His Command

by Sophie H. Morgan

  She turned but jumped about a foot as she bumped into his solid body. Damn Genies and their flashing. She stared helplessly up at him as he tangled his hand in her hair.

  His eyes flared like a lightning storm. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  It might have been a statement, or a plea, or a command, but the need in his eyes echoed the vicious tug in her belly, the desire that dragged its claws through her. And with his hands on her, his heat encircling, all she could do was weakly nod.

  She might have moaned; all she was aware of was heat and power and the taste of man and mango as he slanted his mouth over hers. His body was so strong against her, hard planes that created friction as she anchored herself with a grip around his neck.

  Hailey was lost in the textures of the kiss, the pleasure of it as he made love to her mouth. Confident in every stroke of his tongue, the pressure of his lips and hands as he slid the other around her waist and tugged her against him so she was plastered to him like a vine to a wall.

  Now she knew she moaned, frustration rocketing from behind the barrier of repression where she’d stuffed it. Her hands slid into his hair, gripping him, positioning him so she could taste another angle.

  His mouth left her, placing soft kisses along her jaw and down her neck. She shivered with each wet nip.

  Finally, he kissed her nose and let go. His eyes when she opened hers were so bright with amber it was like lava—and they burned with the same intensity.

  She fell back onto her feet—she couldn’t remember stretching up on tiptoe—and managed to rest against the back of the couch. “Ughn.” Nice. Way to make with the eloquence.

  “Hailey.” His voice was pure gravel. “I’m not a relationship guy.”

  She’d already figured that out. It took her a second, but she managed to speak. “So?”

  “I wanted to remind you my offer was all about having a good time. Not . . .”

  “Forever?” Hailey’s smile was wry. Her lips felt tender. “Ryder, no offense, but has anyone ever told you you’re an arrogant ass?”

  He looked surprised before a rueful grin curled his lips into a megawatt smile.

  She almost melted under the voltage. He was sexy when he was a brooding, desirous Genie, but as a self-aware man, he was devastating.

  Drawing on reserves, she backed up so there was space between them. “Ryder, I . . . I haven’t made up my mind yet. Whether it’d be a good idea. For me.” She exhaled, seizing her much-loved control, drawing it back until she felt herself again. “I don’t want to lead you on.”

  “You’re not.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just . . . find it really hard not to touch you.”

  Damn, but she wished he would stop being blunt. So much sexier than a practiced line.

  So much harder to say no to.

  * * *

  “Hailey.” Serena air-kissed both of Hailey’s cheeks, all politeness. “You’re looking well.”

  “Serena.” Hailey returned the gesture, steeling herself before looking into Ethan’s baby blues. “Ethan.”

  “Hailey.” Ethan nodded, soulful face neutral. His gaze was shuttered.

  It was almost the end of the workday, Thursday night. Hailey had contacted Serena about possible non-cheesy fairy-tale ideas, only to be pushed into meeting for drinks. She’d agreed as she’d stabbed a pen into a notepad and twisted it.

  Just say NO.

  No to the drinks to discuss her ideas. No to the awkward small talk while sitting across from her ex who reminded her of heartbreak and his perfect fiancée who gave her the urge to smack something really hard.

  But they were clients, and clients were king.

  She wished fervently for her couch and slippers as she and the perfect couple waited in the noisy hubbub surrounding the bar. A mental knife appeared and she stabbed all the self-doubt and memories. She needed to be professional, not the ex-girlfriend.

  A tight smile as she wished she were anywhere else. If only Ryder was here to cash in on that wish.

  The bar Serena had chosen, Lullaby, was one of the newer hotspots aimed at young professionals and had that TGIF feel, even though it was only Thursday. Soft jazz piped under muted conversation, lights were dimmed and placed at intervals to create a bluesy feel. Groups of lawyers, doctors, and businessmen and women huddled in the leather booths, ties yanked down, hair pulled free from tight knots.

  Hailey kept hers slicked back, her elegant skirt suit fitting in with the sea of designer suits. Her dad had always taught her when you went into battle, you went with your armor on. Or the navy equivalent, in any case.

