Marriage, Bravo Style!

by Christine Rimmer

  He thought she looked a little bit lost, suddenly. And the need to touch her got the better of him. He reached for her hand, twined his fingers between her slim, soft ones. “Don’t be sad,” he whispered. “Think of Caleb. Can you imagine your life now without Caleb? I know he couldn’t get along without you.”

  She almost smiled. “Yeah. It’s funny. We grew close really fast, right after we found out the truth. And you’re right. It’s like he’s always been my brother, somehow…”

  The brother in question was sitting with Irina a few feet away. Were his ears burning? Maybe. When they both turned to look at him, Caleb stared back, one eyebrow lifted.

  And Rogan was still holding Elena’s hand.

  Seriously, he needed to get a grip. What about all those promises he’d made himself, the ones about how he would stay the hell away from her?

  And yet here he was, his head bent close to hers, drinking in the scent of her, hanging on her every word, fingers woven with hers.

  He should let go. But he didn’t.

  A couple of minutes later, she did it for him. Gently, she eased her hand away, a slight smile curving her beautiful mouth, a blush on her cheeks.

  The egg hunt wound down. Then Luke suggested a walk out to the stables. He raised horses on the ranch.

  The men agreed to go with him, and the women, taking the children, headed for the kitchen to start pulling the meal together. Rogan gathered what little sanity remained to him and went with the men.

  But later, at dinnertime, he caught up with Elena again. They sat together. He took great care not to touch her, not even in passing, not to lean too close. Somehow, he succeeded in getting through the meal without putting his hands on her.

  After dinner, everyone helped clear the table. They took a break before dessert. Some wandered into the big living room, some of them chose the game room, which had a pool table and cabinets full of board games. Others went out in back again to sit by the pool or under the trees.

  Elena stayed with Mercy, Mary Bravo and Irina in the kitchen. Rogan headed for the game room and played pool with Caleb for a while. Surprisingly, his friend said nothing about the way he’d been hanging all over Elena—sitting beside her at dinner and holding her hand during the egg hunt. Rogan was grateful for Caleb’s silence on the subject. Again, he promised himself to show restraint from now on.

  That promise lasted about an hour and a half. Until they all returned to the formal dining room for coffee, coconut cake and homemade ice cream.

  Elena had saved a chair for him. What could he do but sit beside her, get lost in her eyes, drown in her laughter, become drunk on the scent of her skin?

  After dessert, the two of them went into the living room together. They sat close on one of the long sofas there. By the time everyone started making time-to-go-home noises, he had more or less accepted that he really needed to stop lying to himself, stop making himself promises he was not going to keep.

  He liked Elena. A lot. And she clearly liked him. She was twenty-five years old. All grown-up. If he wanted to be with her and she wanted to be with him, well, why not? There was no need to make a big deal out of something so simple.

  If it went beyond this dizzying attraction, beyond friendship, well, he would be honest with her. He would tell her he wasn’t up for anything permanent, that they could enjoy each other’s company while he was in town.

  And that would be it.

  Then she could make her own choice about where to take it from there.

  It all sounded very mature and logical. He congratulated himself on coming to such a realistic solution to the problem that had seemed so unworkable, but really wasn’t.

  However, by the time he accepted that he was going to ask her out, she had left him, promising to be right back. He had no idea where, exactly, she’d gone. And then Caleb came over and said they should be going soon.

  Rogan really wanted to see her before they left—even though it would be easy to get her number from Caleb and take it from there. He started toward the back of the house, thinking she might be in the kitchen with her sister. But in there, he found only the two women Mercy had hired to help with the party. They were busy cleaning up. He headed down the hallway toward the game room and the sun room farther on.

  There were six doors lining that hallway, three on either side. Two on the left were side doors into the formal and family living areas. One on the right led to an office, one to a library. The last door on the left was shut. But the final door on the right was open.

  And he heard Elena’s voice from inside, the sound tight, strictly controlled. “This is not necessary. Really. I would prefer just to leave it alone.”

  “Elena. You’re my daughter.” A man’s voice. Deep. Mature. Commanding. Rogan didn’t need to be a psychic to know who that man was: Davis Bravo.

  Chapter Four

  The deep voice from inside the room continued, “I only hope to know you better. I care about your welfare, and your…happiness.”

  “Then there’s no problem.” Elena was making a valiant effort to keep it cool. Rogan could hear that effort in every strung-tight word she said. “Honestly. I’m doing well. I’m perfectly happy.”

  “Please,” Davis said, “The trust is yours, no strings.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “It’s there for you, no matter what. At least visit my estate planners, let them explain—”

  “No. Please.”

  “All right. Never mind the money for now. But maybe we could try meeting for coffee, just the two of us, for an hour. Just to—”

  “Look.” She cut him off a second time. “I’ll, um… I’ll think about it. Okay? And I really have to get going now.”

  “Elena…”

  “No. It’s enough. Seriously. I need to go. Bye now.” She came flying out that door. And straight into Rogan’s arms. “Oh!” She landed against his chest and gaped up at him. “Rogan!” She jumped back.

