom, apparently.

Eve turned her head to study him. “Congratulations. I had no idea you were a hero.”

His hard eyes glinted. “I’m no hero, Eve. I just got lucky in a little negotiation.” He directed her gaze to where some of Eve’s old friends were gathering around an ornately mounted placard. “What are those folk peeking at?”

Eve looked and her heart sank like a stone. Fantastic. They were all clustering around the bridal photo collage—though this one was bigger, glossier and more professionally finished than most wedding couples’ humble little productions. People were crowding to peer closely, searching for themselves.

Not caring to appear rude and ungracious, Eve steeled herself to take a glance. Naturally there were pictures of Honey and Brent, dating back to their births. From nursery school onward a surprising number showed them together in the same shot. Bellefleur Elementary. Bellefleur High. And there was that old one of Honey’s college graduation, Brent’s arm around her.

Hadn’t the guy had any other place to be?

Sure, everyone knew they’d been sweethearts on and off forever. But these pictures didn’t show all the off-times. The times they broke up and Brent wanted to kiss someone else. And had.

As far as Eve was concerned, there was just a tad too much Honey in this collection.

Rainer peered over her shoulder, then moved around her to take a closer look. “Is this you? This kid with the braces on her teeth?”

“I guess. A long time ago. ” It was a poignant shot, considering the degree of hope and joy radiating from her eyes back then.

She avoided looking at Rainer in case he noticed the difference.

“Hey, look here. Is this really you dressed as a nun?” His amused little chuckle twisted her insides with the careless cruelty of a corkscrew.

She said coldly, “It
was
a theatrical production.”

He glanced quickly at her. “Sure. Sure it was. And you look great. Real convincing. I’m willing to bet you were—
incandescent
. So…do you do much theater in New York?”

For mercy’s
sake
. Was the guy trying to torture her with her failures?

She crushed him with a glance. “Are you kidding? They have
real
actors in New York.”

Not to mention that the guy at the Village Players had told her she wasn’t capable of projecting enough emotional complexity to play a character like Blanche DuBois. Even though he’d acknowledged that she’d “nearly achieved” the accent.

Rainer’s speculative grey gaze turned on her like a searchlight. He said softly, “You and Honey have been friends a long time.”

“Sure we were. We were in the same year.”

She barely kept her teeth unclenched. Of
course
she appeared in some of Honey’s pictures. What would he expect? She and Honey had been friendly, though they’d hardly moved in the same circles. The Fortescues had had an unfortunate number of girl babies in recent generations. They hadn’t been able to manage the resources to keep up with the Moreaus.

Or marry the Delacroix boys.

But sure, she and Honey had been on the softball team together. And here they were again. Her, Honey and Honey’s friend Pippa—who’d only just been dating
Brent
at that time…not that anyone was mentioning that little circumstance tonight.

Eve wondered how Pippa felt about the wedding. Was she even invited? Here the three of them were again, standing on the stage of the Bellefleur High assembly hall singing with all their hearts.

Brent’s girls.

Eve’s heart panged and she turned away. It was all too painful. She’d have slunk away into a corner to weep and lick her wounds, except one of her old theater pals noticed her then and shrieked, “Eve Fortescue
,
is that
you
?”

That started a landslide of cheery folks exclaiming over her, gathering to hug her and ask when she was coming back to Bellefleur for good. They were so sweet she could have cried. But she kept her head high. Laughed and joked, flirted with the boys as expected and tried not to let them see the tears pricking her eyes.

“Oh, sure. New York is just
spectacular
,” she lied through her perfectly straight teeth. “Y’all should shake off the dust of this old town and come too. Life there’s so sophisticated. It’s just a wild, wild ride.”

If only they knew the truth. If only she could come home.

Sensing Rainer’s glance, she caught him watching her, a wry half-smile on his sexy mouth. Just for a second there was something in his eyes then that made her insides flinch and curl up. Something shrewd and serious, as if she were suddenly made of crystal and he could see straight through her.

As usual, the Dixon sisters were staring from the sidelines at everything she did, muttering spiteful things to each other out of the corners of their mouths. Just like they did at church. Eve waved and blew them both a kiss.