  Serena was looking fantastic, naturally, legs Heidi Klum would envy accentuated by a pretty black dress and patent heels. Ethan was more casual, in cashmere and boat shoes. His hair still had that soft wave to it that Hailey had once upon a time loved to run her hands through. Before he’d crushed her hopes, dreams, and confidence. The ass.

  A sudden flash of memory from the other night interrupted that one, of Ryder’s hands, his determined mouth, the heat and smoke of his taste.

  She clung to that, the feeling of feminine power it had given her, and focused on the bar. “Shall we get a drink?” Or five?

  She waved off any protests as she paid for them—at least this way she could expense it—and followed the couple to a booth in back. The two chose one side, which left Hailey alone on the other.

  “It’s a nice place,” she said as she situated herself, pulling on Planner Persona like a comfort blanket. She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear, mostly to keep her jumpy hands busy. “Do you come here often?”

  “Every now and again. It’s more Ethan’s scene than mine.” Serena did that twitchy society smile. “What about you? Have you been here before?”

  “I don’t have the time.”

  “No.” Ethan spoke up, his voice soft. His gaze on her. “You never did.”

  What had been awkward now turned up to agonizing. She wondered if she could get away with kicking his shin and blaming the cramped seating.

  Moving on . . .

  Hailey slid her notepad and printed photos out of her soft leather briefcase without commenting. See? Personal growth. “So, I’ve put together some ideas from the chat Serena and I had regarding the theme.” She laid out five photos facing them. “What I thought might be nice is sticking with the nature side of fairy tales.”

  “Nature?” Serena raised an eyebrow as she picked up one of the photos of flowers Hailey intended to use. “I don’t want my wedding to look like a hippie’s.”

  “It won’t,” Hailey assured her. “What I’m thinking is more enchantment.” She tapped one of the example photos, that of a reception they’d organized for a past couple. “Lots of flowers, sticking with white and green. Your calla lilies, peonies, gardenias, maybe some sweet peas. It’d be good to choose an accent to pop against the neutral palate of the garden, like berry or purple. Lanterns, small and elegant, silver, to hang everywhere. Like stars. Pillar candles with wreaths wrapped around them to lead the way up the aisle, with tiny flickering tea lights interspersed between. And ornate candelabras with vines creeping around for the main tables, again with your whites, your greens, and your chosen accent color.”

  Serena had lost her skepticism and was considering the photos with a little line between her brows.

  Hailey pushed on. “You get the feel of enchantment, of fairy-tale love, without going overboard. And you can have silver or glass beads running throughout to catch the light. The Lighthouse can accommodate a small bower if you carry the theme through to the altar, and we can drape the lights and beads from the ceiling. Married by candlelight.”

  Serena passed the photo on to Ethan, who studied it without speaking.

  Hailey took the opportunity to covertly study her ex. He looked tired, she thought. Pale. Still good-looking, but . . . she couldn’t help but compare the golden, pretty-boy features to Ryder’s slightly messy, rough-and-tumble, leather-jacket-and-jeans dark sinner’s looks. He
made Ethan look like a pale imitation of handsome. A watercolor next to vivid charcoal.

  And Hailey was definitely developing a taste for bolder strokes.

  More important, Ryder made her feel good about herself. She couldn’t remember the last time Ethan had made her feel anything but a disappointment.

  “I love it,” Serena said finally, cutting through the mounting tension. “It’s different enough to be talked about, but not so different Daddy’ll have a fit. It’s romantic and tasteful.” She smiled. A real smile. “I love it.”

  “Thank you.” Hailey blinked, surprised at Serena’s enthusiasm. She was usually so muted. Beige. “I’m so pleased you like the idea.”

  “Darling, don’t you think it’s perfect?”

  Ethan nodded, putting down the photo. “You’re good at this.” He almost seemed surprised.

  “Anything either of you want to add or change to the idea?” Hailey suppressed the fist of annoyance Ethan’s surprise brought on. He never had shown much interest in her work, so no wonder he hadn’t any idea how good she was. All she’d heard was how her career took up too much of her time. Never mind that he’d spent the majority of his days poring over his poetry.

