by Maya Blake
Precisely the reason Vanessa needed to be gone. Rachel wasn’t going to be one of those women whose husband was sneaking around behind her back. She’d earned a doting, hot-as-hell guy and that was what she would have, dammit. A housekeeper was not going to get in her way—not as long as the Fixer got his act together.
Her impatience with Gabe was growing, especially after their phone call last night. She was this close to telling him that she knew his identity. He might be notorious in powerful circles for solving quite literally any problem, but Rachel was skeptical he had the balls to pull this off. She had been the one to come up with the idea of offing Vanessa in Vegas. Did she have to do everything but pull the actual trigger?
Hopefully her threats to Gabe last night had done the trick. If he’d just get his damn act together, Rachel could finally take a deep breath and get on with her life. Her perfect existence with Luc. Having some juicy blackmail material on her new husband’s cousin would be the icing on the cake.
“Rachel,” Luc called from the other room.
“Yes, darling?” She rose from the velvet-upholstered bench she’d been sitting on to put on her makeup. She unsubtly placed her hand on her hip and let Luc drink in the sight of her as he stepped into the bathroom.
“You aren’t dressed yet,” he muttered.
“I’m not. I thought you might want a preview of what’s to come after the party.” She dragged her fingers lightly across the lacy cup of her exquisite strapless Agent Provocateur bra. It cost more than most women spent on an entire dress. “I know you like me in black. It’s for you.”
He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head, sheer frustration pouring out of him. It made Rachel want to slap him and ask if he had any idea what any normal man would be doing to her right now.
“You look amazing, but I can’t think about that right now. I just got a call from Whispering Oaks. My father is showing signs of waking up again. The doctors say he has been moving some. They think there’s a chance he’ll come out of the coma soon. I should fly home in case he wakes up. I don’t want to miss it like we did last time.”
Um, no. That was not going to happen, but she needed to put an affectionate spin on it. “Darling, love. Your mother needs you this evening. This is a very important night for her.”
“I’m aware of that. But if I leave now, I won’t be that late getting back to the party. I need to see him for myself. I’m still pissed off we didn’t make it in time to see him the last time he woke up.”
Rachel didn’t trust the flush in his cheeks or the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze. He could be telling the truth, or he could be making up an excuse to meet with Vanessa. “It’s an hour flight, plus the drive to Malibu and then the flight back. Your mother was very clear with us. She wants everyone there on time. Not even a minute late. You’d be lucky to be back by ten. Are you going to cross your mother? Because I certainly don’t want to.” Rachel knew these were low blows but she didn’t care. Luc went to great lengths to please his mother.
Luc sighed and stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. “I’m worried about my father, okay?”
“And he’s in excellent hands.” She stepped toe to toe with him, letting him peer down into her cleavage. She knew it was his favorite view. Hopefully that would improve his dour mood. He was such a sourpuss these days. She smoothed her hand across his crisp white tuxedo shirt. “Did the doctor actually say your dad was waking up?”
“No. They couldn’t guarantee a goddamn thing.”
She smiled sweetly and spoke to him in a hushed tone. “Okay. Well, I don’t think you should get your hopes up. I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed. I tell you what—you and I can go visit your father tomorrow, just the two of us, as soon as the jet lands.” And Vanessa is dead.
He blew out a deep breath. “Okay. I’m sorry. You know how I get with my dad. I’m just worried.”
She nodded slowly to let him know that she truly understood him, even when the edge of doubt deep inside her was like a jagged razor threatening to slice her open. “Don’t worry. Your father will come out of this eventually. I truly believe that. The whole family will make it through this trying time. And then we will have our whole future ahead of us. In some ways, tonight is the first night of the rest of our lives.”
He smirked and cocked his head to the side. He was so adorable when he did that. “What makes tonight so fucking special? It’s just another of my mother’s over-the-top parties.”
Rachel forced a smile. In her excitement for things to finally be sorted out, she might have said too much. “I simply mean that all eyes will be on us tonight. We’re the next Marshall wedding on the horizon. Everyone loves to talk about happy events to come.”
“Oh, right.”
“The important thing, darling, is that after tonight, the whole world will know that you belong to me and no one else.” She kissed his cheek. “You are mine and mine alone.”
Chapter Three
Mariella frantically threw a lipstick and a pressed powder compact into her beaded evening bag. She was going to be late if she didn’t leave for the party soon. She flicked off her bedroom light switch and heard a voice that made her skin turn to gooseflesh.
“Hello? Mariella?” Joe asked.
She stepped out into the hall. He was holding an enormous bouquet of fat Black Magic roses—her favorite. The color was the deepest, darkest red, and the petals plush like velvet.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, fighting a smile as he backed her into the bedroom.
“Using that room key you gave me to show a woman that I’m crazy about her.” He bounced his eyebrows.
“You shouldn’t have.” She raised the flowers to her nose and inhaled the heady scent—like a warm summer day. “They’re beautiful.”
“Not half as beautiful as you.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.
