Bedside Manor: A Billionaire Baby Romance (The Londonaire Brothers Series Book 3)

by Amanda Aksel

I smirk a devilish grin. I can lend a hand, a mouth, a tongue, my cock. Whatever she wants. She’s playing innocent. I’m sure at least one of her friends is still in the hotel. This is definitely . . . what do they call it in the States? A booty call. I walk over to the bar. “Can I get you a drink before I unbutton your dress?”

  Beau tucks her hair behind her ear. “You know what, never mind.” She heads for the door, her feet moving across the rug in the opposite direction sounds like nails on a chalkboard. I have to make it stop.

  “Wait,” I call, walking after her. “I’m sorry. It was a joke. A bad one, I guess.”

  “It might have been funnier if you weren’t already shirtless.” Her eyes widen the moment she finishes her sentence.

  I raise my brow. “You noticed that, huh?”

  “It’s kinda hard not to.” And the game has resumed. “I mean . . . never mind. Can you just help me, and I’ll be out of here in a minute.”

  I don’t know what kind of men she’s been with in the past, but I’ll be longer than a minute. Much longer. Then again, maybe she’s not playing a game and her visit isn’t as friendly as I’m hoping. “Sure.”

  She turns around and sweeps her golden hair across her neck and over her shoulder. A column of round fabric buttons runs down the middle of her back, all the way to her waist. I move close enough to smell her floral-scented hair but far enough away that she doesn’t feel how thrilled I am to unbutton her dress. One by one, I unfasten each button, the same way I would if I were kissing her from her neck to her thighs. Slowly, sensually. Her ribs expand in and out with every inhale and exhale, heavy with anticipation. I’m almost sure she shivers as I reveal each inch of her skin. My cock throbs in my pants as if this were foreplay.

  With the right woman, everything is foreplay.

  I stare down at the freckles along Beau’s spine. Her ribs expand and contract, and she breaths slowly as if she’s pacing herself. I get to the last one and can see the top of her blue lace thong. I let my eyes linger for only a second. She’s not here for that.

  “All done,” I say.

  She looks over her shoulder, fluttering her long lashes. “Thanks.” Drawing me in with her hungry eyes and heavy breath, I lean in and run my knuckle slowly down her spine. Her skin prickles at my touch, but she doesn’t flinch. Her mouth parts, welcoming me in. I tuck my hand inside her dress, around her waist and pull her closer to me. Our lips meet in a soft kiss as her hand reaches up around the back of my neck, her fingers threading through my hair. I press my hips against her, so she can feel how badly I want her. She moans in my mouth and I want to swallow it, the way I want to swallow her. I don’t care that she’s Kate’s best friend, maid of honor, whatever. There’s no way I will regret tonight. I glide my hand up to her pillowy breast, gently pinching her hard nipple. She moans again, but then pulls away. Reality sets back in.

  “I can’t. I’m sorry,” she says and heads for the door with more speed than last time.

  “Wait. What happened?” I call after her, but she slams the door behind her, leaving me with blue balls and no answers.

  5

  I DASH ACROSS THE HALL AND SLAM THE DOOR SHUT, PANTING. What have I done? The wedding hasn’t even happened and I’m already off the wagon. If only I had a sponsor I could call. I’d usually jump on a video call with Kate, but I can’t tell her that I kissed her future brother-in-law. Well, technically he kissed me, but I let him. I wanted him to kiss me. And I want to go back for more.

  But I won’t let myself go there.

  After peeling myself off the door, I bolt it shut and peek into the peephole just to make sure he hasn’t come after me. It’s completely quiet with the exception of an imaginary rant from inside my thong, something along the lines of, What the hell is wrong with you? We could be fucking a fit Brit right now if you weren’t such a lovesick nut case!

  “Hush up, you troublemaker!” my brain seems to reply.

  I need a cold shower.

  ***

  After tossing and turning almost the entire night, I finally fall into a deep sleep in the wee hours of the morning. Between that and being jet lagged, I oversleep my 7:00 a.m. alarm by about oh . . . forty-five minutes.

