Wicked Heat

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Wicked Heat Page 8

by Kelli Ireland


  And while he’d resented the hell out of his old man, he fully intended to keep true to his word. He didn’t take vows lightly.

  Ella stepped closer, scattering his darkening thoughts like light permeating shadow. The wind toyed with loose curls that had slipped free of her sloppy topknot. Her semisheer sarong fluttered around her long, toned legs.

  Liam let his eyes drift closed even as his sex awoke with a hard pulse.

  He knew exactly how those legs felt when they were wrapped around him.

  The wind shifted and carried with it the floral bouquet of her perfume. She was a siren. How could she be anything else? She was smart as hell, beautiful, charming, witty—all traits Liam valued in friends as well as in lovers. He’d never been lucky enough to find all of those things in one person, though. Until now. The realization was a stinging buzz in his chest, a feeling not unlike the vibration of a large gong struck in close proximity. It vibrated through him until he was forced to rub the valley between his pecs in an attempt to assuage the feeling.

  “The tulips will be here on Tuesday, in tight bud condition, with a guaranteed arrival of no later than 3:00 p.m. That gives me time to put together the bouquets and boutonnieres without the heat forcing the flowers open prematurely.” She sighed. “I have Arvin speaking to the resort’s contracted fishermen about harvesting the scallops, but he’s not sure what they’ll be able to gather this time of year. We may have to add them to the seafood croquettes, but there will be shellfish in some form or another.”

  Liam hooked his arms behind his head and watched Ella pace the length of the deck. “You need to relax, Ella.”

  She sucked in a short breath, tension carving deep grooves in the soft skin beside her lush mouth. “I’ll relax when this wedding is a success. There’ll be time and opportunity then. But right now? I can’t. Too much is riding on luck showing up to play for my team, and in my experience she tends to avoid critical situations where I’m involved. She’ll show up afterward and be all, ‘What? You needed me? My cell never rang.’”

  Liam smiled. “You’re sexy when you’re strung out.”

  “You think so?”

  “I do.”

  She shook her head and laughed softly. “Then you ought to find me completely irresistible by Monday night.”

  “It will work out the way it’s supposed to, Ella. Trust me on this. And I find you irresistible right now.”

  “Sweet talker.” Her smile faded. “If all that mattered was an exchange of vows, I’d agree. But there’s so much more to making a bride’s dream manifest as reality. I was under the impression she wanted butterflies, not birds, released at the close of the ceremony. Now I find out she wants four dozen birds released with the kiss. So while I figure out the best place to release the butterflies that will arrive Monday, I have Arvin trying to source the birds. It’s all last-minute, of course, and all he can come up with are pigeons. Not quite the same effect as white doves soaring free.”

  Sitting up, Liam straddled the hammock and motioned her forward.

  She moved toward him like a cautious cat, lithe and smooth but ready to bolt if threatened. “What?”

  He wiggled his fingers in an impatient gesture. “You need to take a few minutes and relax.”

  “I don’t have a few minutes to relax. I ‘relaxed’ last night and slept through my alarm this morning.”

  He stood and moved toward her, silently celebrating when she held her ground and squared her shoulders. This woman was no shrinking violet. It made the battle of wills sharper and conquest that much sweeter...no matter who won. And Liam wasn’t averse to being conquered now and again.

  Pulling her into his embrace, his hands skated down her back, over the expanse of bare skin and, cupping her butt, pulled her into his semierect cock. “If you won’t take a break for your own well-being, take one for mine.”

  Ella slid her arms around his waist at the same time she twined her right leg around his left. “You’re bribing me to slack off on your sister’s wedding.”

  “No.” He lowered his head and nibbled his way along her jaw to her neck, down and then down some more until he reached her collarbone. A quick nip drew a sharp intake of breath from her, and his cock swelled hard and fast. “I’ve no doubt you’ll handle what needs handling.” Taking her hand, he rested it on his erection, his nostrils flaring when she closed her hand over his length and stroked him through his shorts.

  Ella’s breath came faster, scalding the skin of his neck. Backing toward the bedroom, she tightened her hold on him and whispered, “And what about you, Liam? Do you need to be handled?”

  “By you?” he asked. “Always.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ELLA’S PHONE BUZZED. Face buried under her pillow, she blindly searched the tabletop until she found it, but the call went to voice mail before she managed to answer.

  “Don’t you dare leave this bed.” The commanding male voice was still laced with sleep. “Whoever it was will call back, and whatever they want will keep until then.”

  Sunlight slipped through the window, softened by the gauzy mosquito netting that surrounded the bed and created a haven within the tropical paradise. “Says the man who left me without even a note yesterday morning.” She stretched until her muscles shook and then went limp, letting her arms flop onto the expansive mattress. One hand made contact with her lover’s arm.

  He grunted his objection.

  The temptation to lie there until noon was too real. “I need sustenance.” She weakly clapped her hands. “Breakfast in bed, man. Make it happen.”

