by Nikki Logan
‘No.’ Okay, yes … but no. ‘There was more there. Complete connection. They got engaged just weeks later. They knew they’d found it.’ Because if they hadn’t, then what made her think she ever would?
Flynn snorted and turned for his cottage. The lights glowed a welcome and a spiral of smoke curled from the chimney. Pop’s forethought: good man. ‘Two narcissists managed to find each other through the crowd. Alert the media!’
She shot off after him. ‘Don’t change the subject.’
‘The subject? Of whether or not true love exists? Hell of a conversation to be having on our wedding night.’
‘You know, you and your brother might have been more alike than I realised.’
He looked at her sideways.
‘You have the same basic traits. Solid. Consistent. I may not always like the things you do or say but you’re as dependable as the earth we’re walking on.’
He skipped over her not liking things he did and zeroed straight in on him having the same basic traits as the best man she ever knew. Selective hearing was a wonderful thing. He swung around as they reached the cottage door to look down on her.
Really look.
This entire stubborn discussion reminded him so much of his youth. ‘You know, you might be onto something …’
She frowned up at him. ‘Onto what?’
‘The whole Drew thing …’ The creases between her eyes only deepened. ‘Well, the thing with Drew and you, really …’
Her eyes fell shut and he could swear he could hear her counting to ten. ‘There was no thing with Drew and me—’
‘The thing with you and me and Drew, then.’
That got her attention.
‘I’ve been racking my brain as to why you and I set off so many sparks.’
Her eyes flared. ‘Apart from the obvious, you mean?’
He blinked at her.
‘The way you’ve had your lawyers drag every single part of my personal life across their desk and sift through it looking for usable dirt. The fact we’re neck-deep in a custody battle.’
He waved a hand. ‘No, not that.’
‘Then what?’
‘I thought it was because you were like Gwen.’
‘What was?’
He stepped closer on the crowded top step. ‘The reason you get so firmly under my skin.’
Her tiny gasp was partly disguised by the wind buffeting overhead. But her lips parted and her pupils slowly grew as she twigged what he was saying. ‘I was ready for you to be stylish and socially flawless and all about outward appearances,’ he said. ‘But you’re not like that at all. You’re clumsy and messy and—’
The speculation in her eyes drained. ‘I think I liked you better when you were all moody and silent …’
He held a hand up to continue. ‘And you’re down-to-earth and warm and … natural.’ The hand reached out and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear. ‘And so completely my type.’
Her breath froze. ‘Are you drunk, Flynn?’ she managed to squeeze out.
He chuckled, deep and low. ‘No. But I haven’t been able to work out—for the life of me—why you bother me so much. What it is about you. Why I didn’t just jump your bones the second week here. But I got it just now.’
The pounding in her chest increased. ‘And?’
‘The way you’re fighting so fiercely for custody of the babies, the way you won’t accept anything but victory. The way you’re so quick with a witty comeback and so damned fast on the uptake with new things. The way you’ve colonised my family and become like the sun around which they all revolve. The way you push every single one of my buttons. Repeatedly.’
She held her breath, staring at him wide-eyed.
‘You’re not Gwen,’ he rounded off. ‘You’re Drew.’
His triumphant declaration almost echoed in the loaded silence that followed.
‘Are you saying I’m the female equivalent of your brother?’ Bel finally got out.
‘Just like him. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner.’
She stared at him, her voice cooling. ‘Drew the “uncompromising”, “narcissistic”, pedant?’
He stumbled then. ‘Okay … no … not like him in all things … Obviously.’
She reached for the door handle, her face hard. ‘Goodnight, Flynn.’
He quickly slipped his hand over the top of hers to still it. It took him straight back to that open cave mouth. ‘Bel … I just wanted to—’
She rounded back on him. ‘To what, Flynn? Get back at me? Hurt me?’
What the …? ‘Hurt you? You worshipped the man.’
‘But you hated him.’
He winced and then twisted his body uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t hate him, Bel. We were brothers. But he … we had issues.’
‘That’s what you wanted to tell me? That I give you issues?’
‘Woman—’ his voice thickened ‘—you have no idea.’
‘Goodnight, Flynn.’
‘Bel, wait …’ He snaked strong fingers around her wrist and halted her progress as the door swung open.
She lifted her chin when he didn’t continue. ‘So was that it? I remind you of Drew. Mystery solved. Offence identified. Burden offloaded?’
‘I didn’t tell you to offload a burden.’
She brought her eyes back around to his. ‘Then why did you tell me?’
He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Second time lucky … ‘Because I wanted to explain … apologise, really … for being reactive with you sometimes.’
‘Sometimes?’
The glint of challenge in her eyes got his blood racing. ‘Now you are being a pedant.’
She stared at him. Then she pushed open the door to the house. Then she stopped. ‘Oh, my …’
It looked as if Pop hadn’t come down alone. In addition to a toasty blaze in the fireplace, dozens of flickering half-spent candles littered the living area, throwing the whole place into a soft glow. It was beautiful. And so horribly out of phase with the conversation they were having.
Bel swung back around to him and lifted her chin, her blue eyes sparking more than the fireplace. ‘Fine. Apology accepted, if that’s what it was. I have no problem being the best parts of your brother.’