  Shit! I’m supposed to be in Kate’s room in fifteen minutes for hair and makeup. I hurry to the shower and blast myself with cold water. Okay, I’m awake. As I wash my back, the memory of Mick’s fingers caressing my skin floods my mind. I trace his touch with the soap, running it along my side and up my breasts. I bite my lip and close my eyes, remembering the taste of his lips on mine. My nipples begin to ache for his touch and my hand slides between my thighs. A moan escapes my lips, echoing off the tiled shower walls, bouncing back to me like a slap in the face.

  Beau, stop!

  This is a slippery slope. I take a deep breath and blast myself with cold water again. I have to get him out of my head. But how am I supposed to do that when I’m literally walking down the aisle with Mick Bonnaire this afternoon? Make that Dr. Mick Bonnaire. Dammit! I really screwed up. And Kate? How am I supposed to go the whole day without telling her?

  I shut off the water and rub my face dry with a terry-cloth towel. Okay, Beau, you need to suck it up, put on your big girl panties, and don’t take them off until you’re alone and safe in the room with the door bolted shut. Besides, it was just a kiss. Maybe I’m making too big of a deal out of it. I got out of there in time. Nothing happened.

  Except something did happen.

  I just need to focus on Kate. It’s Kate’s day. And Drew’s day, the brother of the guy I kissed.

  Dammit! There it is again. I wonder if it’s too early for a glass of champagne. Just as I finish pulling up my leggings, the sound of a door creaks open in the hallway. I scurry over and look out the peephole. It’s Mick leaving his room. He’s as gorgeous as ever, even through the fish-eye lens.

  I wait a few minutes after he walks away, grab my things, and make my way toward the elevator. The coast is clear, all the way up to the seventeenth floor. I knock on Kate’s door, and not a moment later it swings open.

  “Beau!” Kate says, holding her arms open with a huge grin on her face. “Come in!” She gives me a tight squeeze as I enter the room, and the door slams behind me.

  Lisa walks toward us holding a flute of orange juice. “I hope you’re thirsty.”

  “I am. Thank you.” I take a sip and smack my lips together making a satisfied hum. “A mimosa, just what the doctor ordered.” The moment I utter the word doctor, my brain goes on high alert. Okay, no more doctor references, and whatever you do, Beau, don’t say his name.

  “So, what’s happening? Are you nervous for the big day?” I ask, when really, I’m the one who’s nervous.

  Kate walks further into the suite and I follow her. The room is twice the size of mine, like a decent-sized apartment for New York. “The only thing I’m nervous about is the forecast. It might rain, and I am not about to get married in a backup room.”

  I glance out the window. The sun streaming through could not be brighter. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m just trying to think positive. Anyway, come sit down. We’re just about to have some breakfast.”

  The other bridesmaids are already seated around the linen-covered dining table. I greet each of them with a peck on the cheek and sit next to the bride.

  “Where’d you go last night? You missed a good time,” Kate’s friend McKenzie asks before biting into a piece of crispy bacon.

  My cheeks begin to prickle with heat. “Nowhere, just back to my room.”

  “Oh, my God, Beau, you would’ve loved this club in Chelsea.”

  “Yeah, maybe we can hit it up later tonight.”

  She sneers. “Been there, done that.”

  Kate nudges my shoulder. “It’s okay, you weren’t the only party pooper last night. Mick didn’t show either.”

  Mick? Now I’m sure my face is beet red. The best thing for me to do is stuff a sausage link in my mouth and hush up. Luckily, Kate and the
girls carry on the conversation just fine without me.

  After breakfast, Kate’s favorite music plays in the background while a team of New York stylists work on me and the other bridesmaids like we’re prepping for a fashion shoot. I sit near Kate and watch a makeup artist swipe her lids with a beautiful violet eye shadow while a massage therapist kneads her hand.

  “I don’t even know why I booked a massage. I don’t think I’ll be able to relax until I see Drew,” Kate says.

  “Mmhmm,” I mutter.

  She keeps her face steady, and as soon as the brush is lifted from her lid, she gives me a strange look. “Why are you so quiet today? Usually, I can’t get you to shut up.”

  “You really want to know?” I ask.

  “Yes!” she blurts with a wide-eyed look. “Wait . . . Do I want to know?”

