by Tawny Weber
His stepsister hissed and wrenched her arm away. With a glare of hatred, she said, “You’re just Mr. Golden Boy, aren’t you? You think you’re so perfect. Everything just falls into your lap. You deserve all these problems. These and more.”
“You’re such a nasty bitch,” Belle accused in a shocked whisper.
“And you’re an interfering one. I was this close,” she spat, holding her fingers in front of Belle’s face, “to winning. You just lucked out, that’s all.”
Mitch gave Reece a look, and in an instant his cousin had switched places with him. Now Reece had Lena cornered, leaving Mitch free to put his arm around Belle’s shoulder.
“No. Even without proof, I knew Belle wasn’t behind this.”
“How?” Belle asked quietly beside him.
He looked down into her face, her beautiful green eyes glistening with tears and happiness. Mitch’s heart shifted, all the worries and fear dropping away as he leaned down to brush a soft kiss over her full lips.
“Because I trust you.”
* * *
“I WANTED TO SMACK you silly when I first saw you this morning,” Belle murmured to Mitch an hour later. After the big show and resulting fallout, she and Sierra had watched gleefully from the sidelines as Lena was hauled off the property by the cops.
Now, an hour later, she and Mitch had escaped to the serenity of the woods for a “picnic” and a talk. She’d rather picnic than talk, but he’d told her to keep her clothes on until he’d said his piece.
Then he’d proceeded to pull her down on the blanket and kiss her silly instead of talking.
“I could tell you were eyeing me like a punching bag,” he acknowledged against her hair. His chest shook as he laughed silently. “Don’t actually hit me when I tell you this, but it was a total turn-on seeing you that pissed. I wanted to strip you naked and do you on the registration desk.”
She pulled back to look at his face and laugh, then she shook her head. “Crazy. You’re absolutely crazy.”
“I can’t help it. It drives me nuts when you get all confrontational.”
Belle ducked her head back onto his chest to hide her tears. The one thing she’d always been so afraid of and Mitch loved it. A bubbling kind of joy burst inside her, sending sparks of happiness through her system. Belle wanted to laugh and cry and dance around wildly. She swallowed, not willing to cry all over him again. Apparently she was free to hit him, though.
A beautiful sense of peace washed over her. She had no idea where they were going from here, especially since her contract with the resort would be fulfilled by the end of the month. But she did know she was holding tight to Mitch, and hey, if she wanted to get in his face about any issues that came up, she’d just been green-lighted.
Still giggling at the idea of her aggression being a turn-on, she wondered if the registration area was ever completely private. Belle snuggled deeper into his arms and sighed as she watched the breeze dance through the canopy of leaves overhead.
After a few more idyllic minutes in his arms, though, Belle started squirming. All this cuddling stuff was sweet, but she wanted her picnic.
“I’m still waiting to hear your piece,” she finally reminded him. “If you’d get on with it, we could move on with this afternoon’s entertainment.”
Mitch laughed and hugged her even tighter.
“Why’d she do it?” she asked quietly, afraid to ruin the tranquility of the moment but needing to know.
“Money. Apparently she was livid that her father willed his company to me. He’d left her a small fortune, but she thought she should have gotten more. She saw his leaving me anything as a betrayal. She said that’s why she refused to sit on the board, to have anything to do with me. She’s partnered up with a rival developer and I guess she figured when I tanked here, she’d swoop in and buy the place cheap.”
“Crazy,” Belle breathed. “She really thought that would work?”
Mitch’s shirt rubbed softly against her cheek as he shrugged. “She had the financial backing. Real estate is plummeting and she’s got the inside track. Hell, if her plan had worked instead of us...you...catching her, I’d have probably thanked Lena for bailing me out.”
“That’s like saying if pigs could fly then Manolos would fall from the sky,” Belle scoffed. Mitch’s brows drew together as he tried to decipher that, but she kept going before he could ask. “Her plan couldn’t have worked. At best, it was an annoyance. A pain in your butt and a crash test in ‘what could go wrong’ for the resort.”
“Sure, now,” he agreed. “But you read the list. Hell, you found it. She was saving the big guns for after the resort was actually open to the public.”
“What’s going to happen to her?” Belle asked quietly.
“We’ll press charges. I don’t want her jailed or anything, but Reece pointed out that we need to take legal steps just in case she tries something in the future.”
She could tell he was beating himself up over it all. Determined not to let Lena leave a nasty aftertaste, Belle pushed the issue.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a success for a good reason, Mitch. You bust your ass, you’re a brilliant strategist and, like my daddy always said, you have the touch. She couldn’t have hurt the resort. Not really.”
Belle bit her lip after saying that. While she thought of his hurt as having to do with business, maybe Mitch was suffering emotionally. After all, family was everything to him. “I’m sorry she hurt you, though,” Belle added softly.
Mitch’s eyes, so hard and irritated a second ago, melted to that soft, sexy cinnamon that she loved so much. He shook his head and grimaced. “She didn’t hurt me so much as she slapped at my pride.” He took a deep breath that made his chest do yummy things against Belle’s breasts and shrugged. “It was bad enough her gunning for me. I mean, yes, her thinking was twisted, but there is some justification in her anger that I took her father’s business and not only made it mine but brought my entire family on board and left her out in the cold.”