Poor souls. With their attitude, they weren’t likely to score any of the other kind.

Chapter Two

Rainer was one of those big, quiet men who could cut a swath through a crowd without effort. At the bar he somehow managed to inspire two out-of-towners to vacate their barstools by the sheer force of his glance.

Normally Eve would have relished being in the company of a man with such commanding stage presence. As it was, she sank onto her chair, too broken to even flutter a lash.

However she tried to convince herself otherwise, it sure was looking as if Brent was Honey’s creature now. Was he truly lost to her forever? When she thought of all they’d shared… Their conversations in the office, over lunch, en route to conferences… Their deep and secret understanding, never spoken, only felt, running between them like a subterranean river…

Could all that have meant nothing?

Or—and this was what she agonized over on so many a sleepless night—had she thrown in the towel too soon? Maybe that kiss in Dallas had been real after all. At the time she’d been so destroyed at having her beautiful delusion exploded, she’d fled to New York.

The hurt had been cruel. She’d believed in Brent so absolutely, romantic old notions of courtly love must have screwed her brain. And she’d been charmed to think a man could kiss her without demanding her body. For twenty-four crazy hours after that kiss she’d floated in a beautiful dream…

Instead of tumbling her on her back and whipping down her knickers, Brent Delacroix was wooing her like a true old-fashioned gentleman. Like…Baron von Trapp. Or Ashley Wilkes.

As if anyone like that had ever really existed. She and Brent were hardly back in Bellefleur when the town was buzzing with the news. Brent had proposed to Honey Moreau.

Engaged.

The shock was a slap in the face to Eve. Why had he done it? So soon after Dallas? After their kiss?

Sometimes Eve wondered if Honey had done the proposing. Snatched him up because Eve was a threat. And if Brent, sweet, compassionate Brent, hadn’t wanted to hurt the poor little rich girl’s feelings.

Secretly, Brent might be every bit as miserable at this moment as Eve. Why else would he have invited her to his wedding?

What a fool she’d been to walk away. What a blind, lovesick fool.

She felt her throat begin to thicken. If only she could somehow detach him from Honey tonight and tell him how she felt. Give him a chance to choose. People were allowed to change their minds right up until the moment of the “I do,” weren’t they?

Rainer was scanning her face, his eyes gleaming with a warmer light than usual.

“Cheer up, now, gorgeous. You can’t win ’em all. Flirtini,” he told the barman. “Make mine bourbon.” He smiled at Eve. “You look like a vodka woman to me.”

Eve made an effort to pick herself up off the floor.

“I don’t know why you would assume that. I hardly drink at all, except at wakes. Train crashes. Tragedies.” She swiveled her chair so she could keep Brent in view, though it was hard to keep Brent and eliminate Honey at one and the same time. “Times of mourning and terrible heartbreak.”

“Must have to do with those Fifth Avenue shoes you’re wearing.”

She noticed Rainer’s gaze drift down to her Louboutins. At least it was gratifying someone had noticed them. Almost automatically she crossed her legs, but then—damn—her skirt rode up too high and she needed to uncross them. Then she dangled a shoe from her toes and let her foot swing some.

Maybe it seemed flirty, but her heart wasn’t in it. It was a mere primitive reflex. With so many of the town gossips present, it seemed a pity to disappoint her public.

And she could tell Rainer wasn’t minding one bit. He scanned her knees, a smile playing on his mouth. “You know, it was touching, that little sigh you gave.”

She glanced warily at him. “What sigh?”

“When Brent pecked your pretty cheek. What were you for hoping for? Something more significant? Maybe a kiss full on the lips? Deep and soulful? Tongues?”

Her spine stiffened in shock. This guy was up-front. Did he have any respect for a woman’s tender feelings? If one of the Dixon sisters hadn’t sidled up to the bar right then and ensconced herself a couple of spots along, Eve might have forgotten her manners and slammed him for his nerve.

As it was, she kept her words to a stern murmur. “You are
rude
, mister. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. You know. Don’t think I don’t sympathize. I know what it is to lust.” His gaze rested appreciatively on her mouth.

“Shh.” Frowning, she darted a glance along to where Jenna Mae Dixon was stretching her gawky neck, straining to listen.

