The Irresistible Curves Collection

by Christa Wick

  “You think?” he asked, studying me closely. “You think our wedding will help the woman realize she has feelings for me, almost as strong as the ones I have for her?”

  Leaning back against the cushion, I closed my eyes. “Can’t answer that. But I do think you should tell her. Soon.”

  “I will, when she's ready to hear it and not walk out of my life forever.”

  His hand brushed my face, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear before sliding behind me. His thumb played along the small of my back, making me melt deeper into the cushion. “Right now she’s got her walls up.”

  I nodded. As different as I might be from this mystery woman in the flesh, I had built a few walls myself. First with my parents, then with men after a few lovers had used me as their safety rebound—the fat chick they thought they could walk all over.

  My head started to slide toward his chest. I tried to lift it but my eyes were closing, my brain shutting down. Feeling an arm along the back of my knees and a feeling of weightlessness, I clutched Blake’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  “As much as I’d rather do something else with you, I’m putting you to bed, P.J.” He lifted me up fully, rolling my body against his broad chest. “You're exhausted.”

  I couldn't argue with that. Learning everything I did today had put my head and heart through the wringer.

  I was asleep before we reached the bedroom.

  TWELVE

  - Pippa -

  There was no rose when I woke the next morning. No Blake, either.

  And somehow, I'd slept too late again—this time without a mind-blowing orgasm from the night before as a really good excuse. After a quick shower, I was searching for my bag in the living room when Abigail popped around a corner and told me she was making me an omelet.

  “I’m so sorry, but I really have to run—”

  She tut-tutted to stop my objections. “Mr. Cross said to let you sleep until you woke naturally and make sure you ate something before you left. I have it all mixed—it won't take more than five minutes to cook and another five to eat.”

  I opened my mouth, ready to argue, when my stomach gurgled. “I guess I am a little hungry. I didn’t get to eat more than a few bites of sushi last night.”

  “I bet,” she gave me a knowing smile.

  Goodness, it was clear Abigail thought the reason I was waking up late and eating only part of my dinner was because Blake was having his wicked way with me at night.

  I needed to nip that one in the bud. “Thank you for letting me sleep in, but I’m going to have to start waking up earlier from now on. As great as it’s been to catch up on my rest, everything is going to be crazy busy at work for the next few months so I don’t think I’ll be having any more late mornings for a while.”

  There. That planted the seed as to why I’d be waking up early—and not exhausted from a long night of sex—every morning for however long my marriage to Blake lasted.

  “No life of leisure for you after the wedding, eh?” She poured the blended eggs onto a flat skillet where they sizzled and popped.

  “Nope.” I peeled a banana while I watched her cook. Even if this were a real marriage, I couldn’t ever see myself not working.

  “Yes, Mr. Cross said you’re independent, that you have a hard time letting people take care of you.”

  Blake definitely had me pegged on that point. Depending on someone else was the surest path to disappointment. I'd learned that lesson young, courtesy of my parents.

  Gorman's most recent business betrayal had only reinforced my opinion on placing too much trust in others.

  Not wanting to dwell on the negatives in my life so early in the morning, I steered the conversation in a new direction. “You're very fond of Blake, aren't you?”

  “He's practically a fourth son.” Abigail folded the omelet onto a plate and slid it along the counter to me. “Knowing he found you gives me a mother’s joy unlike any other.”

  Her eyes grew misty. “You know, I caught him in the hall this morning while you were sleeping. He was leaving the bedroom and he just had to stop and stare at you.” She sniffled. “It was a sweet moment I never thought my boy would get to have until you came along.”

  I dipped my head, feeling my own eyes begin to moisten. Unable to say anything that wouldn’t completely destroy the mother’s happiness I could see shining out of Abigail like rays of sunlight, I quickly ate my omelet in silence.

  Abigail took the dish away before I could take it to the sink and wash it.

  “You go ahead. I texted the driver that you would be along in a few minutes.”

  “You're a jewel,” I replied, meaning it in a much bigger context. If I’d had a mother even a fraction as loving as her, I had no doubt my heart wouldn’t be half as jaded or guarded.

  Leaning across the counter, I gave her a quick peck on the cheek before I realized what I was doing.

  I spent the car ride afterward hitting my memory banks for a similar moment in my past—of my kissing my own mother on the cheek. And her smiling about it.

  None came to mind.

  Strangely, the stark realization of just how sad my relationship with my mother had truly been didn’t result in a pity party. Rather, it bolstered me as I threw myself into work for the rest of the day, getting everything I needed for my upcoming meeting with Blake’s tax specialists and criminal attorneys.

  While I’d been nervous on how our nights together in his penthouse would go, I found it actually pretty easy to live with the man. Provided he kept his hands to himself, of course. And though I was admittedly disappointed not to have him ravishing me nightly, it made it easier for me to get used to our living situation.

  Blake, being Blake, went out of his way to make sure I was comfortable. Earlier in the week, instead of seducing me to the brink of my sanity as I’d half expected, instead, he’d helped me come up with new plans and better solutions for the huge mess Gorman had created for my company. And every morning, he’d call simply to check how my day was going, and to remind me that I was a badass boss, and that he’d be on the sidelines supporting me through this, in whatever capacity I needed him.