  The bed shifted. Small electronic notes indicated Liam was placing a call. Still, it surprised her when his sleep-roughened voice greeted the person on the other end with “And good morning to you, Marise. This is Liam Baggett. I’d like to place a room service order, please.” A pause. “Crepes with fresh cream and strawberries, fruit, granola, Belgian waffles, sourdough toast, bacon, orange juice and a carafe of regular black coffee.” Another pause. “That’s it. Just charge it to my room. Oh, and if you would have the meal set up on our patio, that would be lovely.”

  Ella’s stomach rumbled in appreciation. The man certainly had good taste. She rolled onto her back and draped one arm over her eyes as the beep of the phone said Liam had disconnected the call. “How long before I can put caffeine in my system?”

  He chuckled. “Twenty minutes.”

  A warm hand slid across her abdomen, and she sucked in a sharp, short breath. “Too long.”

  “Just long enough for me to distract you,” he countered, reaching for her.

  She rolled away before he could get a good grasp on her. “No. Nope. Not happening.” Standing, she swayed with a bit of dizzy exhaustion. They’d stayed up too late last night, making love in far too many locations in and around the bungalow—the porch, the hammock, the bed, the tub, the floor. She was satisfied—so satisfied her muscles felt like overcooked noodles. It was a wonder she was able to stand without support. Not that she was complaining. At all. But the time she’d spent in personal indulgence was time that hadn’t been spent working on the wedding.

  Snatching up her cell, she thumbed to the messages and read the transcription of Arvin’s voice mail.

  Birds located. Aviary only had one dozen available. Breeder recommended another aviary on neighboring island. If the expense is acceptable, let me know and I’ll have the doves delivered. I need to order them today in order to receive them in time for the ceremony. Arvin.

  Ella pinched the bridge of her nose and focused on taking slow, deep breaths. This was another expense she hadn’t planned on. Every change Liam made came with a new cost. Like using flowers flown direct from Holland. She had expressed her concerns, but Liam dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He’d insisted that his sister had given him free rein to go over the budget. Ella had asked him to send her an email confirming that the additiona
l costs were acceptable. He’d pulled out his phone and written the email on the spot, going one step further by promising he’d cover any cost to which his sister objected.

  But Ella was still anxious. The energy drinks, the doves, the excursions...additions and subtractions to the welcome baskets. If Liam failed to honor his word to cover costs, the bride and groom could come after her and demand she pay out of pocket.

  Driven by caution, she figured she’d improvise. Somehow. Maybe hold a less expensive group activity than the private sail and scuba dive currently scheduled for the bride, groom and their guests the day prior to the ceremony. That would be one place Ella could cut a few corners.

  Leaving Liam lounging in bed, she went into the living room and opened her computer, pulling up the resort’s activities website. She traced a finger along the keypad, scrolling—scuba diving, deep-sea fishing, snorkeling, hiking. She paused. Parasailing and horseback riding. Each activity was easily one hundred and fifty dollars less per person, and she’d bet she could negotiate a better rate.

  “Liam?”

  An inarticulate sound was her only response.

  “What do you think about parasailing and horseback riding?”

  “I’d never recommend trying the two at the same time.”

  “I’m sure that’s sound advice, smart-ass. I’m asking if you think either of those activities might be a better choice for the guests instead of the sail and dive.”

  Covers rustled followed by the sound of bare feet padding across the hardwood floor. Liam appeared in the doorway, a sheet wrapped about his waist. Sunlight came down from the skylight, showcasing the hard planes and muscles of his torso, making him look like a chiseled work of art. Natural highlights in his hair softened his features. But his eyes—they were infinitely deep and far more sensual than she’d ever seen them.

  Ella wanted to abandon all attempts at work and take this man back to bed. He might frustrate the hell out of her, but he had learned his way around her body in no time at all. He could dissolve stress better than a stiff drink, relieve anxiety better than any prescription. Yeah, she’d take one of him to go, thanks.

  Blinking rapidly, she shook her head. “Stop distracting me.”

  He smiled then, slow and suggestive, and tilted his head toward the bedroom. “We still have ten minutes before breakfast gets here. Enough time for a quickie.”

  The problem was, she didn’t want a quickie. She wanted more time with him, wanted more time than this event would afford them. Already she’d begun dreading the day they’d part ways. This wasn’t like her. At all.

  But the truth was what it was.

  The only practical solution was to keep things between them light. Fun. Relaxed. She needed to keep her head in the game and her heart off the table. Period. And there was no better time to enforce her “no emotional connections” pledge than the present.

  Closing her computer, she set it aside and stood, stretching her arms above her naked body.

  Liam’s eyes grew hooded as he pushed off the door frame he’d been leaning against.

  She started toward him. “What can you do with six minutes?”

  He reached out and pulled her close, his erection prodding her belly. “More than enough, Ella.” His lips brushed hers and he smiled, the look utterly wicked. “More than enough.”

  * * *

  Liam spread out the newspaper and read through the financials before opening his computer to do a little catching up with the London office. He answered a handful of critical emails and delegated the rest to his personal assistant. He was in the process of reviewing a high-profile client’s returns, making notes on changes and calculating potential returns on amended investments when his cell rang. The ringtone was a snappy show tune, one he’d set for his sister after taking her to see a live performance on the West End for her sixteenth birthday.

