by Kaira Rouda
*
Evalyn had scheduled the rehearsal for noon, to beat the afternoon heat, and to assure her sons would not stay up too late partying the night before as she’d told them all during the beach barbeque. But it was still hot and muggy. So there they were, assembled in the front row of white folding chairs, in the too-bright sunshine, grumpy, just trying to make it through and onto the next event. Blake included. He was pretending to listen to what Denton was saying, but was actually tuning everything out.
“Everyone, please, I just need your attention for a brief moment,” screamed the tiny brunette woman standing just outside the gazebo. Between the wind, the waves, and the Putnams, nobody could hear a word she was saying. The Putnams and the wedding party had gathered on the lawn in front of the Melrose Inn, another gorgeous replica of a southern plantation home complete with a rose garden and the white ocean-front gazebo where Avery would be married the next day.
Suddenly a man pulled up in a golf cart. He jumped out of the cart and held a bullhorn up to his lips.
“Hey, y’all listen up. My name is Steve and I’m the general manager of the club. If you need anything, come see me. But not until you give this lady the attention she deserves,” Steve said, finishing his bullhorn aided speech.
“Really, a bullhorn?” Blake said loudly, but was quickly shushed by the rest of the wedding party.
“Let’s just get through this,” Denton mumbled. “My hangover needs to get this whole thing we’re doing now over with.”
Blake smiled, noting his little brother had no idea what he was saying, and then resumed searching the crowd again for Samantha. Sure, she doesn’t have a role in this, he reasoned, but she should at least show up.
She’d excused herself after breakfast, and told him she’d see him at the rehearsal. Once the wedding party had finally settled into the folding chairs arranged on the lawn, Blake could finally see Samantha standing to the side of the gazebo. She looked beautiful, yet all she was wearing were khaki shorts, sandals and a white cotton top. She looked better than any woman here.
Control, he reminded himself, and tried to focus on the wedding planner’s directions. But he couldn’t hear a word the woman was saying. The wind was howling off the sound, carrying her words away with it.
This was torture. All of it. He just needed to get over Samantha. He was thinking about her too much. Last night was a mistake, an alcohol fueled moment that would never happen again. They were a perfect business team. That was all. Well, it wasn’t all, but it needed to be enough.
*
Samantha stood next to the gazebo and she could hear everything, Amy, the wedding planner, was saying. Why didn’t the Putnams just stand up from their seats on the lawn and move closer? she wondered. Spoiled, that’s what they were, all of them.
“Do you need help?” Samantha asked Amy.
Amy was Samantha’s age or younger, a beautiful thin brunette with impossibly large breasts. Trying to garner the attention of all the Putnams seemed to be impossible. They were standing outside, at the edge of a huge seawall, facing the majestic Melrose Plantation, a traditional Southern-style yellow beauty now an Inn and Club for Indigo Island members and guests. The white lattice gazebo would be the backdrop for Avery and Mark’s vows. It was a gorgeous setting, and would be perfect as long as the wind stopped by tomorrow afternoon, Samantha thought.
“I wish they would all come closer,” Amy said.
“Y’all listen up, now!” Steve yelled into the bullhorn. “We’re going to move this rehearsal inside the Inn. Head into the owner’s club and we’ll take it from there.”
Now we decide to move inside, Samantha thought, after every last strand of her hair had been whipped around and tangled by the wind. It had felt good though, being out in this tempest, unable to talk to him. She was so confused. One minute they were brainstorming business, the next staring hungrily at each other, almost unable to speak. She’d nearly kissed him this morning. When he’d walked out of the bathroom with just the towel, she hadn’t been able to breathe.
How was she going to be able to work with all this desire swirling around? It was more than desire, she admitted to herself for the first time. Their kisses last night had been magical, leaving her breathless and wanting more. She had felt things inside, deep inside, sensations that she’d never felt before. She closed her eyes for a moment and turned away from the wedding party who had begun walking across the lawn towards the inn. She needed to keep to the agreement for both of them. She needed her job far more than she needed a man.
But still, if she closed her eyes and ran her tongue over her lips, she could taste him, feel his breath on her cheek. She needed to stop daydreaming. He was her boss. She wasn’t allowed to think anything more about him, no matter how handsome he was.
Ten
Samantha was excited about the rehearsal dinner, mostly because of the dress she’d selected – or rather Blake had selected with Raymond for her – to wear. She loved the way the bright blue silk cocktail dress made her eyes look a more intense, Pacific Ocean blue. The lace and silk gown fit her perfectly, like an extra layer of skin. Raymond had exclaimed that it was made for her. Samantha had never worn a dress this expensive, this stunning before. This dress will give me the confidence to play my role, Samantha told herself.
Standing in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom of her suite, she spun around and admired the back of the dress, cut to show much of her back. She was checking herself out in the mirror as Blake barged through the door.
“Oh God, sorry,” he stammered, backing up quickly. “The door was open. I thought you were downstairs already.”
“My fault,” Samantha said, quickly. “I was just finishing up.”