  “I can’t think of anything. Darling?”

  “I’m writing a poem about true love for the wedding.” Ethan’s gaze touched Hailey’s. “Can it be featured on the main table in some way?”

  “We can incorporate it into the design, sure.” She answered Ethan’s question and made a note on her pad, writing with slow emphasis so she didn’t make a sarcastic comment about the true love poetry he’d written for her. “I’ll sketch out a few ideas for the next meeting. Now, the cake . . .”

  It took her another twenty minutes to outline her ideas, but Serena proved to be easier than Hailey had feared, agreeing with ninety percent of the ideas and supplying her own for the ones she disliked. If it wasn’t for the fact that she was a snob marrying Hailey’s ex, the meeting could have been termed a great one.

  There was only an inch of vodka left in Hailey’s martini and she already had an eye on the door when Serena leaned against Ethan with a face that spelled sly trouble. “Now,” she said, in a tone that confirmed Hailey’s suspicions, “about this Genie of yours.”

  Crap. “Ryder?”

  “Unless you have more than one on the hook.” Serena caressed Ethan’s arm, which hung around her shoulders. “I have to say, having my wedding planned by the woman dating one of the Genie twins has a certain cachet.”

  Hailey fought the urge to fan her hot face and played with the stem of her martini glass instead. “Erica Pearce is a full-service company,” she joked, voice too jovial. “We like our clients to get whatever they want.”

  God, how should she play it? A hot affair she didn’t expect to last or a hot affair she hoped would turn into something lasting? She didn’t want to be looked at with even more pity when she and Ryder “broke up.” She’d sooner look like a fast woman for jumping in the sack with a Genie than a pathetic mess who got dumped twice in one year.

  “You said you’ve only been dating him over a week?” Serena prodded.

  Fast, it is. “Yes.”

  “Instant attraction.” Her brows lifted. “How . . . romantic.”

  Hailey cringed inwardly as she tried on a bashful smile. “Well. You know how Genies can be.”

  “Not really.”

  She made a gesture. “When they see something they want, it’s full steam ahead. Jump straight in.” She managed another smile and lifted one shoulder. “I never stood a chance.”

  Serena looked like the cat that got the canary, assuming the canary was plump with gossip.

  A frown flickered onto Ethan’s brow. “That’s not like you,” he said.

  Anger licked, a relief to feel instead of the squirming embarrassment. Old wounds flared as she heard his scathing words as if he’d said them five minutes ago instead of six months.

  You’re too controlled. I need someone exciting, who’ll be spontaneous with me. Impulsive.

  She stared down her nose at him. Jerk. “We never knew each other that well.”

  Ethan continued to frown. In fact, he looked as if he’d swallowed a bug. No wonder. For her to have an impulsive affair with a famous Genie was as far out of his belief system as having Santa Claus crash down the chimney.

  Hailey determinedly steered the conversation away from her private life, trying to stay at least a little professional in their eyes.

  Five minutes later, when Hailey was covertly checking her watch to see if it was an acceptable time to call it a night, Serena was called over to some friends at another table.

  “Play nice,” she cautioned before she left, a flip of her hair as if she knew she had no worries.

  And then there were two.

  Hailey pursed her lips as she looked anywhere but at him. Bring in an axe and even that wouldn’t break the sudden tension. Maybe a chainsaw . . .

  She felt Ethan’s gaze on her. His fingers drummed an impatient tune on the table before he abruptly stopped.

  “What’s going on with you, Hales?” he asked, the frown sneaking into his voice.

  She hated the nickname on his lips. “I’m not sure that’s your business anymore.” She folded her arms, concealing her jittery hands. Exhaling one short breath, she lifted her gaze to meet his.

  He always had been a master of the disapproving stare, though Lieutenant Commander Lawson had set the bar too high for Ethan to catch. A part of her was viciously pleased he disliked the rumors of her and Ryder. The other part just didn’t care.

