The Bachelor Pact Box Set

by Rita Herron

  His hands kneaded her breasts, stroking and teasing, sending pinpoints of pleasure so intense it was almost painful rippling through Lucy's body. She arched her back, threw her hair over her shoulder, and groaned.

  But a pair of headlights flickered in her eyes, nearly blinding her. She hesitated, her breath catching for a moment. Was it the police?

  Oblivious, Reid began to inch her dress up her thigh, but Lucy spotted the car door opening. A tall, dark-haired man exited. Dag-nab it. Peter.

  What the heck was her mother's old lover doing here?

  Reid had her dress pushed up to her waist and was sliding aside her panties with torturous fingers. As much as she hated to stop, she had to. If Peter barged in, revealed his identity, and ruined things for Sophie, Sophie might think Lucy had had something to do with his arrival. Or she'd blame Deseree.

  And what if Peter blurted out the truth about the Diva act?

  She had promised Sophie to keep her secret.

  "Reid, honeydoll." Sophie caught his hands. "We have to stop."

  His hands froze on her bare thighs, his body jerking with need. "Why?"

  "See that man walking up the drive?"

  Reid nodded.

  "I... I have to find out what he wants."

  "I don't understand."

  Lucy searched for a reply, opting for a half truth. "He's someone we know from Vegas."

  Reid's face contorted with a mixture of emotions: anger, confusion, maybe a hint of jealousy? "An old boyfriend?"

  Lucy bit her lip and smoothed down her dress, untangling her foot and searching for her shoe on the floor of the SUV. "Let's just say he could be trouble."

  Pulling her pump on, she jumped from the Tahoe and teetered up the drive, hoping to catch Peter before he ruined things for her and Sophie. But Peter had already opened the door and was stepping inside.

  She was so flustered she didn't realize that Reid had followed her until the three of them stood in the foyer together. A clunking sound echoed from the den, and Lucy glanced at the sofa.

  No Lance or Sophie. Then a banging sound echoed from behind the furniture and a sock flew over the couch.

  "Sophie?" Peter said.

  "Lance?" Reid croaked.

  Sophie's head bobbed up from behind the sofa. "Peter?"

  Lance's head came next. "Reid?"

  Then Lance turned to Sophie and asked, "Who the hell is Peter?"

  Peter stepped forward, running a hand through his shaggy head of black hair. "I flew in from Vegas for Sophie's show on long-lost lovers."

  Chapter 14

  Shock stole Sophie's breath. What the devil was Peter doing here? For goodness' sake and in those black leather pants and that silk shirt that made him look like some kind of Hollywood pimp?

  Besides, he wasn't a long-lost lover. He was one of Deseree's live-ins, a stripper who'd danced with Sophie and Lucy in the Diva act.

  And why had he shown up now, when she and Lance had finally gotten so close to making love?

  Speaking of close, she shoved her arms back into the sleeves of Lance's shirt, vaguely cognizant of the fact that he was hastily redressing himself, and that his movements were terse and angry.

  "I came about the show, Sophie." Peter's voice echoed with false hurt, but Lance stiffened, obviously believing Peter's act. "But it looks as if my timing is off."

  "An understatement," Lance muttered.

  Sophie spied his mutinous frown from the corner of her eye. He stuffed his shirt into his jeans in a hurried movement, not bothering to hide the fact that they'd been getting down and dirty. She inched up behind him, conscious that she was wearing a man's shirt, and that her legs and body were bare beneath, bare and still tingling with Lance's loving touches and kisses. Leaving that desire unsated was doing irritating things to her insides, too.

  Compared to Peter, Reid and Lucy looked slightly unkempt, a fact that registered milliseconds before Lucy cheerfully offered to make coffee.

  "I'm not here for coffee," Lance said in a dark voice, his intense look reminding her that he'd refused the offer earlier and said he wanted something else. That something had been her, and she desperately wanted the entire motley crew to disappear so she could give him what he wanted.

  What they both wanted.

  "Just exactly whose long-lost lover are you?" Reid asked in a voice that sounded surprisingly territorial.

  Sophie caught the unprepared look in Lucy's eyes and they exchanged a silent moment of panic.