Blake had returned from a round of golf, Samantha realized. He smelled like sweat and grass and ocean spray. She felt her heart leap, despite her lectures to herself. If he were really her boyfriend, she could walk across the room and press her body against him.
“You look gorgeous,” Blake said, his eyes locked with hers.
“Thank you,” Samantha said, a blush working its way up her neck.
“About last night –” they both said, in unison, and started laughing.
“Blake, listen, that kiss, I can’t stop thinking about it,” Samantha said. “But I know this is for work. I’m ok faking it, it’s just that, well, I feel something, I feel a lot of things when I’m with you.”
“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” Blake said and entered the room and closed the door behind him.
Samantha walked toward him slowly. This was crazy, wasn’t it? He couldn’t possibly be interested in her more than an employee or maybe someone to mess around with for a convenient weekend. He was Blake Putnam and she was Samantha Jones.
Blake stepped closer to her, close enough she could feel his breath down the back of her neck, giving her chills. “You make me feel things, no matter how much I try not to,” Blake said, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I was not expecting this. This was not part of the plan.”
“I know. I don’t think you tried to trick me about this.”
He had tricked her about the wedding though, but his confusion about the attraction between them seemed real. He seemed as unable to stop his reaction as she was.
“I know you’re worried because I’m your boss, but I would never, ever use this against you, no matter what happens or doesn’t happen between us.”
His hand reached up to cup her cheek.
“Look, I’m shaking. I can’t stop thinking about you, about touching all of you. God, I bought you all these clothes and now all I want to do is undress you.”
Samantha’s nipples hardened beneath the silk dress and her breath caught in her throat. Blake leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers, and she could smell his manliness, smell his sweat and desire. Blake’s hand gently brushed against each nipple and Samantha shuddered. When Blake’s tongue began to push against her lips,
Samantha opened her mouth, welcoming him in, teasing him with her tongue, too.
Blake wrapped both arms around her waist and, as they remained locked in a kiss, he propelled her backwards and up against the bathroom counter.
“Oh Blake,” Samantha said, as Blake pressed his erection against her.
“I really, really want you,” he said in a low deep voice.
Samantha leaned forward, her breathing heavy, a moan escaping her lips before Blake wrapped his arms around her again and bit her lower lip.
“Oh my god,” she said, a shudder overtaking her.
All she wanted was him, to take off the dress and have him insider her.
But Blake pulled away from their kiss, gently pressing her cheek against his strong, hard chest. Holding her close to him, where she could hear his heart beating loudly in his chest.
“Not like this,” he murmured against her hair. “Not rushed. We have to get to the rehearsal dinner,” he said, his voice tight. “I want our time together to be special. You go on down for cocktails.”
Samantha wanted to object, to wait for him, but maybe it would be easier to make small talk with his family instead of walking into the room with him and pretending that she had any control over her body or her reaction to him. Her center clenched with desire, remembering how he’d touched her, and kissed her, bringing her to the brink of orgasm even though both of them still had their clothes on.
Imagine how he could make her feel later. She went to reapply her lipstick and smiled at her red, puffy lips, knowing they didn’t really need any lipstick to give them the “just-kissed” look.
Oh, Sam, she asked herself, what have you gotten yourself into?
*
Blake needed a long, cold shower. Somehow he’d managed to pull himself away from Samantha just in time. What he’d wanted to do was rip the gorgeous dress off her body, pick her up and put her on top of the bathroom counter, palm her perfect breasts in his hands and watch her blue eyes darken as he thrust inside her, deep inside her. But he knew his being her boss complicated things, and that he had to stick to his promise of a platonic weekend if she wanted. He wouldn’t push her. He shouldn’t be wanting her at all, but Blake realized it was too late to ignore his desire.
He splashed aftershave on his face, and smiled as he looked down at the white marble countertop. He imagined Samantha sitting there just a few moments before, naked after he pulled the blue silk dress from her body – shaking his head, he walked into his bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind him.
They’d reconnect tonight, and he could hardly wait. Checking his tie in the bedroom mirror, he nodded at his reflection and steeled himself for the festivities of the evening. As he reached the bottom of the main staircase, he scanned the crowd for Samantha. There were only 30 people invited to the rehearsal dinner, he remembered, so it shouldn’t be hard to spot Samantha. He looked again, taking in the crowd, but she was nowhere.
“A martini sir?” asked a waiter carrying a silver tray.
“Yes, thank you,” Blake answered, surprised when the waiter handed him his favorite drink, the exact way he liked it: double stuffed blue cheese olives, dirty and up.
And then he spotted his sister, grinning at him from the corner of the grand foyer.
Avery hurried across the room to hug him.
“You look gorgeous big sis,” Blake said, kissing Avery on the cheek and stepping back to admire her yellow silk dress. Her cheeks were flushed and Blake realized, just then, how happy she was.
“Thanks little brother,” she answered. “I ordered you a drink, I hope I got it right. I really like Samantha, by the way. I hope Mark is growing on you.”
Blake took a big sip of his martini, allowing the searing liquid to coat his throat, giving him time to answer. “Sis, if you’re happy, I’m happy. And Mark seems to make you happy so he’s welcome, just another part of the family,” Blake answered, measuring his words.