His thumb traced strokes on her bare wrist where he still restrained her. He knew she’d said it to be provocative but something about the way the dozens of flickering lights played on her skin and hair robbed him of interest in carrying on that conversation. He wasn’t in the mood to fight any more. ‘So I’m not entirely Hades, then?’
She flicked her eyes up from next to him. ‘I never thought you were.’
He turned her towards him and peeled his coat from her shoulders. ‘You stood before me today like you were being sacrificed to him.’
‘Today was … challenging.’ She immediately crossed to the fire and warmed herself, keeping her eyes shy of his.
‘You’ve had plenty of notice.’
She looked at him strangely. ‘Time doesn’t make it any easier. Didn’t the irony of it strike you?’
‘Irony?’ Like the fact they’d entered their marital home talking about his brother?
‘Standing in that exquisite place doing something so …’
‘Non-exquisite?’ Like marrying him …
‘… So hollow.’
‘That’s what was bothering you? That it was fake?’
‘No one wants their wedding day to be empty. Even you. You can’t tell me you didn’t think at all about what it might be like to stand there with someone who actually loved you. Who you loved. The full soft focus dream.’
The reminder that she was doing it under sufferance didn’t sit well with him. Not when he knew full well he’d originally just wanted it over with as he’d stood facing the terrifying drop to the pristine lake below, waiting for the women to arrive. But then he’d turned and seen this glowing, radiant vision walking towards him—scared out of her wits but so ethereal and brave—and he’d
stopped thinking about anything but getting his ring on her finger.
Making her his.
Crazy.
So, maybe he did buy into the dream just a little bit. Just like he was buying into this wedding night. The slow dancing. The close contact. Every opportunity to touch her. The firelight arcing off her hair right now.
‘“The soft focus dream.” Is that what the kiss was about?’ he asked.
Her eyes flew to his. ‘The kiss was necessary. You said so yourself.’
He leaned on the kitchen island and crossed his arms across his broad chest and asked her what he’d really wanted to know all evening. What he’d been thinking about since the cave. ‘The first kiss was necessary for show. What was the second one about?’
Her eyes flew to his and her mouth parted on a silent gasp. It reminded him immediately of the way her lips had felt under his. How his tongue had slipped past her defences into the confused heat of her mouth and gone to town. How she’d kissed him back.
‘I …’ Heat flared in her cheeks bringing that hayloft tumbling back to mind. What he wouldn’t give to have a big pile of fresh straw somewhere handy right now. To lay her back in it. To get straw in places it wasn’t meant to be. He crossed his ankles to compress the sudden tingling at the other end of his legs. But he didn’t rescue her. What she said next would be very telling.
‘You wanted it to be convincing …’ she stammered.
She looked pained but he wasn’t in the mood for politely letting it go. Not if they were going to be sharing a roof. There was too much at stake. One of them had to talk about the giant thing simmering between them that they’d both been politely ignoring. ‘We made Nan blush. That’s unprecedented. Why did you really do it?’
She twisted and untwisted the fabric of her dress in her hands like she had back in that London hospital. He was sure she didn’t notice, but he noticed because every twist momentarily flashed a hint more of long leg. He fought the surge of desire and concentrated on backing her into the emotional corner he knew would reveal the truth. Whatever it might be.
He took a breath and a risk. ‘You wanted to kiss me.’
Her eyes flared. ‘Get over yourself, Flynn. I was curious …’
‘Curious?’
Her chin lifted defiantly. ‘You’ve been going to town with the touching … all this time. I just wanted to see if the main attraction was worth the hype of the previews.’
Bull. She wanted to kiss him. Inexplicable warmth surged through him. He pushed slowly away from the island bench. She was such a terrible liar now he knew what to look for. The parted lips, the darting glance, the wringing hands …
‘So how did I do?’
Her wild eyes swung back to him. ‘It was … fine.’
‘Fine?’
‘Acceptable.’
Ouch. Pride dragged out his ego to defend its honour. ‘You know that it wasn’t even close to being the main attraction. Most people would consider kissing the preview …’
He certainly did, the way she’d opened up to his thrusting tongue … It put images in his head he’d had no business thinking in the presence of his grandparents. Or Belinda Rochester.
‘Wow. You have a cast-iron ego, don’t you?’ she said now.
That halted his advance when his toes nearly touched hers and he simmered down on her, the heat from the fire baking even hotter parts of him that were already ablaze. Every part of his body was hyper-alert. ‘Would you like references? From previous satisfied customers?’
The laugh that barked from her was more about the release of pressure than any delight she took in his words. She leaned back away from him. ‘No, thank you.’
‘Then you leave me no alternative but to prove it to you.’
He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, and then swooped down to take her outraged mouth with his. She held herself stiff and frozen for seconds and the small part of him that was still semi-conscious wondered if he’d misjudged her. But her struggles were half-hearted and the squirming only served to grind them closer together in some very intimate places. Places that were already on high alert.
His body responded graphically to the torturous rubbing, and her eyes flew open. She stared at him with curiosity blazing out of the sapphire depths, and her struggling ceased. His hands roamed freely across the soft exposed skin of her back and shoulders as his mouth echoed them across her lips.