  Peter's blue eyes twinkled. "Maybe you should ask the Lane girls."

  "Lucy's," Sophie said.

  "Sophie's," Lucy said at the same time.

  The silence that yawned between them reeked of tension and lies. Peter had the audacity to chuckle.

  "You both dated him?" Lance asked.

  "You shared?" Reid added.

  "No!" Sophie and Lucy shouted at once. Lance crossed his arms and glared at her, while Reid tapped his booted foot up and down.

  "Actually, neither of us dated him," Sophie said.

  The Summers men must have taken her comment the wrong way, because both of their expressions turned lethal. She couldn't blame them. After all, in his black clothing with his shoulder-length hair, shark tattoos, and biker jacket, Peter resembled a porn star.

  Lucy jumped in to throw Sophie a lifeline. "It's not what you think, boys, so simmer down."

  Sophie could not deal with this right now; nor could she deal with admitting the truth to Lance and watching disappointment darken his face. She had created a name for herself in Savannah, a decent reputation that she intended to keep by burying her past.

  She had to in order to fulfill her goals.

  "Lance, please try to understand," she implored softly.

  "How can I understand when you haven't explained anything?"

  Sophie gripped his arm. "Maybe you and Reid had better leave, so Lucy and I can straighten this out with Peter. Then I'll explain."

  He turned to her and brushed a knuckle across her cheek, and she realized she was asking the wrong man to leave. But Lance would return tomorrow to work on her house. They could talk then.

  Peter needed to be dealt with right away. She and Lucy had to get their stories straight before everything she'd worked so hard to achieve blew up in her face.

  * * *

  As soon as Lance and Reid left, Sophie cornered Peter. She liked order, wanted everything in her life in its place, and Peter disrupted that order to no end. "What in the devil's name are you doing here?"

  Peter gave her mischievous grin. "I told you I came for the long-lost lovers episode tomorrow."

  "You are not anyone's long-lost lover." She skimmed her eyes over his outfit. "And did you have to dress like you were going to a Saturday-night pimp-and-ho party?"

  "I like my clothes." Peter sat down in a chair and stretched out, leaning back and making himself comfortable.

  Sophie stabbed a finger in his direction. "Don't get too comfortable; you're not staying."

  "All right, I'll leave as soon as you give me what I want."

  "You're here for money?"

  Peter shook his head. "No, I want to be on TV. I heard about a new soap one of the networks is going to be filming. I want a part on it."

  "You're leaving the Diva act?" Lucy asked.

  Peter shrugged. "It's time for a change."

  "You mean Deseree threw you out," Sophie said wryly.

  "No, I want a career move."

  "They don't film soaps in Savannah," Sophie said.

  "My agent said there's a talent scout here looking for new talent. He was on your show the other day, and I want to meet him." Peter grinned.

  Sophie closed her eyes and massaged her temple. "I don't have any contacts with that scout, and if I did, I wouldn't want to see him again. He might recognize me from Vegas."

  Peter hooked his thumbs together and flattened his hands behind his head. "So?"

  "So no one here knows about my life in Vegas, and I intend to keep it
that way."

  "Ahh." Peter tapped his head. "That's why you didn't want your boyfriend to know who I was."

  "He's not my boyfriend."

  Peter arched an eyebrow. "How about you, Lucy?"

  "Reid was just showing me a good time."

  Peter pointed to her tousled hair. "Looks like both of you were having fun." He winked at Sophie. "I've never seen you like this about a man. Are you going to marry him?"

  "Marry him? He was barely speaking to me a few days ago."

  "A man doesn't have to talk to get his message across."

  "Wanting sex and marriage are not the same things, and you know it." Sophie paced across the room. "What am I going to do? He thinks you and I... that we..."

  "I could talk to him."

  "And tell him what? That you and my mother enjoyed a few nights together?" Sophie pounded her hand on her chest. "Oh, yes, that'll impress him."

  "Why do you want to impress this guy, anyway? You don't think he'll love you for yourself?"

  Sophie froze, his question hitting home. "It's not that, exactly." Or was it?

