“And I most certainly haven’t let any Englishmen kiss me the way you have,” I hissed.
He flashed me a wide grin and I felt the need to reach out to steady myself on something. Clearly he was enjoying himself.
“And what way was that?” Dave asked.
“Indecently,” I shot back primly.
“Probably something to do with the fact I’ve had to watch the Englishman come on to you all weekend. It kind of pissed me off.”
Fine. If he was going to tease me, two could play at that game. “I thought you said you were an easy going type of guy?”
“About most things.”
“Technically, I’m dating him,” I reminded him.
“Maybe. But I didn’t hear you complaining when I kissed you – indecently.”
Talking about indecent kisses was not helping my frame of mind. It made me think about more kisses and a lot of other indecent activities.
As if reading my mind, Dave reached out and took my hands, tugging me closer to him. I looked around us self-consciously.
“Forget about them,” he ordered. “I don’t want to cause problems for you at work, but I do want to be the one to take that dress off you tonight.”
I swore I felt my heart physically throw itself against my ribs. I couldn’t tell if it was rejoicing or about to give out completely.
He reached over and gently swept my bangs out of my eyes. The trail his fingers left on my forehead tingled.
“Would you like that?” he asked softly.
I nodded, unable to speak. This was going to backfire, I was certain of it. Hadn’t I told James only last night it wasn’t appropriate to share a room with him?
“Good.” He waited until no one was looking at us, then leaned in.
I sucked in a sharp breath at his proximity, the scent of him infiltrating my system like some sort of drug.
His lips brushed my ear. “In case you were wondering, this dress is better than the towel. But just so you know, I liked the towel too.”
Chapter 27
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. After the signing of the register, we got into Dave’s cars and drove to various locations along the coast for the photography. I was in the front seat with Dave again and finding it hard not to sneak furtive glances at him every five seconds.
He really did look amazing in his suit. He wore reflective sunglasses beneath his chauffeur’s hat so I couldn’t see his eyes, and after not too long, I realized it was a good thing. When the bridal party stood in a row in front of the Mustang for a group shot, James’ arm possessively around my waist, Dave stood opposite and casually watched us. I knew what he was looking at: the way James’ hand traveled from my waist to cradle my hip. I swallowed when Dave’s eyebrows rose beneath his hat and tried to focus on the photographer.
When the photographer asked us to sit perched on the backseat in Sally, with the groomsmen standing in the background, Dave obliged. We had to take our high heels off first, of course. As I struggled to remove mine – the ankle strap was tiny – Dave knelt down in front of me.
Without saying a word he cradled my heel in his hand and carefully removed the shoe, then looked up at me. Damn sunglasses. I didn’t need to see his eyes to know where they were focused. I glanced self-consciously at my cleavage. Dave’s lip twitched and I felt his thumb trace a path along the sole of my foot. I snatched my foot away.
“Ticklish?” he asked softly. “Good to know.”
I didn’t have an answer for that because my body was approaching something close to physical pain. I turned and clambered into the backseat with Scarlett and Maddy watching on, already in position.
“Here.” I felt Dave grip my hips and guide me to where I was supposed to be sitting.
I imagined those hands on my hips, guiding me to do other things, and bit my lip.
Scarlett smirked. “What do you think, Dave? Maybe you could break your not in the car rule for Cate?”
I shot her a warning glare and looked around for James. Fortunately he was with the other groomsmen chatting to the photographer and not in hearing distance.
Dave chuckled softly and the deep sound of it was like a caress. “You never know.”
I gripped the flowers I was holding more tightly.
The photographer walked over and it was back to business. From that point on, I was careful to stay out of Dave’s way because I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.
*
We returned to the beach house later for a celebratory dinner with the other guests. It was extremely casual, which was exactly the way Christa had wanted it. After the meal, I sat with Scarlett, Maddy and Christa on the deck overlooking the beach. The mood was jovial, and illuminated by the moonlight, Christa appeared otherworldly.
“You’re like one of your sketches,” I told her.
She smiled and looked down at her dress. “It’s the outfit.”
I reached over and squeezed her hand. “No, it’s you. You’re absolutely beautiful.”
She squeezed my hand back. “Thank you. I feel beautiful today.” She glanced over at Max, who was chatting to his father. “He makes me feel beautiful.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I said, feeling as though my heart might actually burst with joy. I grinned at Maddy and Scarlett. “Can you believe it? Christa’s officially married!”
We all burst into laughter.
“That shouldn’t be funny,” gasped Christa, “but it is, isn't it?’
After we’d recovered, Christa gave me a curious look. “He makes you feel beautiful, doesn’t he?”
I glanced over at Dave, who was talking to the groomsmen. “Yes,” I whispered.
“That’s the way it should be. I like him, Cate, I really do.”
“Really?”
I saw Scarlett shake her head in the dim light. “Why won’t you just trust your instincts on this one?”
“What? Like you did with John?”
“Touché.” She grinned into her drink, no doubt remembering how hard she’d tried to resist her feelings for John.
“As it turns out, I’m going to,” I said.