Slowly, so slowly, she relaxed in his arms until her own crept up to circle his neck and she uttered a tiny little sigh. Her mouth matched his exploration and his whole body twitched as she tentatively slid her tongue in to duel with his, her delicate teeth nipping at his lips. She gasped when he returned the favour.
‘Why are you smiling?’ he murmured against the lips that had parted in a grin against his.
She stretched more fully against him, pressing hard nipples into his chest. The fact that his kisses had made them like that only burned him more. ‘If you’d asked me this morning how you and I would be spending our wedding night,’ she breathed, hot and heavy against his skin, ‘this would have been the last thing I would have imagined.’
‘And that’s funny?’
‘Only because it’s the first thing most people would imagine.’
He took her mouth again, hard and hungry. In case it was the last chance he got. ‘You have a point. But I say we just go with it …’
But Bel showed no signs of slowing and she led him backwards until the sofa edge hit her calves. Okay, so things were officially not going at all as he’d expected either. He took her slight weight and eased her down onto her back before sinking down on top of her, sliding sideways slightly so that he didn’t press uncomfortably on her abdomen. Where two little lives nestled.
He happily pressed into her everywhere else—hard where she was soft, flesh against flesh. Her fingers speared through his hair and kept his mouth locked on hers and his own traced down the flushed heat of her skin—one resting just below the curve of a breast and the other sliding to her thigh. He bunched her skirt and dragged it upwards, desperate to feel the silken length of those long legs against his hands. He stroked the back of his hand clear up to where the thin strap of her panties crossed her hip.
Her eyes flew open again. And stayed open. She twisted her mouth free and took several deep breaths. Flynn shifted his focus to her throat, which suddenly stretched out enticingly in front of him, pale and luminous.
‘Flynn …’ Small hands pushed ineffectively against him.
His body on fire, he mouthed his way to the high point in her jaw, just below her earlobe, and breathed into it, ‘What?’
Bel groaned deep at the back of her throat and pressed into his lips. The sound did terrible things to his self-control and he arched his desire more firmly against her. God, why hadn’t they been doing this from the beginning?
‘Flynn …!’
The firm tone finally got his attention. He pulled his mouth free and stared at her. She lay below him, flushed, dishevelled, undignified and utterly gorgeous. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t … um …’ Her chest rose and fell enticingly with the strain of speaking. ‘This can’t …’
This can’t happen.
He knew that. Somewhere. But his body sure hadn’t got the message. Frustration screamed through him. ‘You started it, Princess.’ He’d only planned on kissing her; she was the one who’d moved things to the sofa.
‘I know, I … Oh, God …’ Her luminous eyes narrowed in a pained frown. ‘Let me up. I can’t think while you’re …’
Harder than a dry riverbed for you?
Also not something he’d expected tonight. Though he couldn’t be sorry.
He shifted his weight so that she could sit up, and carefully slid the hem of her dress back down for her. She pushed herself into a more upright position. Awkward and embarrassed and—his stomach sank—was that a flare of shame?
‘I should explain …’
He slid his eyes
away, not ready for what was going to come. ‘Nothing to explain,’ he gritted.
‘No, Flynn. I should explain.’ She swung her legs to the floor and pushed herself more respectably into the sofa back. Then she met his eyes. And held them. ‘I’m a virgin, Flynn.’
If it was possible for all the air to get sucked out of his lungs just as a new lot rushed in, it happened, robbing him of speech.
A virgin?
The smile she gave him was unsteady. ‘So all of … this … is a bit new to me.’
He mastered the air flailing around in his lungs and forced it into words. ‘All of it?’ His inner caveman roared and thumped the ground with his club. His were the first hands on her perfect flesh? She’d never even got horizontal with a man?
‘Not the kissing, but …’ She shrugged. The pink high in her cheeks made the blue of her raised eyes ever more startling. More beautiful.
He had air now but was still basically speechless. ‘How?’
She laughed, throaty and low. ‘Bad management?’
The awkwardness was still there. He pushed fully upright and turned more towards her. ‘No, really. How? Why?’
Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly. But eventually she said, ‘I’ve been waiting for Mr Right.’
He narrowed his eyes. Something niggled. A girl like her must have had a world of offers at the ready. But this was Belinda Rochester he was talking to. ‘Mr Right or Mr Good Enough For You?’
She nearly managed to hide the wince. But then she locked clear, deep blue eyes on his. ‘Okay. Yes. I was waiting for someone special. But not because I thought I was,’ she raced on. ‘I just … set a high bar.’
The best man she ever knew …
Old doubts came surging back. He waved his hands towards the sofa, his voice thick. ‘So what was this? Some kind of consolation prize?’
Bel took a deep breath and watched Flynn’s face streak ashen. He thought she was telling him he didn’t measure up. She knew enough about old pain to recognise it when she saw it. The part of her that had lived her whole life not being good enough cried out for the sudden evidence of it in him. Somehow he was totally missing the fact that she’d just been lying spread-eagled under him with her skirt hiked high, and was focusing instead on a few simple words.
