No one could take their eyes off you when we walked in just now. You’re a beautiful woman.
“He liked it, okay? Now can we just finish our lunch in peace?”
“Oh wow, you have it bad, don’t you? I’ve never seen you like this!”
Sierra gave up on her salad. “Seen me like what? And I do not have it bad! Yes, Michael’s an attractive man, and okay, we, um, enjoyed each other’s company.”
That much was true, at least.
She battled an inclination to play down the date.
“This is fabulous! I’m so glad for you!”
“Jen, it was nothing but a first date!” Even if she did have to create the impression that she and Michael were interested in each other, she felt a knee-jerk need to dial back the pace at which her friend was leaping to those very conclusions.
For her own peace of mind, if nothing else.
Jen leaned forward. “So what does Brian think of all this?”
Sierra shrugged. “He’s not thrilled.”
Doubts assailed her. Had she embarked on a desperate mission to save her and her mother’s home and business in a way that was guaranteed to backfire? How had what was supposed to have been a simple business interview for some extra money turned into this baroque arrangement and the need to convince those around them that she and Michael were falling in love?
Her desperation, that’s how. And she was desperate enough to make it work.
Jen watched Sierra’s face. “Grace liked him, though, didn’t she?”
Sierra nodded.
“So what’s the problem?” Jen asked. “I like him, your mom likes him, and judging from all your blushing, you seem to like him. Brian will come around once he sees Michael treats you well.”
Sierra bit her lip, wishing she could tell her the true circumstances of her relationship. If ever she needed to confide in someone it was now. But she couldn’t. “Nothing, I guess,” she replied with determined brightness. “I suppose I’m just nervous about meeting Michael’s family this coming Friday. You know, his father and two brothers.”
“Whoa!” Jen exclaimed. “That’s quick”
“Right?” Sierra matched her friend’s tone. “Cocktails at his father’s home in Sea Cliff, with a few family friends.”
“Wonderful! Another opportunity to dress you up!”
The enthusiasm on her friend’s face made Sierra laugh despite herself. “Well, I’ll need all the help I can get, I guess, so yes.” She glanced at her watch. “Yikes, it’s late. I’d better get back to the office. Let’s talk later this week, and set it up, okay? I’m going to need all my courage to walk into a den of illustrious Donovans.”
Chapter Five
The cocktail party was in full swing when Sierra arrived at the Donovan home. Michael insisted on sending a car to her office because Sierra had put in a long day. As she was helped out of it by the driver and greeted at the door by the family housekeeper, she couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed by her surroundings.
It was amazing what a great distance in social class and wealth only a few geographical miles could represent in San Francisco. While the real estate prices in her area of town had skyrocketed in the past couple of decades, it had originally been a middle-class neighborhood. Sea Cliff, on the other hand, had been a site of luxury homes since its earliest days.
As Sierra entered the large foyer, Michael emerged from a room beyond it where the party was already in full swing. Her heart pounded. He looked incredibly attractive in dark trousers and black cashmere turtleneck.
They hadn’t seen each other since their date, but Michael had called nightly to speak with her about her day. Sierra half-suspected it was to make sure she didn’t rethink the advisability of the contract.
She would make good on her word.
During one of the calls, Michael talked her through their strategy for the cocktail evening. “Remember, this is a party to confirm publicly the rumors that have been circulating since we went out last week. We need to move quickly, and people need to understand that our relationship is serious.”
He’d been all business on the phone, and never referred to what happened between them in the car. Sierra was relieved.
She couldn’t afford to let wine go to her head again. A business deal was on the line as well as her financial and emotional independence. Mixing business with pleasure never worked, and people got hurt. She’d learned that in college, to her cost, and she wouldn’t let it happen again.
Sierra handed the vintage faux leopard swing jacket Jen lent her from her boutique to the housekeeper and gulped despite her resolution. While it was all an act for the benefit of others, Michael’s expression was everything a model lover’s should be.
Appreciative.
Desiring.
Scorching.
“Good evening, Sierra,” he said, for the housekeeper’s benefit and then, as the woman turned away to hang Sierra’s wrap, he whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful.”
Sierra sighed. “I’ve told you, you don’t need to say things like that. I’ll act my part whether or not you compliment me.” She strived for a casual tone. “And you can thank Jen once again. She masterminded my outfit.”
Michael straightened. “Jen is becoming one of my favorite people.” His tone went from sizzling to friendly to match her own, but his gaze was still warm.
This time Jen had kitted her out in a retro tailored black pencil skirt with high waistline that emphasized the length of her long, slim legs and hit them mid-calf. It was paired with a tight-fitting long-sleeved gray sweater with the same strand of pearls she had worn a week earlier. Sierra was covered from neck to calf and wrist.
Why, then, did the expression in Michael’s eyes make her feel half-naked? Maybe he was one of those men who couldn’t turn off the charm or the libido. God knows there were enough of them around.
Except he’d shown her last week that he had depth and intelligence as well. As a package deal, he was a lethal combination.
She always avoided lethal combinations at all costs.