Forced to lean closer to Rainer, Eve lowered her voice to a whisper. “Don’t even
say
that word. There’s never been anything
like
that between Brent and me.”

His black brows lifted. “No? Didn’t I hear him say you were his secretary?”

Beneath his black lashes his eyes were alert, amused, and unnerving. The faintest of scents teased her nostrils. A mix of woody cologne, clean clothes, and distilled essence of man. It was annoying how that trifled with her concentration. It nearly threw her off the track of her thoughts.

“What’s your point? I assure you,” she retorted, pulling herself together, “Brent is a very professional guy who would never break his code of ethics.”

“Never?” His mouth quirked in disbelief.

“
Never
.”

Unless, of course, a kiss could be counted. Tongues at midnight. Hands.

“We—e—ell. If you say so.” Rainer pressed his lips together, then gave his bourbon a meditative sip. His mouth was really very stirring and expressive, the lower lip pleasingly cushioned, suggesting an arousing resilience if a woman happened to…

She gave herself a mental shake. For Pete’s sake, she wasn’t thinking of kissing
him
. “Why look so doubtful, Rainer? Brent is a very focused person. Even if he felt strongly and irrevocably attracted to an employee, even if he longed to kiss her, yearned to caress her soft skin, itched to put his hand on her…on her…he wouldn’t
dream
of…”

“He must have the resistance of a saint.” His voice was darker than the night.

His glance met hers, sensual, bold, then slid down her throat to where her breasts were innocently longing to expose themselves. Against all the odds, her skin tingled as if singed by a naked flame.

It threw her off-balance, if the truth be known. On the one hand there was Brent across the room, holding a piece of her heart in his hands, and now here was Rainer. Powerful, masculine, and entirely confusing to the senses.

She couldn’t ever remember this degree of confusion before. Being held captive by the sheer force of a man’s physical aura. It was a whole new experience, and strangely exhilarating.

Maybe it was the drink affecting her brain. She composed her face to appear more stern. “He didn’t
need
the resistance of a saint. I don’t know what you expect from your women em—”

She’d meant to say “women
employees
,” but before she could finish he cut in smoothly, his voice as deep and dark as the devil’s. “Loyalty undiluted and passion uninhibited.” He smiled.

That smile reflected in his eyes with a message that was nothing short of bad.

“Oh, please.” She gave a mocking laugh, but a sultry shiver slithered down her spine to the backs of her knees. It was hard to deny that the guy had impact.

“I’m not criticizing you, Eve.” His wolfish gaze flicked to her throat, then drifted southward. In spite of their proud history of aloofness, against all the odds her nipples stood up and quivered shamelessly. “I totally understand. If two very attractive people are forced by circumstances to be together in close confinement, bumping into each other, hips occasionally touching,
he
accidentally brushes her breast,
she
grazes his thigh with hers, it’s only a matter of time before…”

“But nothing
did
happen.” How she wished people wouldn’t always leap to conclusions. She’d been hung for so many sheep in the past, when she’d hardly ever done more than pet the woolly heads of the little lambs who’d pursued her.

And purely out of kindness, so as not to hurt their feelings. “Well, nothing much,” she felt forced to amend.

“Ah.” Rainer’s eyes lit with a knowing amusement that riled her.

“Oh, what’s with that ‘ah’? Look—I freely admit, I admired Brent’s stance on environmental issues.”

Rainer broke into a laugh. “His
stance
?” It was amazing to see how a laugh lit up the man’s face and warmed his gray eyes. She could see why that Dixon cousin had gone so entirely overboard from the bridge.

Rainer was a stunner.

She swept her lashes down to block out some of the amazing dazzle. “For your information, Brent is very concerned about protecting the habitat of the Great Egret of Louisiana. You wouldn’t mock if you knew the research he puts in before he invests in a development. All those conferences we attended…”

Rainer’s gaze sharpened with a wicked surmise. “Conferences?”

She closed her eyes. Oh, why had she said that? Minna was right She was her own worst enemy. “Naturally, there were conferences. I was his assistant. I
had
to go with him.”

“Hmm.” He nodded slowly. “What happened at these…conferences?”

