The Bloodstained Bride

by Rachel Woods

  True, he had a good reason, and was well within his rights, to begrudge Derek, but nursing a grudge was time-consuming. Leo refused to waste time on an asshole like Derek. Besides, it wasn’t like he hated the guy. He just didn’t want to have anything to do with Derek.

  When he thought about it, Leo realized he was apathetic about Derek. Before Burt had questioned him about hearing from Derek, Leo hadn’t thought about the guy in years. If Derek hadn’t decided to get married in St. Killian on Burt’s private beach, Leo might have gone the rest of his life never giving Derek Hennessy a second thought.

  Unfortunately, Derek was getting married in St. Killian on Burt’s private beach and, through no fault of his own, Leo was in the wedding, having been forced to participate.

  His reluctant agreement to be Derek’s best man required him to attend wedding rehearsals, which was the only reason why he was walking along the beach during the hottest part of the day. According to the wedding schedule, emailed to him yesterday by Melanie, who was also Besi’s personal assistant, there would be four rehearsals before the wedding, which would take place in four days, on Saturday.

  Several yards ahead, the scene could only be described as barely controlled chaos. As the sound of pounding waves mixed with the hammering of nails into wood, four wedding coordinators scurried about, clipboards in hand, wearing headsets, and barking into smartphones. One of the coordinators seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion with the foreman in charge of the construction crew tasked with building the raised dais and the pergola where Derek and Besi would stand beneath to say their vows. Another coordinator dealt with more than a dozen workers who held white wooden lawn chairs beneath their arms. The remaining two coordinators directed a four-person beach cleaning crew, pointing and gesturing their frantic directions.

  Groaning, Leo forced himself to keep walking though he wanted to turn around and run for his life.

  “Leo!” called Tom, beckoning him. “Over here!”

  Heading toward a cluster of tall Queen palm trees, Leo waved to his fellow groomsmen, Tom, Zeke, and Jacob, who looked as frustrated and irritated as Leo felt. A few yards beyond the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, Kelsea, Winnie, and Melanie, stood in the shade of several large, leafy seagrape trees, ignoring each other, wilting in the harsh sub-tropical environment.

  “Sorry I’m late,” said Leo. “Had a last minute conference call with the Bronson Publishing legal department this morning.”

  “Don’t worry about it, man, you’re okay,” said Tom, leaning against the trunk of a palm tree as he donned dark sunglasses. “Derek and Besi haven’t come down yet.”

  “We haven’t seen them all morning,” said Zeke, hands shoved into the pockets of his Bermuda shorts. “They weren’t at breakfast.”

  “This is bullshit,” exclaimed Jacob, his face flushed as red as a lobster. “We’ve been out here for an hour roasting in this hot ass sun while Derek and Besi are doing who knows what! Why the hell did I even agree to be in this wedding?”

  “I was asking myself the same thing,” said Zeke. “I don’t even like Derek or Besi. He’s a douche, and she’s a bitch.”

  “Besi’s not a bitch,” said Tom, a subtle warning in his tone. “Don’t call her that again.”

  Sneering Zeke said, “Sorry. Didn’t realize you were Team Besi.”

  Chuckling, Jacob said, “Tommy jumped off Derek’s bandwagon when Derek demoted him from best man to lowly groomsman.”

  “About that,” said Leo, staring at Tom. “Trust me; it was not my idea to be Derek’s best man. When he asked me, I was going to tell him, no, but my wife—”

  “No worries,” said Tom, his tone curt as he cut Leo off. “I didn’t exactly jump for joy when Derek asked me.”

  Glancing at Tom, Leo said nothing. Was he really okay with Derek’s decision to replace him as the best man? The sunglasses made it impossible for Leo to read his expression.

  Leo decided to drop the subject, and instead asked, “You guys enjoying the accommodations at Casa Bronson?”

  As the groomsmen opined about their stay at Burt’s mansion, thus far, comparing it to a seven-star luxury hotel, Leo noticed Melanie walking away from Kelsea and Winnie. Staying near the line of seagrape trees, Melanie made her way to the palm trees flanking the wooden stairs that led to the path back to the mansion.