“What?” Sierra smoothed her hair coiled in an elegant chignon at the base of her neck from which a few auburn strands escaped. “Aren’t I properly dressed for the occasion?”
“Oh, you’re very proper.” Michael took her arm. “The sweater, the skirt, the dark stockings, the black heels.” Then, as he opened the door to the party, he added, “All I can think about right now is stripping everything off of you and getting you to wrap those long, long legs around my waist.”
With that, he ushered her into a room full of family and guests.
****
When he came into the foyer and saw Sierra, a wave of desire slammed into Michael’s gut. If she’d looked sexy the night they went to Bijou, she looked twice as alluring tonight in her elegant garb.
Damn Jen, who probably knew exactly what she was doing when she chose those clothes. Sierra’s figure was impeccable, and the fabrics, while covering her, revealed every last tantalizing curve of leg, thigh, waist, and breast. She’d reddened just now when he whispered his fantasy into her ear. He loved making her blush. He’d lay money on a bet that every red-blooded man in the room was having the same thoughts.
Michael was a little surprised by how possessive he felt as he steered Sierra through the sitting room full of guests toward his father. His remarks in the foyer had been designed to remind her they were acting the parts of impassioned lovers.
Or so he told himself.
But the truth was, they were also a statement of fact. He wanted her. He’d wanted her in his office. He’d wanted her the night they went out. And he wanted her now. He could deal with desire, though. It was one of the reasons he hired Sierra, after all. Hell, the more others could witness the chemistry between them, the more convinced they’d be that their relationship was the real deal.
Michael frowned. Granted, he and Sierra were bound together by a business arrangement, not a personal one, but it only stood to reaso
n that he would protect what was his, either way.
And for all intents and purposes, according to the contract, Sierra was his for the duration.
He tightened his arm on her elbow, glared at an old friend of the family who stared at her, and approached his father who stood with his brothers near a giant fireplace.
“Sierra, this is Connor Donovan, my father. Father, this is Sierra Callahan.”
Sierra extended her hand to the older man. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir.”
At several inches over six feet, the indomitable Connor towered over all men but his three sons. Despite his recent stroke, he was an impressive figure. “Sierra, is it? Happy to meet you. Michael rarely introduces me to his female companions.”
Michael groaned and cursed the older man’s frankness. Connor’s stroke hadn’t diminished it one whit.
Sierra laughed. “I can imagine. I’m honored he has tonight.”
Without missing a beat and with a charisma similar to his oldest son’s, Connor inclined his head. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Callahan.”
Trust his father to turn on the charm. That was a good sign. Connor was feeling better tonight than he had in the past weeks and his speech was scarcely slurred at all. He liked Sierra.
Hurdle one down.
Michael turned Sierra toward his brothers. “Sierra, this is Rafe. And this is Gabe. Don’t trust them farther than you can throw them.”
Sierra greeted them. As co-authors of the idea of his contract with Sierra, they sized her up. She smiled, shaking each man’s hand in turn. “I see height runs in the Donovan family. All three of you have a family resemblance to your father, who must be very proud of you.”
Rafe smiled. “Gabe and I are fraternal twins and had a different mother than Michael. But yes, Father’s genes won out in the height department.”
“I’m happy to meet you,” replied Gabe. “It’s rare to run into a woman who’s willing to take on our big brother on equal terms.”
Michael shook his head. “Don’t let them put you off, Sierra. I’m not that terrifying.”
She shot him a tart look. “I never thought you were. Don’t flatter yourself!”
At his brothers’ hoots of laughter, Michael relaxed into a genuine smile and shook his head.
Hurdle number two down.
“I can see if I let you talk any longer with my father and brothers, they’ll decimate me. Let me introduce you to some of our friends.”
For the next half hour Michael and Sierra circulated. The party was small by San Francisco society standards, a gathering of people the Donovans had known well over the years. Michael was proud of the way Sierra greeted the other guests. His instincts about her had been correct. She was the perfect choice for his contract bride.
After tonight, no one would question his choice of a wife, regardless of how quickly they progressed from meeting to marriage. Sierra was smart, beautiful, and even more poised than Michael anticipated based on their previous meetings. She was a potent combination of intelligence, good looks, and, had the guests only known it, professionalism. So potent in fact that Michael felt another surge of desire. He wanted this woman, and he didn’t need to hide it, given the roles they played.
“Thompson, excuse us a moment. I’d like to show Sierra the view before it gets much darker.” Michael intervened in a conversation she was having with a family friend and his wife. The older couple nodded, exchanging smiles with each other.
Before Sierra could react, Michael whisked her through a curtained set of French windows that led to a balcony overlooking the San Francisco bay. The cold, foggy night air was an immediate contrast to the lighted warmth of the room they had just left.
With no thought for the view and no preliminaries, Michael backed Sierra against the low columns of the balcony, brought her hips close, and lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that instantly flamed out of control.
****
Sierra hadn’t thought it was possible to feel more turned on than after Michael’s outrageous whisper about stripping off her clothes.
But she was wrong.