  Part of what I told him I needed was to handle the next meeting that would determine my fate with the IRS on my own. Blake wasn’t happy about it, but he agreed to sit it out.

  Of course, when the big meeting day with Blake’s tax specialists and criminal attorneys arrived, Blake called before I stepped foot in the room, just to say that he was there for me a hundred percent, no matter what happened.

  It ended up being a fantastically satisfying meeting.

  The IRS agent who’d first sprung all this on me was in attendance, as was the huge legal and tax specialist team Blake had assembled for me.

  They were absolutely magnificent.

  After they were through with the guy, the same vicious little man who I’d once had terrifying nightmares about for weeks on end got his ass handed to him.

  And I told Blake as much when I called him to excitedly recount the entire meeting the minute it was over.

  “Wish I’d been there to see that,” he said in the phone, smiling voice wrapping around me in warmth.

  “I do, too,” I said honestly. “Next time I almost get thrown in jail and have a meeting that could potentially make it all go away, I’ll reserve the seat next to me for you.”

  He chuckled and for a minute there, we were back to being the friends we’d been this past year.

  By the time I hung up the phone, I felt like I could actually breathe again for the first time in a long while.

  The back taxes, I was always going to pay, but the penalties and legal ramifications were what had been weighing on me. Now that those were no longer threats being held over my head, I felt a hundred pounds lighter as I went in to work for the day, eager to share the news of this giant reprieve with Kevin.

  Running into Anna Burke in the lobby of my office building shattered my elation in one swift second.

&
nbsp; “Hello, Pippa. Remember me?”

  I tried to smile politely in response but couldn't bring myself to do it. Even before she left Blake's company, I'd always felt like I had cockroaches crawling over me when Anna was present.

  And today, she had a copy of the Post folded to page six in her hand…with a picture of Blake and me that I hadn’t seen before now.

  I kept my eyes trained on her face, and not the paper. “Sure, you used to work at Cross. Are you interviewing with one of the companies in this building?”

  Now I could smile politely.

  Her posture stiffened and the hand clutching the paper started to ball into a fist. “No! I came here to warn you about Blake Cross.” She unfolded the Post and showed me a stapled set of papers that bore the standard formatting of legal documents. “Not sure if he told you, but I’m suing him. And that’s the only reason why he's seducing you. To get at me and divert the public's attention from the lawsuit.” She smiled again, trying damn hard to soften her expression's predatory curve.

  All she succeeded in doing was making herself look a little deranged.

  Peering into her pale blue gaze, I realized for the first time she wore tinted contacts. I returned her smile, wondering if anything about Anna was real.

  “Is that what he’s doing?" I asked. "Is this you speaking from experience? Did Blake seduce you so he could get something out of you, too?”

  The papers she held snapped half an inch from my face. Seeing it coming, I didn't flinch.

  Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at me. “Unlike you, I can get any man I want. Don't be a fat little fool about this. I'm trying to be your friend.”

  I turned and headed toward the bank of elevators. “Well thank you, friend. But I am speaking from experience—being seduced by Blake is…quite something.”

  Growling, she scrambled after me and snagged my sleeve. “You're just a pawn in this, he'll drop you the second the suit is over or his little ploy doesn't work.”

  Grabbing her wrist, I squeezed at its pressure points until she had to let go of the fabric. “Come near me again and I’ll get a restraining order against you. I'm no one's pawn. Don’t make the giant mistake of underestimating me, Anna.”

  Her gaze went as flat as any killer’s. Her whole face narrowed as her nostrils flared.

  “Fine, so you’re not his pawn; you're just his paid whore," she spat back at me hysterically, loud enough that security started making their way over to her.

  Hearing the elevator door chime, I calmly stepped inside, my gaze meeting hers one last time in the mirrored panels before the security guards grabbed both her skinny elbows, seconds before the doors slid shut.

  Alone, I fell back against the side wall, my entire body shaking.

  The woman might be deranged, but she wasn’t wrong. I was Blake’s paid whore. Or on a quick and straight path in that direction, at least.

  As soon as the elevator doors dinged and slid open, I immediately pressed the button to close it before anyone could get in.

  I jabbed the button to return to the lobby and texted Blake’s driver to double back and take me to Blake's office instead.

  I still had no idea when the actual wedding would occur. I only knew that the contract called for a “valid” marriage. I didn't need it spelled out in black and white, in all caps bolded, to understand the term meant consummation would be required.

  Then I really would be his paid whore.

  THIRTEEN

  - Pippa -

  "Tell me again from the beginning.” Blake had me backed up against his office wall, his hands on my shoulders to stop my pacing. “Every detail. Don't leave anything out.”

  I'd already been through it twice with him and if possible, he sounded even more murderous now than he had a few minutes ago.

  “One more time, P.J. You were holding back, I can see it on your face.”