  Maybe Melanie had decided to go up to the house and find out what was keeping Besi and Derek. Wondering why no one else in the wedding party had thought of the idea sooner, Leo decided he would head up to the house to debrief his dad about the conference with the legal team. After talking to Burt, he would head back to the beach with Melanie, Derek, and Besi.

  Leo told the groomsmen his plans and then headed toward the wooden steps.

  5

  Minutes later, back at the mansion, Leo found Lemuel Shaw, the house manager, giving instructions to one of the gardeners.

  “How are you doing, Mr. Leo?” asked Lemuel, after the gardener walked away.

  “I’ll be a lot better once this wedding is over, Lemmie, that’s for sure,” said Leo, using the house manager’s nickname. “But, how about you? Life treating you okay?”

  “Can’t complain, Mr. Leo,” said Lemuel. “Can’t complain.”

  “My dad around?” asked Leo.

  “In his office, I imagine,” said Lemuel, and then excused himself as he headed off.

  Leo headed down the hall toward his father’s office. Approaching the double doors, which were opened slightly, he slowed his steps, frowning as voices floated into the hallway. Male voices, neither of which was his father’s booming baritone. Stopping near the doors, Leo listened.

  “ … that’s a lot of money …”

  Derek’s voice, Leo realized, recognizing the pompous, self-important tone.

  “Who the hell is this asshole, anyway?” Derek asked.

  “Still working on finding out more about him,” said the male voice Leo didn’t recognize, a gravelly East Coast growl. “But who he is don’t matter. What matters is—”

  “What matters is that you take care of this bullshit!” said Derek.

  Leo frowned. What the hell was going on? What was Derek talking about?

  “What do you think I’m doing?” the East Coast guy asked. “Why do you think I’m here? To work on my fucking tan? I’m in paradise, and I can’t even enjoy it because I gotta deal with your shit. Which I’m handling. So, you need to relax.”

  “How the hell can I relax?” said Derek. “This shit could blow up in my face. I could lose everything!”

  “You let me take care of it,” said the East Coast guy. “You ain’t gonna lose nothing.”

  “You better make this shit go away, Skip,” said Derek. “Do whatever you need to do.”

  Skip? The name didn’t sound familiar to Leo. He didn’t recall meeting or ever hearing about any friend or associate of Derek’s named Skip.

  “Trust me,” said Skip. “I will. Ain’t that what you pay me for? I’m gonna make all your problems disappear.”

  Spurred by the need to find out what the hell was going on, Leo opened the doors and stepped into his father’s office.

  “What are you doing in here, Derek?” Leo asked.

  Jumping slightly, Derek faced Leo.

  Eyes widened, and face flushed red, Derek said, “Leo, uh, sorry I was just …”

  “Just what?” asked Leo, crossing his arms as he glanced at the East Coast guy, who was short and stocky, with an olive complexion and close-cropped oily black hair.

  “The whole wedding party is down on the beach waiting for your sorry ass,” said Leo. “You plan on coming to rehearsals, or what?”

  “Forgive me, it’s my fault Derek is late for rehearsals,” said the East Coast guy.

  Leo stared at him. “And you are?”

  The East Coast guy walked to Leo and extended his hand. “Skip Taylor.”

  “Leo Bronson,” said Leo, pumping Taylor’s hand, trying to remember if he’d ever met the guy, or s
een him before.

  “I wanted to tell Derek that I won’t be able to make the ceremony, after all, but I appreciated the invitation,” said the East Coast guy. “Me and him got close when he was put in charge of my investment portfolio before he left Hennessy Capital.”

  “Is that so?” asked Leo, skeptical of the guy’s claims considering what he’d overheard.

  Derek nodded, his eyes darting from Leo to the East Coast guy.

  “Well, I gotta head to the airport. Got an emergency back in New York that needs my urgent and utmost attention,” said the guy before he turned to Derek. “Mr. Hennessy, congratulations to you! I wish you much happiness and marital bliss with your new bride.”

  “Uh, thanks,” stammered Derek.

  After Skip Taylor left the room, Derek said, “Okay, so let’s head down to the beach. I’ve kept everybody waiting long enough.”