Heat flooded her entire body, starting in her chest and creeping to her arms and legs. He was so damn handsome and romantic. And that look in his eyes? It was pure adoration, and she wanted every second she could get of it. He shouldn’t have been making such a declaration of affection. It was simply too dangerous. Still, she loved it. She couldn’t help it. Ever since the day of Harrison’s accident, Joe had been her rock. His presence alone was a comfort, and she’d known him for so long, he was one of the few people in her life she could allow to see the real her, the vulnerable Mariella, the woman with wants and needs.
“Well, thank you. They’ve lovely. Absolutely lovely.” She watched as he gently set the flowers on the bureau. “I wish I had time to admire them. Or admire you.” She eyed him from head to toe. Tall and distinguished in an impeccably tailored black tux, Joe was everything a woman could want. Both his physique and his demeanor were solid. Dependable. She longed to be in his arms right now, to take off that bow tie and show him how much she appreciated not only the flowers, but everything he did for her. Unfortunately, there was a war going on inside her, and it had become much more difficult to bear. The hospital had called an hour ago and said that Harrison was stirring again. It could be a sign that he would finally come out of the coma. If he woke up, Mariella would have to drop handsome, sweet, caring Joe like a lead balloon.
And to think, she’d convinced herself at the beginning that sex with Joe was nothing more than seeking comfort from a dear friend. Looking at Joe now, seeing the way his expression softened when he looked at her, she knew that things had changed. Joe was so much better than some passing thing. So good that she didn’t want to let him go. She’d known it from the instant her sister, Ana, put her paws on him last night. She’d almost lost her mind. She could admit it. She had been jealous, with a white-hot rage inside her that she knew would return if Ana dared to cross that line again. Joe might insist he had no interest in Ana, but Mariella would never take that chance. She’d slap back Ana�
�s hands again if she had to.
“I have to tell you something,” she muttered as Joe took her into his arms, his citrusy cologne clouding her judgment. “I’ve heard from the doctors. Harrison has been stirring. They think he might regain consciousness soon.”
“That’s good news. That’s what we’ve been waiting for.” He nodded slowly, peering into her eyes in a way that no man ever had, as if he would always understand and she could do no wrong. “How are you feeling about it?”
“As conflicted as I have ever been in my entire life. I want him to live through this, I really do. He’s my husband. He’s the father of my children. But...” The words wouldn’t come out. They were lodged deep in her throat. Looking up into Joe’s warm and trusting eyes made it even more difficult to say.
“But what? Tell me, Mariella. Talk to me. You won’t hurt my feelings. I care about you too much.”
“It feels like time is running out on us. I’m not ready for the end.”
A knowing smile slowly rolled across Joe’s tempting lips. “I feel like we’re just getting started. But I have to tell you, I have spent so many years in love with my best friend’s wife. I don’t think you realize how precious every minute with you has already been.”
He reached for her hair, gently combing through the strands above her ear. He trailed his fingers along her jaw, sending goose bumps racing over the surface of her skin. That right there was part of the reason she couldn’t say no to Joe—there was no match for the thrill of something new. He caressed her lower lip with his thumb, lifting her chin. She trembled as he snaked his arm around her waist, tugged her against his firm body.
“I can’t be late for my own party.” Her words held no conviction. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her. She couldn’t imagine walking out of this room without one more taste of Joe. “It won’t look right.”
“You just gave yourself the perfect excuse. It’s your party. You can do whatever the hell you want.”
Her pulse throbbed in her ears as a whirlwind of emotions fought one another—she was ready to chuck every frustration and guilty feeling through the window. She wanted this. She deserved this. She deserved him. Even if it was wrong. “Should we put out the Do Not Disturb sign?”
“I already did.” The look in his eyes was unmistakable. He clutched the back of her neck and claimed her mouth with his, his kiss just as exciting as the first time they’d done this, out by the pool at Casa Cat. There was a lot to be said for being kissed by a man who knew his minutes with her were numbered. His lips were so demanding, she felt like the most desired woman on earth.
He wasted no time, walking her upstairs to the bedroom suite. He dragged down the zipper of her dress, the sound a sweet symphonic prelude to what was about to come. The gown dropped to the floor, a puddle of lace and satin, leaving her before him in a black bustier, skimpy panties and thigh-high stockings. He wrestled off his tux jacket and flung it over the armchair. Her fingers scrambled to make quick work of the bow tie and his shirt buttons. She was again in his arms, and they turned in a circle until he sat on the edge of the bed. His hands traveled down her back, cupping her ass, his strong fingers digging into her skin.
She straddled his lap, her knees on the mattress, grinding against his erection. A groan left the depths of his throat as they fell into another reckless but endlessly satisfying kiss. Mariella felt as though she was on fire. Every inch of her burned for Joe. She needed him to touch her. She needed him inside her. There were too many clothes between them.