“He’s joining Putnam Enterprises!” Avery confided. “He’s so excited. He’ll be right under James!”
Of course he would, Blake thought, taking another big drink of his martini. Mark would be married to his sister tomorrow, and then, he’d have a job for life. Not because he was the smartest, or the most skilled, or the most qualified – no it would be simply because he was family. Blake wanted to change the subject before he said something he’d regret.
“Avery, have you seen Samantha? I haven’t spotted her since I came down,” Blake said.
“Oh, last I saw she was in the library,” Avery answered. “I’m so glad you’re happy for me, Blake! Your opinion means a lot.”
“Cheers,” Blake said, kissing his sister on the cheek and happy that for once he hadn’t shared his opinion.
He placed his empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray. “Another please. I’ll be in the library.”
“Yes, sir,” the waiter said.
Blake walked in the door of the library, and froze.
Samantha, wearing the elegant blue dress, that he hoped to peel off her delectable body later tonight was backed into the corner of his father’s library, talking intimately with Mark’s brother, Max, the same guy who had tried to flirt with her before on the beach. Blake didn’t care if they were about to be family, all he cared about was Sam, and she looked uncomfortable.
Max had her pinned against the bookcase, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. She was leaning away from him, and he was talking to her intensely.
“Blake,” she said, and he caught the note of relief in her voice. “I thought women were supposed to take ages to get ready, not men.”
Max had backed off enough so that she could slip past him. She linked her fingers with his, and when the waiter joined them and handed Blake the drink he’d ordered, she stole it, took a sip, her eyes smiling into his.
“I’m glad you’re here.”
Blake pulled her close and gave her a soft kiss on the lips.
“Was he bothering you?” Blake asked, narrowing his eyes at Max, who leaned against the books and smiled at them.
“It’s nothing,” she handed his drink back.
“Do you want one?”
“Exactly like that,” Samantha told the waiter.
“Have mine,” he whispered in her ear. “Let’s go outside. I want to be alone with you.”
Blake looked into her beautiful blue eyes, and softened. He looked away from Max and focused on Samantha. “You do look beautiful. I just, I don’t trust Mark’s brother or his family.”
“Blake, you do trust me though,” she led him back into the larger room. “I was just having a conversation with him. He flirts, but not my type.”
“What’s your type?” He asked curiously.
“Evolving,” Samantha said, relaxing enough to tease him.
She took the martini off the waiter’s tray as he paused in front of her.
“Olive?” She asked him, as she put one in her mouth and stood on tip toe so he could eat the other one on the stick.
Blake never did public displays of affection. Ever. He’d even told her that, but he caught the olive between his lips and with his free hand pulled her in tight to his body so that she could feel what she did to him. Samantha sighed into his mouth, and moved against him, so that his erection pressed into her belly.
“Things have changed, Sam,” Blake said. “Forget the business deal. I want to be together.”
She pulled away. “What do you mean forget the…?” She whispered.
“Dinner is served,” the waiter hovered by his elbow.
Blake bit back a curse. “Samantha, wait,” he called out.
She was already crossing the room following the others into the grand dining room. He practically had to run to catch up to her. He looked down at her. Her expression was unreadable, but she bit down on her full bottom lip. Even that was sexy, Blake thought. She looked tense, but he didn’t know why. He debated what to do. There was distance between them. He traced a finger down her bare arm and
covered her small hand with his. She smiled up at him and flipped her wrist so that they were holding hands.
“We could just make a run for it,” he whispered in her ear.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He stopped walking right on the threshold. “Try me.”
Samantha looked at his expression, and he could tell she was uncertain.
“Blake, it’s your sister’s wedding weekend. It’s why we’re here.”
She squeezed his hand and then let him go.
*
As they walked into the grand dining room – and it was grand, bigger than any room Samantha had ever had dined in before, including restaurants – all she could feel, all she could sense was the pressure of Blake’s hand on the small of her back. It made her feel cared for, a part of something, and she hadn’t felt like that in a long time, but what did he mean, forget the business deal. Did he expect her to quit her job now and date him? Is that what he thought?
She squared her shoulders. She wanted to whirl around and demand an answer right now, but Avery smiled and waved at her, and then said something to her fiancé, who then looked at them.
She smiled back. She’d get through the dinner somehow and then before she’d get lost in his kisses, she wanted to know exactly what Blake was thinking.
She didn’t trust herself with words, so she simply smiled at his entire family as they entered the room. The warmth of his hand, which had now settled on her waist, seemed to ignite a fire that flared through her blood stream. He was touching her in front of his entire family and the wedding party. That must mean something, but Samantha couldn’t analyze anything anymore as her attention was focused on imagining Blake’s chest without his dress shirt. She was fueled by lust and longing. She turned to look at Blake, wearing a perfectly fitted European cut suit, navy blue, white shirt, navy tie with tiny light blue dots – she realized suddenly, his tie perfectly matched her dress. She imagined his broad shoulders, his perfect six-pack—