  Arms crossed over his chest, Leo regarded Derek. “What was that really about?”

  Blinking, Derek said, “He was giving me his regrets that he wouldn’t be able to stay for the ceremony.”

  “You sure that’s all it was?” asked Leo.

  Derek glared at him. “What the fuck else would it be, Leo?”

  Shrugging, Leo said, “Your conversation seemed a bit intense. You sure everything’s okay?”

  “You heard our conversation? What the hell?” Derek shook his head, nostrils flaring. “You eavesdropping?”

  Leo shook his head. “Wasn’t like that. I was just—”

  “I get that you’re a big-time journalist and used to snooping around and poking your nose into shit,” said Derek, stepping closer to Leo, inches away from invading his personal space. “But, there is no story with me and Skip.”

  Skeptical, Leo asked, “What is this problem you have that Skip is going to make disappear?”

  His chin jutted forward, tone defensive, Derek said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Annoyed by Derek’s unrelenting evasiveness, Leo said, “I’m talking about the shit you said could blow up in your face if Skip Taylor doesn’t take care of it. What’s that about?”

  Looking away, Derek said, “You must not have heard me correctly.”

  “My hearing is just fine,” countered Leo. “And Skip Taylor said—”

  “I need to get to the rehearsals,” grumbled Derek, and shoulder-checked Leo as he stalked out of Burt’s office.

  6

  “Tell me again why we have to make love in the woods?” asked Vivian.

  “This isn’t the woods,” said Leo, spreading a blanket over a clearing of dirt surrounded by palm trees. “It’s the tropical jungle. And I thought we should spice things up with a change of location.”

  Swatting her hand at a sand flea hovering around her nose, Vivian frowned. When Leo suggested an afternoon quickie, she’d imagined bending over her desk, not a jaunt through the rainforest behind her father-in-law’s vast estate.

  “C’mon, Mrs. Bronson, it’ll be fun,” said Leo, taking her hands. Pulling her close, he kissed her lips before trailing his mouth down the side of her cheek to her neck. “And dirty and nasty.”

  “Yeah, that’s what worries me, Mr. Bronson,” said Vivian. “All this nasty dirt all over the ground. Dirt that could get all in my hoohaa.”

  “All in your hoohaa?” Leo gave her a sexy smile. “Hmmm … that sounds like where I want to be right now.”

  Circling her arms around Leo, intoxicated by his intense gaze, Vivian said, “That’s exactly where I want you to be right now, too, but …”

  “But?”

  Vivian exhaled. “Can’t we go up to our room?”

  Leo shook his head. “I was trying to avoid the mansion, especially since my father insists that we move in.”

  “Only temporarily,” said Vivian, recalling Burt’s subtle demand last night after dinner. Her father-in-law had informed them that they should stay at the mansion with the other members of the wedding party, much to Leo’s chagrin. “Just until the wedding is over and then we can go back to the condo.”

  “But, it doesn’t make sense that we have to stay at the mansion,” Leo said. “I’m sick of my father always imposing his iron will, trying to run my life.”

  Entranced by the powerful swirling between her legs, Vivian stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck. “How about you forget about your father and impose your iron will on me instead, hmmm?”

  Bending his head, Leo kissed her.

  Vivian parted her lips, moaning as her husband’s tongue whipped and swirled around inside her mouth. As his hand slipped beneath the hem of her short, flouncy skirt and then trailed up the inside of her thigh, she throbbed in anticipation of what she knew was coming, what she was craving and had to have—Leo inside her.

  Leo’s fingers tugged at the crotch of her lace panties, so determined that the fabric ripped, but Vivian didn’t care. Because now he had access.

  Seconds later, Leo eased her down onto the top of the blanket.

  Gasping, Vivian stared at the palm fronds swaying in the breeze as Leo entered her, slowly, deliberately, inch by inch. Shuddering, she raised her hips, desperate to be filled completely. Leo grabbed one of her legs, wrapped it around his waist and quickly began thrusting in and out of her. His rhythm was frantic and frenzied, with deep strokes that hypnotized her. Each thrust caused a tremor deep within her, making it impossible for her to stop convulsing—or even think straight. As her husband made love to her with abandon, a delicious delirium came over Vivian as she trembled and bucked against him.