  “Hey. Steady.” He resisted the need to pull her close again.

  She put her hand to her hair, smoothed the front of her dress. “What are you doing here?”

  “We’re getting ready to go. I wanted to say goodbye.”

  Right then, Davis emerged from the room behind her. He looked every bit as imposing as he sounded, a tall, broad-shouldered man with thick silver hair. He turned his ice-green eyes on Rogan. “Get an earful?” His tone made it painfully clear that it wasn’t wise to mess with Davis Bravo.

  Elena leapt to Rogan’s defense, stepping close to him again. “He was just looking for me, Davis. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I had a really good time today.” Rogan offered his hand to the older man. “Thanks.”

  Apparently, Davis wanted Elena’s goodwill more than he wanted to put Rogan in his place. He dropped the aggressive attitude. “Well, I’m glad.” He took Rogan’s hand, gave it a single firm shake. “But don’t thank me. Thank Elena’s sister. Mercy put it all together, with a little help from my wife.”

  “Well, it was great.”

  Davis granted him a regal nod before turning his cool green gaze on Elena again. “Consider what I said?”

  “Yes,” she answered reluctantly, not quite meeting his eyes. “All right.”

  Davis left them, striding back down the hall and disappearing through the door to the formal living room.

  The moment he was out of sight, Rogan took Elena’s hand. “Come on.”

  She hung back. “What? Where?”

  “Hell if I know. Somewhere we can get a little privacy.”

  “Oh, Rogan…” But she let him pull her along back down the hall. He chose the office, which was more of a study, really, with a heavily carved mahogany desk and bookshelves lining the walls.

  Once he pulled her in there, he swung the door shut and braced a hand against it.

  She laughed. “Rogan, what are you up to now?”

  “Are you okay?”

  She looked at him sideways. “How much did you hear?” />
  He shrugged. “Enough. You have a trust fund you won’t touch. And you don’t want to meet your bio-dad for coffee.”

  She groaned. “My bio-dad? You make him sound like hazardous waste or something.”

  “Well, you have to admit, that’s pretty much how you treat him.”

  She tried to look disapproving. “It’s rude to eavesdrop on people.”

  “I know. I shouldn’t have done it. If my mom were still alive, she’d be very disappointed in me.”

  “So why did you?”

  Because I’m interested in you, way too interested. And that means I’m interested in anything that concerns you. “Have dinner with me. Tomorrow night?”

  She didn’t even pretend to think it over. “Yes.” Her eyes gleamed golden in the light from the desk lamp. He wanted her. Bad. He wished he wasn’t staying at Caleb’s, wished he could take her somewhere tonight. Someplace where there was no possibility that they might be interrupted. She accused, “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Because I don’t have an answer,” he lied. “Other than that I was looking for you, heard you talking and got curious as to what was going on in there.”

  “It was none of your business.”

  “I plead guilty. And how about if I promise never to do it again?”

  She folded her arms across her middle. “I don’t know. Do you keep your promises?”

  “Always.” Except for the ones I keep making to myself about staying away from you.

  She let her arms relax. “Well, all right then. As long as you never spy on me again, you’re forgiven.” She started to turn away, toward the desk.

  He reached out, grabbed her hand again, and pulled her close to him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To get a pencil and a piece of paper.” She put both hands against his chest. They felt really good there. “You know, to write down my address and phone number?”

  “In a minute.”

  “Rogan…” She said his name as a warning. But not a very convincing one. He touched her hair. Warm silk.

  And then he went farther. He ran the back of his finger along her cheek. She felt as good as she looked. Maybe even better. And the way she watched him, with a sort of rapt expression, her eyes wide and willing, her mouth slightly parted…it was a look of pure invitation.

  An invitation to a kiss.

  He reminded himself to speak. “How about if I pick you up at seven?”

  “Seven works.”

  He let his finger stray downward, to trace the clean, pure line of her jaw, and lower still. He caressed the side of her neck.

  She swayed closer, caught herself, pulled back again, though she remained in the circle of his arms. “This is Luke’s office,” she whispered.

  “Very nice.” He was looking only at her. He lowered his head.

  She tipped her head slightly, enough that he couldn’t capture her mouth. “There is no kissing in Luke’s office.”

  “Says who?”

  She frowned. “Well, I don’t know. Somehow, it just seems…inappropriate.”

  “Elena.” He really liked the sound of her name and he couldn’t get over the way it felt on his tongue, a gentle curving of sound. “Trust me. Luke won’t mind.”

  She swayed a fraction closer again. “Well, if you’re sure…”

  “I have never been more certain about anything.”

  “Ah.”

  “Ah, what?”

  “Ah, I suppose you’d better kiss me, after all.” Her breath smelled so sweet, like apples flavored slightly with coffee and coconut.

  He took her mouth. Gently. With slow deliberation, he rubbed his lips back and forth across hers in a light, teasing little kiss that nonetheless felt as though it was striking sparks.

  “Be careful,” she warned on a breath, her lips moving against his.

  He caught her lower lip between his teeth, so lightly, touched the silky plumpness with his tongue. She shuddered a little, surrendering. Only then did he let go. “Careful of what?”