“A cold she chose.” Belle repeated what Reece had told her earlier. “You offered her a board position. She’s the one who turned her nose up as if it wasn’t good enough for her.”
As Mitch considered her words, some of the tension left his shoulders. Then he nodded and told her, “She never really connected with my family. Grammy Lynn said it was because she was a snob and we weren’t upscale enough. I just figured she felt left out.”
Then his expression hardened. “But as much as I might try to understand her reasons for aiming at me, there is no excuse for her trying to incriminate you.”
Belle searched herself, but there wasn’t any anger left. The sight of Lena’s arrogant ass being hauled off in handcuffs had satisfied her need for revenge. Not wanting to waste any more time on Lena or her twisted motives, Belle shifted just a little so her breasts brushed Mitch’s chest. Smart man that he was, he slid one hand inside her blouse to cup her, his fingers doing a soft, easy swirl around her hardening nipple.
“No matter, it’s done,” Belle said, angling her bent leg over Mitch’s thighs so she could feel his erection hardening. “She doesn’t matter, she’s finished. We’re not, though.”
“And that’s what counts,” Mitch said with satisfaction.
Their lips met in a kiss that scared the hell out of Belle. Not because of the intensity of it, but because of the sweetness. She could so get addicted to this kind of kissing. It felt like the promise of forever.
“By the way,” Mitch said as he curled his fingers through hers and lifted her hand to his lips, “I talked to your father this morning.”
Nothing said cold shower on an intimate moment louder than the mention of a parent. Belle automatically tugged her blouse into place and shifted just a little so she wasn’t pressed against his erection.
“Daddy?” she asked with a confused frown. “Why?”
“I didn’t realize until Reece did some digging that your father was in a financial m
ess, in part because of that property we’d planned to develop. Although he did say that you’d done a fine job of bailing him out of most of his problems.”
Belle blushed at the impressed smile he gave her, but didn’t say anything. She wanted to know why he’d called her father. More important, she wanted to know how the two most important men in her life had gotten along.
“Your dad and I are meeting next week. Apparently we already have a dinner date,” he said, giving her a teasing look. “We’re going to go ahead with our original plans and develop that property.”
Belle had to forcibly refrain from clapping her hands and cheering. She did grin, though, and gave Mitch a tight hug. When she pulled back, she noticed a look in his cinnamon-brown eyes. Dark, intense, direct. It scared the hell out of her. She swallowed. She’d promised herself the days of avoidance were a thing of the past, so instead of distracting him with sex, she asked, “What else? You look like there’s something important you want to say.”
He gave a snort of laughter and nodded. Then, her hand still in his, he kissed her palm and held their entwined hands against his heart.
“Through everything that’s happened, you’ve believed in me, Belle. I’ve spent most of my life trying to prove myself, wanting to impress people. But you never needed proof and were impressed despite my mistakes.” He looked deep into her eyes and sighed.
“Belle, I love you. I’ve always loved you, even if I wasn’t smart enough to know it. I wanted to marry you six years ago for a million reasons. But love was definitely one of them.”
Joy spun through her system so fast she was dizzy with it. Her laughter rang through the trees as she pulled her hand free so she could hug him close. Her body pressed against his, Belle could feel the beat of his heart and gave a giddy thanks, knowing it belonged to her.
“I love you, too,” she said softly, pulling back to smile into his eyes. “I love everything about you. Your ambition and drive, your integrity, your devotion to your family. I love your sense of humor and how freaking incredible you are in bed. I just love you, Mitch.”
He gave her a huge grin. “Good. Then you’ll say yes.”
“Sure,” she agreed. Then her brows drew together and she shook her head. “Yes to what?”
He carefully rolled aside and reached around to the picnic basket. Pulling a medium-size package out, he handed the festively wrapped box to her and motioned that she should open it.
Lecturing herself for wishing it was a smaller, jewelry-sized box, Belle leaned on one elbow and tugged at the bow. With an excited laugh and a questioning glance, she pulled the lid off the box.
Her jaw dropped as tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, Mitch,” she breathed.
Blinking furiously, she pulled out a pair of tennis shoes.
“I want to make sure you have a choice. Six years ago, I wanted to marry you for a million reasons,” he repeated. “This time, I only want to marry you for one. The only reason that matters. I love you.”
Belle wiped away the tears. She’d be damned if she’d be a weepy mess for the most incredible moment of her life. The man she’d been dreaming of forever, her perfect hero, was being all gushy and she wanted to enjoy every wonderful moment of it.
“Forever?” she asked.
“Forever.”
With a cheek-splitting grin, she handed him back the tennis shoes and shook her head. “Then I won’t be needing these, will I?”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of Lying in Bed by Jo Leigh
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1
SPECIAL AGENT RYAN VAIL tossed the brochure on the bed. The amazingly comfortable-looking bed, which was a far cry from most of the rat holes he’d been stuck with on various FBI stings and stakeouts. The Color Canyon Resort and Spa was a decadent oasis in the middle of the Las Vegas desert built for people with cash to spend and a yen for excitement and being pampered.