  Part of Vivian thought it was crazy to be making love to him in the middle of the rainforest, but she couldn’t help herself. Each time Leo kissed her or touched her, it was like something possessed Vivian, and all she wanted to do was give herself to him, in any way he wanted to have her.

  After Vivian had exploded more times than she could count, they lay beneath the palm trees, exhausted and satisfied, trying to breathe.

  “You know what, Mr. Bronson,” said Vivian, maneuvering onto her side to face her husband.

  “What’s that, Mrs. Bronson?” asked Leo, smiling as he positioned himself to face her.

  “I’m so glad you convinced me to have sex in the tropical jungle.”

  Leo laughed. “I thought you would like it.”

  Sighing, Vivian rolled onto her back and then sat up. “But, as fantastic as it was, we probably need to get back to work.”

  “Aw, do we have to?” Leo grumbled.

  “Yes, we have to,” said Vivian. “So, put your pants back on.”

  Leo grumbled as he reached for the boxer briefs he’d discarded. “You know, I was thinking.”

  “Thinking what?” asked Vivian, grabbing the panties Leo had ruined.

  “Maybe staying at the mansion isn’t such a bad idea,” said Leo. “I can find out what’s going on with Derek.”

  “Something’s going on with Derek?” Vivian rose to her knees and smoothed her skirt down.

  Leo filled her in about the heated discussion between Derek and Skip Taylor, and then said, “So, now I’m wondering, what is this problem Derek has that Skip promised to make disappear?”

  “Maybe you should ask Derek,” suggested Vivian, rising to her feet.

  Folding his arms across his chest, Leo said, “I would if I thought he would tell me the truth.”

  “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think,” said Vivian.

  “Babe, Derek said that the problem could blow up in his face,” said Leo. “It could cause him to lose everything. So, you’re right. It’s not as bad as I think. Most likely, it’s probably worse than I could ever imagine.”

  7

  With an oversized plush towel wrapped around his waist, Leo stood in the spacious closet of the guest room where he and Viv were staying.

  Two hours ago, after they’d indulged in another round of sex in the shower, Vivian had headed to the Palmchat Gazette. Leo should have gone with her, but Burt had other plans for him. An afterno
on meeting with a group of ad execs which would take place at The Pink Sand Club.

  Exhaling his frustration, he stared at the clothes he’d decided to have brought over from the condo he and his wife shared in Adagio Bay, an affluent enclave more than an hour away from Montmarch.

  Not surprisingly, he’d forgotten to bring a suit.

  And, of course, The Pink Sand Club, an elitist, upper-crust establishment, required a jacket for dining, even during lunch.

  Shaking his head, Leo wondered if he would have time to drive to Adagio Bay to get a suit for the meeting, which was scheduled for—

  A door slammed.

  Leo started. What the hell? Was someone in his room? One of the maids, maybe? Leo headed out of the closet and into the hall that led back to the bedroom.

  “What do you want from me?”

  Leo stopped short. That sounded like Besi’s voice.

  “What’s happened to you?” a guy asked.

  “What do you mean, what’s happened to me?” Besi said. “Nothing has happened to me.”

  Inching down the short hallway, listening, Leo stayed close to the wall. Who the hell was in his room?

  “What’s up with that cheap trinket you’ve been wearing?”

  Tom York, realized Leo, suddenly recognizing the male voice.

  “It’s not a cheap trinket,” said Besi.

  “Did Derek give that to you?” asked Tom. “I’m not surprised that’s all he can afford.”

  Besi said, “My mother gave this to me.”

  “Oh, God, Besi, I’m sorry,” said Tom, his tone contrite. “I didn’t know—”

  “Go to hell,” Besi said.

  “Did you just tell me to go to hell?” Tom scoffed. “What is your problem?”

  “What is my problem?”

  “You’ve changed.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Besi. “The only thing I changed was my nose.”

  “We haven’t been together since you got back from the Aerie Islands.”

  Besi said, “Because I’m getting married.”

  “Why are you acting like you don’t know, or don’t remember, or don’t care, how much we mean to each other?”