  Most everything had come spilling out the second I had shut his office door, my guts all but strewn across the fancy Oriental rug adorning his floor as I’d recounted everything Anna had said to me. I lifted my shoulders—or tried to, at least—but he was gripping me so tightly, as if he had no intention of ever letting me go. “The only part I left out was her screeching at me, loud enough for everyone in the lobby to hear, that I was your paid whore.”

  Blake unleashed a vicious string of obscenities.

  “Did you make that face when she said it?” he asked, his expression equal parts worried and homicidal.

  “What face? I'm not making any face.”

  “Yes, you are. You look like you believe every last nasty thing that bitc—” He cut himself short with a growl. “That woman said.”

  His fingers brushed against my cheek, but I looked away. “Like I care what Anna Burke thinks.”

  “P.J., your face communicates a lot more than you think.” Gripping my chin with his thumb and index finger, he forced me to look at him. “It was one of the things I first noticed about you.” Cupping my face with both hands, he stroked his thumbs along my cheekbones. “You're like a fine porcelain doll with a built-in emoticon button.”

  Closing my eyes, I bit at the inside of my lip. Feeling my hands start to tremble, I pressed both palms against my stomach as if I could find the magical off-switch for that emoticon button he’d referenced.

  I couldn't have him know what was running through my head now or ever again. It would be too embarrassing if he realized how I really felt about him.

  “How long do your lawyers think this lawsuit could drag on?” I whispered the question, not trusting myself to control my pitch if I spoke any louder. “Are we talking months or years?” The latter wasn’t unheard of when companies the size of Blake’s were involved.

  “Can’t say for sure. All I do know is that she’s getting ready to attack so she can cast a shadow over our wedding. But don’t worry, love, I’ve already decided to move up the date of the ceremony.”

  My eyes flew open. “What? To when?”

  “This weekend. The announcement will run in tomorrow's Post.”

  This weekend! That was only four days away. I shook my head at him. “That's too soon. I haven't even had a chance to—”

  Blake shook his head resolutely. “You won’t have to do a thing; I’m taking care of every last detail. I have people coordinating everything here in town and at our ceremony location as we speak.”

  I blinked in surprise. “Wait, where exactly are we getting married?”

  “The Cayman Islands. I chartered planes to accommodate all the guests, and I’ve already checked in with all your friends to make sure their passports are up to date.” His hands molded around my face, his fingers threading through my hair as he massaged the side of my head. “Only two of them didn’t have one and it’s been expedited. I don’t expect any problems at all in them being able to attend.”

  As much as I tried to stop it, I started feeling faint. Having a quickie secret ceremony was one thing, but a destination wedding with the only family I still had left in my life? “Please, Blake. This isn't...I mean, my friends—”

  “Are exactly who you’d invite to your wedding,” he said, cutting me off.

  “Isn’t this taking things a little too far?”

  He studied me for a second, then sighed. “What do you want to hear, Pippa? That maybe Anna will read the announcement and settle cheap before you have to marry me. Would that make you happy?”

  The way my chest immediately tightened, I knew it would make me miserable. I'd be out of Blake's life that much faster. But at least I could start getting over him. Plus, it would lessen the amount of time my ass and thighs had to spend in the media spotlight.

  My lips pressed tightly together to hide their quiver, I gave him a brief, barely there nod.

  His hands abruptly pulled back. Before I could say a word, he was halfway to his desk, his gaze intent on its surface. “Well, I'll do my best to make you happy, love. If a settlement is what you want, a settlement, I’ll get for you.”r />
  “Blake, I don’t want you to settle…the lawsuit.” To cover up my pause, which changed the entire meaning of my statement, I told him truthfully, “While I have no clue what the lawsuit is about, I’m positive you’re not at fault.”

  He smiled briefly then. “So you finally believe I haven’t done anything wrong?”

  I think I’d always believed that. “You’re a good man, Blake. In a moral battle between you and Anna, I’d put my money on you any day.”

  I turned to make my way over to the door. “I-I should go. I need to get back to work. I just wanted to let you know what happened today before you heard it from some ‘anonymous source’ later today.”

  “Hang on. I’ll walk you out.” His hand against the curve of my back, he steered me toward his private elevator.

  I tried to school my features into those of a woman just a few days away from marrying the man she loved. I failed. Not at the loving him part. At the pretend part.

  How messed up was this situation?

  His smile grew tight and chilly. “I appreciate the effort you’re putting into making everyone believe the charade, P.J. But something tells me you’re the one who needs convincing here.”

  Once we were inside, he pushed me into the corner of the elevator, his hands roaming over my hips as he cinched my waist tight against his groin.

  “Blake...” I tried to put some distance between us. I would melt in an instant if he touched me now. It felt like an eternity since he’d made me come for him last.

  Curtailing my attempts to escape any intimacy, he whispered a warning into my ear. “Security camera’s on us. And the guard manning it whines a little too loudly about his pay. As I said from the beginning, public and private, love.”

  “I can’t right now. Don’t ask me to pretend.” That was a bit of a stretch. I didn't need to pretend. My body was positively vibrating with its need for him.