“Just the usual. Meetings. Lunches. Networking…” Evading his sharp gaze, her glance fell on his hands. Bronzed, strong, and supple, they were ruthless hands. She could imagine them handling a gun. Stroking a woman’s throat. Stroking the gun
and
the throat. The woman’s shoulders. Her breasts. The tingling silk of her inner thighs.

With his glass held casually in his long smooth fingers, he gave his bourbon a swirl. “I guess you and Brent would have spent some time together in the evenings.”

She eyed him warily. “So?”

Beneath his half-lowered lids, his eyes shone with a silvery, mesmeric quality. “Well, I suspect there’d have been at least one moment.”

She shook her head, but before she could crush his vulgar curiosity with a few pithy words, he leaned in close. The action caused the cloth of his suit pants to stretch taut across his powerful thighs. Her pulse quickened apace.

“Eve, it wouldn’t be humanly possible for any straight guy
not
to desire you.”

Her heart skipped a pounding beat. Those words struck such a chord.

Coming from a man women jumped off bridges over, they were flattering. And so what she needed to hear.

“You are a very desirable woman.” She held her breath as he moved close to murmur in her ear, so close his jaw nearly grazed her cheek. “If my cousin had you alone on all those occasions, are you honestly telling me you
never
…?”

Feeling the searing heat of his big, hard body, she closed her eyes. Surely she wasn’t feeling aroused. Not
now
. She moistened her lips.

This Rainer Delacroix was a tricky devil. And she could see he’d boxed her into a corner over Brent. It was one thing to not betray Brent, another entirely to give the impression Brent was
gay
.

“Well… Well, then… All
right
,” she conceded under the intense pressure of Rainer’s stirring lips being at close and kissable proximity. “There may have been…a moment.” His brows flew up, but before he could query further she added firmly, “Only the one. There was…a kiss, is all. Just one kiss. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“A kiss.” He sat back, nodding and casting a speculative eye over her. “What time of day did this
kiss
take place?”

She gulped down the last of her drink. “Quite late. Past midnight, I imagine.”

He lifted a quizzical brow. “
That
late? And then what?”

“How—how do you mean?” Though she had a pretty good idea where he was heading. This was the part of the story that had her confused, too.

“What did you and Brent do?”

“Well…nothing. We said good night and went to our rooms.” She saw a look of extreme skepticism cross Rainer’s face, and hastened to defend herself. “We had an early start the next morning. Brent was under pressure over a meeting he had and he didn’t want to be tired.”

He gazed at her for a long time, considering, then his sensual glance slowly traveled the length of her, taking in every curve and fold along the way. To be honest, she felt as if her dress was being erotically lasered from her body.

He said softly, “So what went wrong?”

Her nerve jumped. “With what?”

“The kiss.”

“
Nothing
. I told you. We had to get up early and…”

“Did you give it all you’ve got?”

Unusually for her, she was rocked by a surge of anger. She hissed in a breath. “It was a perfectly normal
kiss
. It may surprise you to know this about someone in your family, Rainer Delacroix, but your cousin Brent is a
nice guy
.”

His brows shot up while his eyes danced with pure infuriating amusement. Then he shook his head solemnly. “Eve. How nice is a guy who kisses a woman and leaves her hanging?”

This was so close to the painful reality of what had happened, her insides clenched with the remembered distress. Except it wasn’t exactly as Rainer was suggesting. While on the one hand, true to her usual form,
she
hadn’t experienced any Fourth of July fireworks at the time, on the other she’d fully expected Brent to be panting, groaning, and begging for a whole lot more.

Well, that was what she’d come to expect. So what had gone wrong?

“
Look…
” Somehow another flirtini had found its way into her hand. “It wasn’t that sort of a kiss.” She could feel herself blushing like a schoolkid. “I didn’t
want
… There was no
need
for… Haven’t you ever kissed a woman as a sign of your
esteem
? Out of respect for your—your shared
ideals
?”

Rainer made a careless gesture. “I have to be honest, Eve. Any time I kiss a woman, whether it’s for esteem, ideals, or whatever, there
is
a need, and she
does
want.” His sexy mouth edged into a smile. “She surely does.”