  "You're ashamed of your mother?"

  Sophie winced. "It's not that, exactly, either."

  "Then what, Sophie? He won't approve of the fact that you used to dance in Vegas? My God, your act was famous. Every man in the city wanted to jump your bones."

  Sophie threw up her hands in frustration. "Exactly my point. Not only didn't I grow up with a Cosby mom, but my early career is not something I want to flaunt." Tears crowded her throat. "Don't you understand? I'm trying to make a serious reputation for myself here."

  "At the expense of forgetting your family and your roots?"

  Sophie stared at the door where Lance had left, a silent war waging within her. She couldn't have it both ways, could she?

  * * *

  "What are we going to do about the model boy?" Reid asked the next morning. They had met for breakfast to review some additions Chase had made on the drafts for model homes in case McDaniels changed his mind and agreed to meet with them.

  Lance growled into his coffee, an image of that black leather-clad milksop surfacing. He'd spent the better part of the night thinking about him at the sleep clinic. And this morning he'd watched the video they'd filmed of him when he'd finally fallen asleep. He'd been cursing the man. Sophie's name had cropped up several times, too.

  "Lance?"

  He'd forgotten his brother's question, then remembered he'd said we. "What do you mean, 'we'? Are you really interested in Lucy?"

  Reid shook the packet of creamer against the counter. "Uh, slip of the tongue. I meant what are you going to do about Sophie?"

  "What can I do?" Lance bit off the end of a bear claw. "If she wants to be with that wimpy-looking pretty boy or take another job and move away, I can't stop her."

  Chase grunted. "You could if you wanted her bad enough."

  Lance glared at him, tempted to mutter some blistering remark about the strangling confines of marriage, but remembered Chase was married to Maddie, and if Chase agreed with him, he'd have to pulverize him. "I wonder if he spent the night with them."

  "I wonder which one he wants," Reid said, still thumping the creamer.

  Chase grabbed the packet and tossed it across the table. "You two are pathetic."

  "Thanks for your support," Lance said.

  "Yeah, who asked you?" Reid snarled.

  "If you want Sophie, Lance, don't give up so easily. Romance her. Wine her, dine her."

  "I'm not the wining-and-dining type." He sipped his coffee. "That's the reason I stayed away from her so long in the first place. She would fit in L.A., not me."

  "You can fit in any place you want. Go on; ask her for a date."

  "I took her a rose, but she had a dozen already from some guy she met through that dating service."

  "All right, maybe he has more money, but think of something else."

  Lance finished his coffee, then hauled his butt up for a refill. The images that had tortured him the night before surfaced again—Peter in bed with Sophie, tasting and touching her skin the way he'd planned to do.

  Chase was right. He had to do something. If Sophie decided to move away or hook up with that Peter guy, he might lose her forever. And he didn't want that...

  He just hoped it didn't take him a month to think of an idea. He cut his gaze back to his brother, who had picked up another packet of creamer and started beating it to death.

  What exactly was going on between Reid and Lucy?

  * * *

  Reid jumped into his Tahoe and drove toward the Skidaway site, his gut pinched. Maybe the coffee was getting to his stomach, or maybe something had been wrong with that sausage he'd eaten, because nausea gripped him in its clutches. In fact, the more Chase and Lance had talked about that Peter guy and Lance romancing Sophie, the more his stomach had cramped. Come to think of it, he'd felt sick the day Chase and Maddie had gotten married, had actually had a spell when he thought he couldn't breathe, as if the thought of being tied down to one person forever might suffocate him.

  Not that he was considering it.

  But he had a feeling Lance was heading down that track. Poor guy.

  Not Reid—he was simply having fun with Lucy. He wanted to sleep with her in a bad way, but that was all there was to it.

  So, why did a red-hot rage seize you at the thought of her spending the night with an old lover?

  Irrational jealousy? No, protective instincts. The guy had seemed like a sleaze, the type to play on a girl's sympathies, sweet-talk her into the sack, then steal her cash out from under her.

  And Lucy and Sophie both seemed naive, trusting.

  He remembered the feel of Lucy's legs wrapped around him, the way she'd gyrated her rear into his sex, the way she'd looked dancing that day in that black leotard.