She stood back up and dropped to her knees. Joe sat back, elbows on the bed, watching as she unhooked his belt, unzipped his pants and dragged them down his legs, along with his boxers. He was perfectly primed for her, rock hard and ready. She leaned in and took him in her hand, their gazes connecting as she dragged her tongue from base to tip. The gasp that left Joe’s mouth was one of utter ecstasy, and she loved knowing that she could please him so greatly. She drew the smooth head between her lips, sucking, taking as much of his cock into her mouth as she could. She returned to the top, creating suction and driving Joe crazy in the process. She swirled her tongue, then dragged it back and forth along the ultra-sensitive ridge. The sounds he made, the groaning affirmations, told her that she was doing exactly what he wanted. There was a lot of womanly pride wrapped up in giving a good blow job.
“I have to have you, Mariella. If this is our last time together, I want to come inside you.”
Heat flooded her cheeks and washed over her shoulders. Electricity zipped along her spine. “Good. Because I want you to fuck me.” Her choice of words surprised even her. She might be demonstrative in her everyday life, but she usually left the dirty talk to the man. Joe brought out sides of her she’d never known existed.
She rose to her feet and kicked off one of her shoes.
“No. They stay on,” Joe said. It wasn’t a request. It was a demand, and he was stern about it. “And the stockings.”
She held her finger to her lips. “Be quick. We don’t have much time.”
“You are so damn sexy when you’re bossy. And we’re fine.”
He was right. She had no reason to worry. “Whatever you want,” she purred, slipping her foot back into the sky-high black pump. She was fairly certain she’d never, ever said those three words to a man.
“If you’re taking requests, I want to watch you take off that bustier. Then your panties. Slowly.”
She bit down on her lower lip so hard she nearly broke the skin. Who knew Joe had such a sexy, naughty side? His eyes were all over her as she began to unhook her bustier, starting at her waist and moving north. She wasn’t about to show him the best part right away. His eyelids became heavy, his expression one of pure lust, as each hook came undone. When she reached the top of her rib cage, she tilted forward and drank in every flicker in his eyes as she revealed her breasts to him.
She cast aside the garment and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, wagging her hips back and forth as she shimmied them down to the floor. Joe bolted upright and pulled her to him, unsubtly flipping her down onto the mattress. She lay before him in nothing more than her stockings and her shoes, as his eyes raked over the length of her body. He descended on her, his mouth zeroing in on her breasts, licking her nipples and flicking at the tight skin. He kissed down the center of her body and urged her thighs wider. He plunged a finger inside her, curling it into her G-spot then settling his thumb against her apex and rolling in tiny circles. She greatly appreciated a man with experience, who didn’t have to guess as to what made a woman happy—a man who knew how to send her over the edge into blissful oblivion.
He pressed delicate kisses against her stomach as she dug her fingers into his thick hair. She did everything she could to drive all logical thought from her mind. Being rational would only take away from the beauty of this time with Joe. His mouth traveled up the length of her torso, soft and gentle but intense. Serious. He gazed into her eyes as he positioned himself at her entrance, and he kissed her as he sank down inside her. Mariella wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer. Joe rocked his pelvis and hips in a way that nearly made her eyes roll up into the back of her head. She palmed the sides of his face, committing every contour to memory, knowing this might be the last time they could be like this, as one.
The tension was building like gasoline had just been tossed on the fire—her peak arrived, then ebbed, then roared back into full flame. Everything around her except Joe faded into oblivion. His whole body was tense, a solid wall of muscle, then he went even more rigid, his eyes closed, and he drew in a deep breath through his mouth. When his pleasure faded, he collapsed next to her and pulled her close, burying his face in her neck and kissing her dozens of times.
Mariella rarely cried, but her eyes stung right now as she realized what had happened, what she had done. She had done the unthinkable. She had fallen head over hee
ls in love with her husband’s best friend.
* * *
Gabe opened the door to his suite, only to see Joe at the end of the hall, at Mariella’s door with a bouquet of roses in his hand. What the hell?
Gabe quickly slipped back inside his suite. There was only one reason a man showed up at a woman’s door with red roses. Gabe had to stop whatever was about to happen. He dialed Mariella’s number. It went straight to voicemail.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. He considered calling Joe, but he didn’t want to be too obvious. He opened his door slightly, willing Joe to walk out. But nothing happened. He kept the door cracked and watched the time on his phone. He’d wait fifteen minutes. Hopefully Joe would leave Mariella’s room before then and Gabe wouldn’t have to investigate.
The minutes evaporated quickly, and unfortunately, Joe never came down the hall. Gabe waited another fifteen minutes just to be safe, but he knew what he had to do. That hotel master key was right in his pocket, ready for him to use on Vanessa’s door. Information was everything right now, and Gabe had to know if there was something going on between Mariella and Joe, or if he had just become hopelessly paranoid.
He stepped out into the hall and walked with purpose down to Mariella’s door. Hanging on the knob was the Do Not Disturb placard. Dammit. He knocked three times and counted to ten. No answer. He slid the master room key into the slot, the green light came on, and he turned the handle with great care.
He flipped the privacy guard on the door to keep it ajar. If either Joe or Mariella emerged, he would simply say he was concerned that Mariella was late and had come to make sure everything was all right. It only took a moment before he heard their voices. With every word overheard, his stomach sank a little lower. Disappointment pressed down on him.