  I shrug. “I dunno, that’s why I’m asking.”

  “Beau.” Her voice goes flat. “What is it?”

  I fill my lungs with the truth and lean close to Kate. “Mick kissed me last night.”

  Her glossy mouth gapes. “He what?”

  “Yep.”

  “But you—”

  “I know.”

  “Did you sleep with him?” she asks.

  I shake my head wildly. “No, of course not. But I could have. I mean, what if something happens tonight? I need someone to keep an eye on me.”

  Kate purses her mouth. “I’d love to help you out, but it’s my wedding day so . . .”

  “Of course, I didn’t mean you. I’m sorry. Am I ruining your wedding?”

  “No way!” She playfully shoves my shoulder. “If you weren’t on this romance cleanse, I’d say fuck him. If he’s anything like his brother—”

  “Kate! That’s not helping.”

  She shakes her head. “Right, sorry. Don’t worry. We’ll call in reinforcements.”

  6

  I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO STOP thinking about her all day. Probably because I know she’s somewhere in this hotel right now. Every time someone enters the room, I whip my head around to see if it’s her. My stomach flips every time. It’s been so long since a woman made my stomach flip. I feel like I’m a fucking teenager.

  Seeing that she’s my soon-to-be sister-in-law’s best friend, I will most likely encounter her again and again over the years. I probably shouldn’t have kissed her, touched her. But how could I not when she’s, she’s . . . her. I really don’t have an ounce of guilt about it. And if she shows up at my door again tonight, then I won’t be able to say no. That’s my fatal flaw. I want what I want, and I ignore the red flags. That’s what happened with my fiancée. Ex-fiancée.

  A hand taps my shoulder. “Hey, mate, you got the rings?”

  I glance over. It’s Kent, looking as cool as the California boy he’s become, even though he’s had to be in close vicinity to our dad half the day. The two still haven’t spoken since he quit almost a year ago. I reach into my pocket and pull out a small box. “Right here.”

  Kent nods with a satisfied look and walks away. I open the box and stare at the white-gold his-and-her bands sitting side by side in the white leather cushion. It makes me recall my own wedding day last year. I remember how absentminded Drew had been around that time. I hadn’t known it was because he’d just met Kate and was busy giving her rides on his motorbike. I gave the rings to Kent for safekeeping until Drew made it safely to the church. But it hadn’t mattered. The moment I arrived, another man had been fucking Davina and . . . my stomach churns at the thought. Let’s just say, there are some things you can’t unsee. But it doesn’t mean I don’t try.

  Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in on them. Would she have really done it? Walked down the aisle and promised in front of everyone we knew, including English royalty, that she’d love me forever? That she’d be faithful? She would have. I know it. What would life be like now? Would I think we were happy? Would we be expecting our first child? How much longer would it have taken for me to figure it out?

  It’s crazy how a single moment can change everything. Not just your circumstances, but everything about you. I see it a lot with my patients. Heart attacks and diseases can be eye-opening. You can almost see it in their faces, the regret. Scared to die and wishing they had more time to live better. Be better. Be happier.

  I close the ring box and place it safely in my pocket. Drew’s wedding day isn’t going to turn out at all like mine. I walk over to the bar and pour three shots of whiskey. No, they’re not all for me. I call my brothers over and hand one to each of them.

  “What’s this?” Drew takes the glass.

  I hold mine up. “A good luck toast for the groom. May this day be a happy one.”

  “The happiest one,” Kent adds.

  “Cheers.” The three of us toast our glasses and throw back the shots like the frequent pub lads we are.

  The suite phone rings and Collin, Drew’s best friend, answers. “We’ll be right down.” He hangs up the phone and looks to us. “The car’s downstairs.”

  Drew takes in a deep breath. “Well, all right. Looks like it’s time to go.” He seems tense. So, I step closer and look into my brother’s dark eyes.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask.

  The corners of Drew’s mouth turn up into the goofiest, most lovesick grin I’ve ever seen. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my whole life.”

  The lads move toward the door, and Drew nods for me to follow. It must be nice to feel that confident in a relationship. Even with Davina I hadn’t been that sure. It also hadn’t helped that Drew had continued to warn me against her. I had thought that maybe he was jealous of what I had. But he had just been smarter than me—and in my experience, I’m usually the smartest person in the room.