Scarlett’s drink paused near her lips. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Good for you,” said Christa.
“It was that kiss, wasn’t it?” asked Scarlett.
“What kiss?” asked Christa, her eyes going wide.
I took a sip of my wine, not trusting myself to say anything.
“I walked in on them,” Scarlett told Christa. “If I hadn’t, I’m not sure where it would have ended up. Actually, strike that. I know exactly where it would have ended up. I’m glad I didn’t barge in on them later or it wouldn’t have been pretty.”
“Scarlett’s exaggerating,” I told them.
“No. I don’t exaggerate.”
I looked at her in disbelief. “You work in advertising.”
Our friendly banter was interrupted by a loud voice. “Don’t deny it! I’ve got eyes.”
We all turned to see James standing close – way too close – to Dave.
“Oh shit,” I heard Scarlett say.
Dave had his hands in his pockets and was watching James with an expressionless look on his face, but I could see his eyes. His tiger’s eyes. In the semi-darkness their golden glow appeared dangerous.
When Dave didn’t say anything, James reached out and shoved him.
“You piece of shit! You’re not even going to deny it, are you? You spend the whole weekend flirting with my girlfriend, right under my nose, and now you’re rubbing my face in it?”
Max strode over and put a firm hand on James’ shoulder. He leaned in and said something, but we couldn’t hear what.
James shook him off roughly and pointed at Dave. “You need to back off.”
“She’s not your girlfriend,” Dave said.
We all heard that. Christa jumped up and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
She tugged me across the deck toward them and I had a
hard time keeping up because my brain was still trying to process the situation. They were fighting about me? Men didn’t fight about me! About Maddy? Definitely. And Christa? Sure. But me? I stumbled on the edge of the deck and probably would have fallen over if Christa hadn’t been holding my hand.
“You bastard,” James spat, his English accent pronounced.
I froze and Christa stopped too, both of us anticipating the worst.
We were right.
James growled – he actually growled – and swung a fist at Dave’s face. Dave stepped back easily, out of reach of what even I could recognize was a poorly aimed shot.
“James!” Max yelled. “Stop it.”
The demand fell on deaf ears. James swung again.
This time Dave didn’t move out of the way. In one swift motion, he caught James by the arm and buried his fist deep into James’ stomach.
James doubled over, winded, and fell to his knees, coughing.
Dave took a step back and swore. A muscle in his jaw twitching, he looked over at Max. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave.”
Max nodded stiffly and crouched down next to James, while Dave stalked off in the direction of the house without looking back.
Christa pulled me over to Max and James.
“What happened?” she asked Max softly.
Max glanced up at us, a grim expression on his face. “James has had too much to drink. That’s what happened.”
“So it wasn’t Dave’s fault?” she asked.
Max shook his head. “James wouldn’t let it go.”
“Cate.”
I looked down at James. He was pale but seemed unhurt. “I wasn’t imagining it, was I?” he asked.
I closed my eyes. “No.”
When I opened them again, he was struggling to stand and Max gave him a hand.
“Cate,” James said again. “I don’t want you near that guy anymore. I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”
Christa’s blue eyes rounded and she looked between me and James nervously.
“No, James, that won’t be necessary,” I said, my voice sounding like it belonged to someone else.
“Not necessary?” James gaped at me in disbelief. “You’re a sweet girl, Cate, but you really need to pay more attention to what’s going on around you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Max frown and Christa grip his arm.
“I have been paying attention to what’s going on,” I said quietly.
“Well, obviously not, because if you had you’d have realized what sort of guy he is.”
I immediately felt the need to defend Dave. Oh God, why did I have to try to be so nice all the time? I should have just been honest with James from the start instead of letting it get so out of hand. “And what sort of guy is that?”
James shook his head. “He’s using you. You said he’s a client of yours, didn’t you? And then he talked you into hiring the cars for this weekend. My bet is he’s known what he’s doing all along. He’s trying to take advantage of you.”
“No, James, he isn’t.”
“He wants to sleep with you, Cate! I can’t believe you don’t see it!”
“I want to sleep with him too.” Well, I couldn’t get anymore honest than that, I supposed.
I swallowed as everyone around us fell silent, even Maddy’s and Christa’s parents, who had been doing a good job of pretending like nothing was happening.
“What?” James shook off Max’s arm and stepped toward me.
“You heard me.”
The shock on his face was replaced with disgust. “Oh my God. I don’t believe you. You sure had me fooled. I was stupid enough to think you were sweet—”
I heard my girlfriends start to protest but Max stepped in and grabbed James’ shoulder. “That’s enough.”
James ignored him. “You’ve slept with him already, haven’t you? Is that why you didn’t want me in your room last night?”
“I didn’t want you in my room last night because I don’t want to sleep with you. You just assumed I was going to.”
“But you’re my girlfriend!”
“We’ve been on three dates, James,” I said, trying to remain calm.
“But you like me. I’m on your wish list or whatever you call it.”
“And what? That gives you the right to sleep with me?”
“Yes!”