  “Everything. Nothing. Oh, Rogan. I don’t know….”

  He settled his mouth more firmly on hers. Never mind about being careful. Never mind about anything.

  There was nothing but this. Elena. Here. Now. Held close in his arms.

  Closer. He wrapped his arms tighter around her.

  She sighed and opened to him, tasting of flowers and coconut, of everything sweet.

  And hot. And wet…

  He eased his tongue inside, scraping it slowly along the edges of her teeth. She made a low, receptive sound.

  He answered with a groan and ran his tongue over hers—over, around. And under.

  When he retreated, she followed—a little shy, but definitely willing.

  The scent of her intoxicated him and the feel of her made him forget all those promises he’d made, the ones about her, the ones he hadn’t been keeping anyway. He could go on and on like this, his arms around her, her body warm and eager, her breasts so full and soft, pressed against him. He loved the feel of her hands on him—one curled around his nape, shyly ruffling his hair, the other on his shoulder, clutching him to her.

  But then she put both hands against his chest again. She exerted a very slight pressure.

  He got the message and lifted his head.

  She gazed up at him, dreamy-eyed. “You make me feel…” She sighed. “So good.”

  He couldn’t resist. He kissed her some more. He never wanted to stop.

  But even drunk on her kisses, he didn’t completely forget himself. They were at her family’s ranch, in her half brother’s study. And soon enough, Caleb would come looking for him.

  It really was time to go.

  With slow reluctance, he raised his head. “Tomorrow,” he said, reminding himself as much as her. Tomorrow, after all, wasn’t that far away. It only seemed like a lifetime when he thought how he wouldn’t see her until then. Until hours and hours from now.

  Seriously. He was getting way out of control about her.

  Still holding his gaze, smiling a little, so that dimple of hers just barely tucked its tempting shadow into her cheek, she reached behind her, took both his wrists and peeled them away. She stepped back, turned and went to the desk.

  Crossing around behind it, she pulled open the pencil drawer, took out a pen and wrote on the small notepad that sat waiting next to the computer monitor. She tore off the page, put the pen away and returned to him.

  He held out his hand. She put the little square of paper in the center of his palm and closed his fingers over it. “Seven.”

  “Seven.”

  They stared at each other. Eventually, she advised, “You have to move away from the door now.”

  “I was afraid you would say that.”

  She let go of his hand and stepped back, giving him room to turn and pull open the door. He held it wide. She went through and on down the hall. He didn’t follow. He waited until she turned for the kitchen, before he started for the door that led to the living room.

  Caleb dropped in at Rogan’s room after Irina went to bed. “Got a minute?”

  Rogan sent off the last email and shut down his laptop. “Sure.”

  Caleb stayed in the doorway. “So you really like my sister, huh?”

  “Yeah. I do.”

  “You ask her out?”

  “I did. She said yes. Dinner, tomorrow night.”

  “Well, all right. Have a good time.”

  Rogan let out a grunt of laughter. “What? No overprotective big-brother lecture?”

  “What’s the point? You hurt her, you’re dead. But I feel confident that you know that already.” He glanced down at the floor and then up again. “Just kidding.”

  “Yeah. Right.” Rogan considered telling his friend about the conversation he’d overheard between Elena and Davis. But no. If either of them wanted Caleb to know about it, they would tell him themselves. And maybe Caleb already did know.

  As Elena had so clearly informed
him, it was none of Rogan’s business.

  Now Caleb looked sheepish. “Don’t tell her I said that—about your death, I mean. She would kick my ass for butting in.”

  “Don’t worry. Your death threats can be our secret.”

  Caleb frowned. “Did I say I was kidding?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t believe a word I say.”

  The phone was ringing when Elena let herself in the door of her condo. She went to the living room to get it. The display read: Mercy. Of course.

  She picked up and muttered, “What?”

  “You sound surly.”

  “I am surly. What?”

  “It was a big party.” Mercy’s voice was reproachful. “We didn’t get a moment alone.”

  Elena held back a groan. “Sometimes that’s not a bad thing.”

  “Davis said he talked to you. He said he really hopes you’ll think about meeting him for lunch one of these days.”

  “Mercy, you’re getting really overbearing about this. You know that, don’t you?”

  “I only want you to come to some sort of…peace with him.”

  “I’m at peace, okay?”

  “Oh, you are not.”

  “And I really wish you’d quit discussing me with him.”

  “Chica, I’m on your side. I want the best for you. I want everything for you.”

  Elena thought of their father, of his visit that morning. Grudgingly, she told Mercy, “Papi came over this morning. We talked. About a lot of things.” She filled her sister in on the confessions their dad had made.

  “Wow,” said Mercy when she was done. “Papi’s come a long way.”

  “Yeah. He really has. And he…gave me his blessing, if I want to, um, get to know Davis.”

  “That’s good. Really good.”

  “And tonight I told Davis I would think about maybe having coffee with him sometime.”

  “Oh, Elena. I’m so glad.”

  “So can we leave it at that, leave whatever is or isn’t going to happen between me and Davis…between me and Davis?”