  We make the twenty-minute drive downtown to Tribeca. Drew and Kate decided on a rooftop wedding—an idea our father absolutely hated. When the boys and I arrive at the top of the building, the clouds roll in, but it’s nothing too foreboding. Most of the guests have already been seated in the white folding chairs. The space has been set up in a minimalist New York sort of way. Not at all like my million-dollar, gaudy church ceremony. Maybe that’s the key—the simpler the wedding, the simpler the marriage, which is a good thing. Then I spot the one ostentatious thing on the roof, and it’s not Garret. It’s a gold-lacquered piano—the same pianist as last night playing nothing but Billy Joel. Most of me wants to fake a gag, but there’s a tiny part of me that thinks it’s kind of . . . nah, never mind. I’ll go with nauseating.

  A woman wearing all black approaches and says that the bride and bridesmaids have arrived, and we should prepare to take our places.

  Lisa, Kate’s stepmother, walks up with her chin high, smiling like a princess. “Good afternoon, Mick,” she says. “Would you escort me to my seat?”

  I extend my arm, and she rests her hand near the crook. “It would be my pleasure.” I’ll never understand why Kate’s dad let this woman go. He must be an idiot. But then again, maybe there’s more to the story.

  Within a handful of minutes, all the guests are seated, and the piano man begins to play “The Longest Time.” The woman in black signals for us to queue up, then checks her headset before ushering us down the aisle. My stomach tenses with every step toward the arbor. Beau will be walking up soon, and I have no idea what to do. Should I not look at her and pretend like nothing ever happened? Flash her my dimples during the ceremony and see if she’s up for more? Or smile politely and swallow my pride? Christ, I never overthink anything this much. Too bad it’d be in poor taste to whip out my flask and take a swig up here in front of everyone.

  Once we’re positioned at the front—just as we practiced—Drew looks back at me, and I give him an encouraging nod. Maybe I’m not such a bad best man after all. The song morphs into another, “She’s Got A Way.” The bridesmaids appear at the end of the aisle, all of them wearing long red strapless gowns. They look like perfect New York royalty. All of them. An
d then, behind a brunette, is that gorgeous blonde, Beau. Her walk is even more graceful than that of any princess I’ve ever seen. Her lashes lift and I catch her lovely blue eyes with mine. My breath catches in my chest. She definitely has a way about her. I hold her gaze as she steps forward, one foot in front of the other. Then, her soft smile twists and she wobbles on her heel.

  It’s not subtle.

  The crowd gasps and I take a runner’s stance. She lifts her arms out to her sides and steadies herself. A loud, relieved sigh sounds from the guests, and she grins, convincing everyone that she’s fine. Better than fine. She meant to do that.

  A chuckle almost leaves my lips, and she looks up at me again as I watch her approach, her eyes steady on me as if I’m pulling her closer with my gaze. It’s quite the party trick. No offense to the bride, but never was there a more gorgeous woman who ever walked down any aisle for any occasion.

  7

  I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT JUST HAPPENED. How could I have almost fallen on my ass walking down the aisle of my best friend’s wedding? I used to runway model for Christ’s sake. It’s him, Mick, looking so absolutely gorgeous in his best man tux. I bet he didn’t almost fall on the way down to the arbor. It’s not just him. It’s me. I’m so nervous that I’m going to yell out, Mick and I kissed last night! in the middle of the ceremony just to get it off my chest.

  Oh, Beau.

  Just breathe.

  I suck in a deep breath and look up, meeting Mick’s gaze. His crystal-blue eyes burn into mine, and it’s like two magnets pulling each other closer and closer. His lips hint at a little smile, like he wants to laugh—not at my expense but in spite of it. I want to laugh, too, believe me. My heart drums against my chest with every step I take forward. Between the piano music, me being in this stunning gown, and Mick standing up there, keeping his eyes on me as if I’m the only person in the room, I can’t help but be transported into fantasyland. I’ve fought coming to this place—this imaginary place—for six months, but the conditions are perfect. I don’t think I can stop it now.