  No, naive wasn't quite the word to describe Lucy. But sweet—yes, she was sweet. Sweet and delicious and the sexiest woman he'd had the good fortune to meet.

  And he still hadn't bedded her.

  His upbringing kicked in. Lucy and her sister were women, and women needed protecting, especially from guys who looked like Peter Wolf or whatever his name was. Maybe he'd talk to Maddie later, and see what she knew about the dude. Maddie and Sophie were close, so Sophie would listen to her, and Lucy would listen to Sophie.

  His stomach eased up slightly now that he had a plan.

  * * *

  Maddie phoned Sophie before she could leave for the show. "Okay, spill all."

  "What do you mean?" Sophie asked.

  "Chase had breakfast with my brothers, and they're both out of sorts over this hunky guy Peter. I knew steering Courtney to Lance would do the trick."

  Sophie dropped her head onto her arm and groaned. "Last night was a disaster."

  Maddie squealed. "Tell me all about it."

  "Well," Sophie began, "after Lance left Courtney, he stopped by here, and I was ready for bed—"

  "You were wearing something sexy?"

  "One of Lance's shirts that he left here."

  "Oh, perfect."

  "I couldn't resist." Sophie sighed. "It smells like Lance, Maddie. I'm so pathetic."

  "No, you're not; you're my best friend, and I want you to be happy. Now go on."

  Sophie wiped at a drop of condensation on her diet Coke can. "Lance said he came to apologize for hurting my feelings; then he acted all weird."

  "Weird how?"

  "Like he might have changed his mind about us being together."

  "I told you." Maddie clapped her hands. "The rules are working."

  "I haven't been trying to trap him, Mad, but he looked so handsome, and I was almost naked in his shirt, and then he kissed me, and, well... things got way out of hand."

  "But I told you to play aloof." Maddie sounded distressed.

  "I couldn't help myself. I poured him a glass of wine, and I had one, but we never got to it, because he is so hot and, well, he said 'please.' "

  Maddie's
laughter bubbled over the line. "Lance can be charming when he's not being all macho, overprotective, bossy, and big brotherly."

  Sophie wanted to laugh, but the memory of Lance's hands on her stirred an ache deep inside her. Nothing brotherly about his touches...

  "So how far did you go? Rule number five—getting sweaty and half-naked is allowed, but no consummation, right?"

  "Actually, there would have been consummation if Peter hadn't shown up when he did. We were on the floor behind the couch, but I didn't care, and Lucy and Reid ran in behind him... it was so embarrassing."

  "I can imagine Reid and Lance in a standoff with your friend Peter. A volcano erupted, huh?"

  "Lance controlled himself, but he wasn't happy, and I had no idea how to explain Peter, especially when he claimed to have come here for my 'Long-lost Lovers' episode today."

  "This just gets better and better." Maddie lowered her voice to a whisper. "Then what happened?"

  Sophie chugged her soda. "I asked Lance to leave so I could talk to Peter."

  Maddie roared. "Perfect. I bet Lance was awake all night wondering what you were doing."

  "You don't think I made a major mistake, then?"

  "Are you kidding? I couldn't have scripted it better myself, Sophie."

  She hadn't been playing, simply trying to give herself time to concoct a believable story.

  "Now, Sophie, just remember, stick to the plan. Keep making him swim in circles, and when you think the time is right, go ahead to rule number six: Snag him with the line, and don't let go."

  "In other words, keep him sated."

  "Right," Maddie chimed.

  Sophie smiled, thankful for her best friend's encouragement. She desperately wanted to hurry up and get to the sated part.

  * * *

  Lance had finally come up with a plan. A corny one perhaps, but it was the best he could manage, considering he was sleep-deprived, sex-starved, and brain-impaired. He would set his scheme in motion tonight.

  That is, provided the milksop black panther loverboy wasn't there to interfere. The mere thought of him cranked Lance's blood pressure up to the boiling point.

  By the time he arrived at Sophie's house that morning, she had already left. He wondered if she'd intentionally done so to avoid him, but knew she had to prepare for the show.