  He reached for the phone and swiped to answer the call, silently thanking the powers that be for getting Ella out of hearing distance so he could speak freely. “What’s going on, squid?”

  Jenna laughed. “How long are you going to call me that awful nickname?”

  “Until I can forget you clinging to me, afraid to jump off the diving board unless I went with you.”

  “I was being cautious!” she retorted.

  “You nearly drowned the both of us,” Liam groused, though even he could hear the undiluted affection in his voice.

  “Whatever. How’s the wedding stuff going?”

  Liam leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, focused on keeping his breathing even, his tone level. “Right on schedule. You hired a stellar event coordinator.”

  “My assistant said she was pretty awesome. I hate doing this so cloak-and-dagger, but it’s the only way to keep the paparazzi off my ass.”

  “What are you telling your guests?”

  She laughed. “Nothing. We’ve handwritten notes to invite them to join us on a brief getaway. Doesn’t look like a wedding invitation at all. That was the event coordinator’s idea. What’s her name again?”

  “Ella.”

  “Right. Anyway, we’re inviting everyone like it’s an individual thing and asking them to keep it tucked under their hats so we have a chance of a paparazzi-free vacay. Most are Hollywood names and faces, so they’ll appreciate the opportunity for a private vacation. It wouldn’t surprise me if most of them suspect a wedding, but the guest list is small enough I’m not too worried about gossip.”

  “I’ll bet you a hundred pounds one of them sells you out.”

  “You’re such a cynic.”

  “Yet you didn’t take the bet.”

  “Oh, I’ll take it. But when I win, make sure you pay up in British pounds. Don’t try to cheat me by giving me American dollars. Not with the exchange rate what it is.”

  Liam chuckled. “As if you’d best me. I’ll take my winnings by way of a single Benjamin, you trusting soul.”

  “We’ll see who’s handing out money when this is all over.” She sighed, a small hitch sounding across the connection. “Is the wedding really coming together well, Liam? I’ve been worried. It’s not that I don’t trust you. You know that. It’s just...” Jenna hesitated, seeming to hunt for the right words.

  It’s not that I don’t trust you. Liam felt as if his heart had been steamrolled, backed over and steamrolled again. She had entrusted this—what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life—to him. And for the first time ever, he was going to absolutely disappoint her.

  His chest tightened at the realization. Every breath grew shorter and shorter until he struggled to breathe at all.

  “Leem?”

  She hadn’t been able to pronounce his name as a toddler. Instead, she’d called him “Leem,” and it had evolved into her nickname for him. Now she only called him that when she was out of sorts and unsure of herself. It didn’t happen often anymore.

  “Ella is top-notch, Jenna, truly in a class of her own. She has ensured that every idea presented, whether from you or I, becomes a reality.” Total truth so far as that went. Perhaps the most truth he’d spoken regarding the wedding since he’d set foot on the island.

  “There haven’t been any issues with the stuff I asked for? I know some of it will be hard to manage in such a remote location, but she was positive she could make it happen.”

  “Jenna, there’s nothing to fret over.” Except the groom. “What was it your mother always told you about getting married to our father?”

  “That she could’ve been married in a cornfield under the blazing noon sun wearing nothing but a gunny sack while holding a bouquet of thistle. She married the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, and that was what mattered.”

  “So hold on to that.”

  “I am.”

  “Are you quite certain about this, squid? You don’t have to marry him simply because
he asked, you know.”

  “I know you and Mike haven’t exactly hit it off, and it’s clear you don’t like him much, but he’s the one. My one, Liam. I love him.”

  “Then that’s the answer, I suppose.” But it didn’t have to be. She didn’t have to marry this guy just because he’d convinced Liam’s softhearted sister he was a prince among paupers.

  “It is,” Jenna answered in kind, her voice soft. “And you’ll be there to stand in for Dad, to walk me down the aisle and give me away. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Emotion welled, stealing Liam’s ability to speak. He made a noncommittal noise and then choked on the sound, coughing harshly.

  “Leem?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’ve got another call. Hold on.” She was gone and back in a flash. “That was Mike. The car service is here to pick us up. We’re headed to the airport!” she nearly squealed. “This is really happening, Liam!”

  She sounded so damnably happy...

  Leaning forward, he propped his elbows on his knees and raked his free hand through his hair. “Travel safe, squid. You’re all that matters, you know.”

  “Don’t worry so much,” she chastised. “I’ll be there soon enough and you’ll see.”

  “Jenna,” Liam wheezed. “I gave our father my word that I’d look out for you, ensure your happiness before all else...” He couldn’t finish that particular train of thought because a new realization was barreling down on him at breakneck speed.

  What if I’m wrong—wrong about the groom? Wrong about stopping the wedding? And, God save me, wrong about what would truly ensure Jenna’s happiness?

  If he was wrong, his sister was about to pay the price for his mistake.

  But he’d seen Mike treat Jenna poorly, and more than once. His boorish behavior, lack of manners and general indifference had soured Liam on the man. There was no undoing the damage. He had to protect Jenna.

 

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