Ryan settled against the headboard, the puffy comforter billowing around him. Straight ahead was a forty-two-inch flat-screen TV. There was a wing chair, a leather love seat, an extravagantly stocked minibar and, if he turned his head to the right, beyond the private patio was a view of a nice little courtyard with a pool and spa pool all in the shadow of the Spring Mountains. It might be February in the rest of the world, but in the Vegas desert it was a balmy seventy-two degrees with copious sunshine on the docket for the rest of the week.
He grinned, pulled out his cell phone and went right to speed dial text.
You’re gonna die when you see the bathtub.
He hit Send, adjusted the pillow behind him and checked out his work stuff. Another email update on Delilah Bridges, one of the cotherapists in charge of this barbecue. Four people ran the Intimate At Last retreat weekends, all suspects in a major blackmail scheme. Unfortunately for them, they’d unwittingly targeted a friend of James Leonard, the Deputy Director of the FBI.
Ryan’s phone rang, and he knew it was his partner without even looking. “Jeannie Foster. How’s my favorite witness for the State?”
“Shut up, you bastard,” she said, her voice echoey, as if she were speaking in a vast hall. Or a toilet stall.
Of course, he’d taken a picture of the big-enough-for-a-party whirlpool tub, which he promptly sent her. A moment later, the mother of two cursed him with her usual flair.
“I hate court. I hate lawyers. I hate judges. And don’t even get me started on juries. Get me the hell out of here, Ryan.”
“It should be over soon, right?”
“Probably around the time of the next ice age. Jesus, they love to hear themselves talk.”
“In a few hours you’ll forget all about them. This place is something else. If I’m going to be forced to sleep with you, I’m glad it’s in this beauty of a bed. Which is actually more comfortable than mine at home.”
Jeannie laughed. “It’s not the bed, honey, it’s all your extracurricular activity. I think you’d have to find a titanium mattress to keep up.”
“You’re hilarious.”
“Nothing is hilarious today,” she said. “You get the new updates on Delilah?”
“Yeah.”
Her sigh was long and filled with frustration. “Interesting about her father and his criminal record, but dammit, still nothing usable. With all the data we’ve collected, you’d think we’d have uncovered something more viable.”
“Everyone makes mistakes. But,” he added, “I’m going to be such a perfect mark, they’re gonna wet themselves waiting to get to me. We’ll be out of here in a few days.”
“I thought you said the accommodations were super deluxe?”
He grinned. This is why he liked his partner, despite the fact that she could be a stick in the mud, what with being married and a mom. She was quick...and needed a vacation as badly as he did after the intensity of the past two months preparing for this sting. “Right. Maybe it’ll take the whole week.”
“There we go. I have to get back to the torture chamber. I hear they’re planning on using the rack next.”
“Hey, I’m gonna sign off on this phone, but Ryan Ebsen’s cell and laptop haven’t finished charging. If there’s a God, I should be asleep when you arrive, so don’t wake me.”
“Coming off another late night, Romeo?”
&
nbsp; “None of your business. Go be a witness.”
“I’ll talk to you in the morning,” she said, and then she was gone, and he was faced with the prospect of what to do with the rest of the afternoon.
It would be more fun to play craps or hang out in one of the casino bars, but from the moment he’d checked in, FBI Special Agent Ryan Vail was locked in a vault for the duration of his stay, replaced by the fictitious Ryan Ebsen. Husband of the equally fictitious Jeannie Ebsen. Son of Felicia and Bob from Reseda, California.
Ryan sifted through the file, studying the cover story he already knew inside and out. But when you pretended to be someone else, there was no such thing as too much prep. Ebsen was a regional manager for a business software firm. His lovely bride of nineteen months didn’t work because she didn’t need to. Not because he brought in enough money to live their extravagant life, but because she had a trust fund. A very hefty trust fund.
But Mrs. Ebsen had been spending a little too much time at the club lately with a very handsome tennis coach, which made Ryan itchy. He doubted they were sleeping together, but there was always a risk that if she started to feel as if the honeymoon was over, she could find solace in the tennis pro’s arms. It had been Ryan Ebsen’s idea to attend this couple’s retreat week, where they would “Learn how to transition to the deeper, more meaningful stage of a committed relationship.”
Mr. Ebsen, the scoundrel, really, really wanted to make the marriage work. He’d grown attached to their Brentwood home, the Manhattan pied-à-terre, his Ferrari, the first-class travel. He’d even decided to break things off with Roxanne, the gorgeous receptionist at his office. He was nothing if not serious about this intimacy crap.
He continued to read the email from his team in White Collar Crimes back in L.A. The first report of blackmail had come shortly after a weekend Intimate At Last retreat in Los Angeles, and since it dealt with some historic artwork and blackmail, the L.A. team had taken point on the investigation and now this sting operation. The Vegas office was up to speed, of course. No one wanted a turf war, but there was a time limit on this gig, because in a matter of weeks, the suspects were moving their base of operation to Cancún, Mexico.