  She took it as a win. It was definitely an improvement.

  When she said nothing, he waved a hand in a wide gesture. “A fling with a Genie? That’s so . . . irresponsible.”

  And of course Hailey Lawson was always responsible. How she hated that he knew her well enough to acknowledge the painful truth.

  He leaned in. “Was it because of me? Did I drive you to it?”

  Her inner grumblings screeched to a halt. “Drive me to it?”

  “You know. Solace.” He reached across the table and patted her hand. The ultimate insult. She slid hers away as he spoke with earnest worry. “I still care about you, Hailey. Enough to tell you that hurting yourself like this isn’t good for you.”

  Okay. So there were three of them sitting at the table. Hailey, Ethan, and the dinosaur of an ego he’d lugged in with him.

  Bring on the machine gun, ’cause she was taking that sucker down.

  “You think I need to be driven into a Genie’s arms?” she hissed. “A Genie who happens to be sensual and gorgeous and very experienced?”

  “Don’t do this. You always attack.” He shook his head, sad. Always the victim. “I’m trying to help.”

  An often-heard phrase in their relationship. His efforts to help her be a better girlfriend had slammed her pride until she’d been nothing more than a walking doormat. She’d existed to please him. And she never had up until the day he’d packed his bags, leaving her with a level of self-confidence that could fill an espresso cup.

  Suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, she was struck with the most incredible relief. Thank God he broke up with me.

  For all the tears and the heartbreak and the panic that he was right about her, she was so much better off on her own than with a man like Ethan. A man who tore her down instead of building her up.

  Amen.

  She was still staring, a little giddy, as Serena slid back into her seat.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, eyeing the two of them as she settled. “Where were we?”

  Hailey shook her head to clear it, still bemused, before turning her attention to Serena.

  “Right.” Serena answered her own question. The low lights slanted across her face, highlighting a gleam of skepticism. “Your boyfriend.”

  Like a boomerang, it seemed the woman couldn’t help but return to Ryder. Hailey couldn’t really blame her. There was just something about Genies in genera
l—and Ryder in particular.

  She smiled. “You want to hear the juicy details.”

  Serena’s eyes went wide as Ethan’s narrowed. She leaned in so she could hear over the noise of the bar. “Well, only if you want to share. We’re all friends here, right?”

  It had only been about a week since Serena had accused Hailey of wanting Ethan back. Ah, memories.

  Hailey chewed on her bottom lip. No matter how much she wanted to irritate Ethan and his pitying ego, or Serena with her falseness and eagerness for gossip, she should remain professional. In control.

  But . . .

  Rome flashed into her head. The sheer freedom of deciding not to care what people thought, to make an exhibition of herself in public. Throwing herself into something where she didn’t control what happened.

  Fun.

  Okay, so it wasn’t professional, but what part of this farce was? And seeing that slightly superior look on Ethan’s face, she slackened the grip she had on herself and let the bad girl out. Just a little.

  Making sure to milk it, Hailey took her time and finished the last inch in her martini glass. When she’d finished, she mirrored Serena by leaning in close.

  “It’s incredible,” she said, and she didn’t have to fake the smile that curved her lips. Just the memory of Ryder’s scorching kiss was enough to put a glow into her face. “Magic, in every way that counts.”

  “Wow,” Serena breathed.

  Ethan’s jaw ticked.

  “He has the best hands, you know.” Hailey slid one finger up the stem of her martini glass. A little sigh left her lips. “And so generous. He lets a woman go first—in all things.” Heat flushed her cheeks and she wet her bottom lip.

  Time for the finale.

  She shrugged as if she was helplessly under Ryder’s spell (something that wasn’t that far from the truth, if she was honest).

  “What can I say, Serena?” She fought the urge to drill Ethan with a hardnosed stare, instead smiling like a woman with a Genie for a lover. “Once you’ve been touched by Ryder, it’s hard for any man to measure up.”

  * * *

  “You said that?” Max hooted as she accepted the beer from Hailey. She slapped the cushion on her knee as she chuckled. “You’re turning mean. I like it.”