I took a step back. Up until that point I’d felt guilty. I’d felt that by being too nice I’d inadvertently led him on and that I was to blame for this situation blowing up in my face. And he was right about one thing: I needed to pay more attention. I’d been too distracted by Dave. If I’d paid more attention, I would have seen James for who he really was. A guy who ticked a lot of boxes but not much else. “I’m sorry, James, I really am. I never meant to give you the wrong impression. That list is a load of rubbish. Thanks to you, I see that now.”
I turned on my heel and hurried into the house, my heels skittering on the floorboards.
I needed to find Dave.
Chapter 28
I found Dave upstairs packing his bag.
“You can’t leave,” I said, standing outside his bedroom door.
Dave tossed a t-shirt into the bag that was sitting on top of the bed. “I don’t think I’m welcome to stay.”
I walked into the room and took hold of his arm. Even in all the drama, the feeling of his skin beneath my fingers warmed my blood. “Yes, you are. James is drunk.”
Dave paused and looked at my hand. Then he reached over and gently removed it. “I’ve ruined your friend’s wedding.”
“No, you haven’t. James was the one who tried to hit you, but it was my fault too.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I was too nice! Like always. I should have told James I wasn’t interested, but I didn’t. So don’t blame yourself.”
He turned to me and put his hands on my shoulders. I shivered.
“So you’re going to take all the blame instead?” he asked.
I shrugged under the weight of his hands. “Isn’t that what nice girls do?” Oh God, I loved how the skin of his palms was just a little bit rough. It made me imagine what they would feel like touching the skin on my stomach. I let out a shaky breath. “What were we talking about again?”
He laughed softly and one of those hands moved around to rest on my neck, his thumb tracing circles in the back of my hair.
I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. Licked my lips. “Have I mentioned I love your thumb?” I said, sounding a bit groggy.
“You haven’t got to know my fingers yet.”
My eyes flew open in shock. His laughter was wicked this time but it didn’t last long because his mouth was on mine.
I lost myself to the kiss, drowning in the taste of him. To my dismay, he broke it off.
“We can’t. Not now,” he said gruffly.
I groaned and looked up at the ceiling. He was right. I could feel my chest moving up and down, my breathing labored after only one small taste of him. I sighed and dropped my eyes, then sucked in my breath.
He was watching the movement of my breasts under the sheer fabric of the dress.
“Dave?”
He met my eyes. Oh. What was it about those eyes? When he’d been faced with James, they’d been dangerous. Now they held a slow burning intent. He turned and walked to the door, then closed it quietly.
“Dave?” I asked again.
“Forgive me, but I need to taste you.”
He pressed me against the back of the door with a soft ‘oof.’ His hand was at my throat, his other hand at my hip. He held me gently, but firmly, and then savored the delicate skin on my neck like I was the best thing he’d ever tasted. I’d never thought of myself as edible before but right now I wouldn’t have cared if he thought I was a main course. I just wanted his lips on me.
His hand journeyed from my neck to my shoulder, then to my breast. I was right. The rugged feel of his skin was electrifying. His thumb found my
nipple through the fabric.
I moaned. His lips were still at my neck and his tongue was tracing a path of fire along my skin.
I reached around and grabbed his hips so that I could feel the hard outline of his hipbones. God, this wasn’t fair. I wanted him – no, I needed him – and I had no idea how I’d ever have the self-control to be able to stop.
His hand slipped beneath the fabric of my dress and he cupped my breast, making me arch up underneath him.
“Dave,” I whined.
He broke away and met my eyes. “Cate?” He sounded breathless and I was glad I wasn’t the only one.
“I don’t want you to stop,” I blurted.
He smiled – a genuine Dave happy face – and I almost felt like crying. He was killing me.
“Lift up your skirt then.”
I stared at him.
He kept grinning at me. When I didn’t say anything, he raised any eyebrow. “Yes or no?”
I nodded slowly, although I still didn’t move and I sure as hell couldn’t speak. The answer was most definitely yes, but if this is what happened to me after a few kisses from this man, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for what was coming next.
“Oh, you want me to do it, huh?” He crouched down in front of me and located the hem of the dress. He held the edge with both hands and then slowly, painfully, slid the fabric up my calves.
I actually whimpered, and his laughter lines deepened. When he reached my knees, he stopped and looked up at me.
“You want me to keep going?” he asked.
I let out a tight laugh. “No, stop now, why don’t you?” I suggested, finally finding my voice. God, there was something so sexy about having a man kneeling in front of you.
“Not a chance.” He slid the fabric up my thighs and paused just before he revealed my underwear.
“Dave, please,” I whispered.
With a knowing smile, he shoved the material above my hips. “Hold the dress,” he instructed.
I did as I was told because, let’s face it, I would have done practically anything he asked right now.
He ran that rough palm over my lacy pants. “Nice, but they’re in the way.”
I cried out as he tugged them off quickly, dropping them to the floor at my feet. Shakily I stepped out of them and stood watching him, in a state of painful anticipation. I should have cared that I was half-naked, but I didn’t.
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