Michael anchored her; his burgeoning erection nudged her belly. She moaned as his searching mouth opened hers. Before she could help herself, she snaked her arms up his chest and around his neck, pulling him closer as their tongues met and tangled in a passionate kiss.
With the part of her brain that could still think, she realized less than an hour had passed since she entered the Donovan home, and already she and Michael couldn’t keep their hands off each other. It didn’t bode well for the business side of their relationship.
The only side of their relationship, she reminded herself.
Then she stopped thinking altogether and gasped as Michael rocked his hips into hers and moved his hands to her hair. “God, you feel good,” he murmured in her ear, trailing a hot tongue down along her jawline. “You’re turning me into a teenage boy all over again.” He nipped and worried a tiny spot along her neck, and she moaned her pleasure.
“Please…” she gasped.
“Please what? Please more, or please stop?” Then he took her lips in another ravaging kiss that forbade an answer.
Dizzy with desire, Sarah grasped Michael’s shoulders to hold herself steady and returned kiss for feverish kiss. Heat pooled in her pelvis, the tiny panties beneath her tailored clothes dampening.
Michael’s hands moved to her waist to jerk up the hem of her sweater. A moment later, he cupped a breast through the gossamer-thin bra, homing in on a nipple that was already hard with arousal. She moaned again at his touch and covered his hand with one of her own to direct its caress.
Was it possible to reach orgasm from the mere pressure of his hips against hers, the touch of his hand on her breast alone? So quickly, so urgently? Because Sierra was poised on the verge of shattering. She felt shameless, needy. Wanted something only Michael could give.
She wrenched her mouth from his. “We can’t do this.”
“We’ve got to do this,” he groaned, covering it again with his own.
Michael maneuvered Sierra’s narrow, tailored skirt up her legs to her thighs, positioning the hardness of his crotch against her. His hand traveled lower to test her softness and encountered bare flesh between the tops of her thigh-high stockings and her panties.
“God, Sierra,” he muttered. “I have to touch you!”
She whimpered when Michael inserted two fingers underneath the elastic leg of her panties and tested her wet depths. She flung her head back and closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of his fingers inside her, exploring and then teasing her sensitive nubbin with a finger wet with her own juices. She jerked her hips against the rhythmic thrust of his fingers, loving the sound of Michael’s labored breathing, and reached for the climax that lay just ahead…
“Hello, Michael.” The high, frosty tones of a female voice fell upon her ears like a splash of ice-cold water. “Having your way with another female, I see?”
Sierra froze.
Michael’s tall frame hid most of her from the view of the interloper as he moved to shield her further.
In a few deft motions, he helped restore order to Sierra’s clothing, struggling a bit with her narrow skirt. Only then did he turn to face the speaker, anchoring Sierra to his side with a strong arm around her waist.
“Hello, Lydia. Need some air?”
Sierra admired his casual manner. She, on the other hand, was mortified to have been caught in such a compromising position and could not emulate Michael’s sang-froid.
Tall, elegant, and dressed in a black trouser suit that matched her ebony hair, a simple cream cashmere sweater beneath, the woman eyed her with overt hostility.
“It was getting a tad warm inside. But heavens, it looks as if things are scorching out here!” She smiled, but her eyes were cold.
“Lydia Foster, I’d like you to meet Sierra Callahan, my companion. I was showing her the view.” Michael’s forbidding expression dared contradiction.
“How do you do?” Sierra strove to match Michael’s equanimity. And failed.
Lydia eyed Michael. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?” She addressed her next remark to Sierra. “Oh, but please, you mustn’t mind me. I understand better than most what Michael is like with women. “
Sierra moved away from his side. Or tried to. His arm around her waist didn’t budge. He smiled down at her. “Lydia’s and my family go way back. We’ve been friends since childhood.” His tone was light but his expression was determined. “I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
Somehow Sierra smiled. She was there to play a part. It was time to play it. It wasn’t time to indulge in a fantasy that Michael had taken her outside to the veranda to do anything other than create a convincing portrayal of a man who couldn’t wait to be alone with his date. They were two adults, and things had gotten a little out of hand. It didn’t mean anything.
She lifted her chin and looked into his eyes. “It wouldn’t occur to me to worry.” Turning to Lydia, she continued. “In fact, Ms. Foster, I’m sure you and Michael would like to catch up a bit on your own. I’m a bit chilly, so I’ll head inside now.” Disentangling her hand from Michael’s, she touched his cheek and pressed a quick kiss on his lips. “Don’t be long, or I’ll start to miss you.”
In the restroom, Sierra locked the door and sat, trembling, on the edge of a huge sunken bathtub. What the hell had happened out there? She’d been at the Donovan home for no longer than an hour and yet somehow ended up nearly having sex on the balcony where anyone could have interrupted them.
Where someone had interrupted!
It was embarrassing and humiliating, and not just because they’d been discovered. In public, no less. It was even worse than that. All Michael had to do was touch her, it seemed, and she went up in flames. This was only their third time together, and each time desire between them flared out of control.
Her self-imposed moratorium on men must be responsible. She’d gone without a man for too long.
Buying His Bride (The Donovan Brothers Trilogy Book 1) Page 6
