The Bachelor Pact Box Set

by Rita Herron

  "I grew up here, but I've never done a lot of the tourist things," Lance admitted. "And I didn't pay much attention to history and stuff like that in school."

  "You weren't a good student?"

  Lance's low chuckle reverberated through the wind. "Hardly. I'm sure Maddie's filled your ears with stories about me and Reid and Chase. The Terrible Three."

  "Actually, she made you sound pretty wonderful." One reason Sophie had fallen in love with him. But she bit back the words, knowing Lance wasn't prepared to hear them. Would he ever be?

  He nuzzled her neck. "What about you—were you a good student?"

  Sophie smiled to herself. "A regular bookworm."

  "Why am I not surprised? You're perfect now; you were perfect back then."

  Sophie swallowed, uncomfortable. "I'm not perfect, Lance."

  "Really?" He nibbled at her ear. "Tell me one bad thing you did."

  She'd kicked one of Deseree's boyfriends in the shin because she hadn't liked his mullet haircut, but she didn't particularly want to share that experience. "I took Maddie to that nudist colony last year."

  "I know and that about near drove me and the guys crazy." He growled and stiffened, then relaxed. "But I didn't mean last year; I meant as a kid."

  "My childhood wasn't very interesting, Lance. We moved around a lot. That's one reason having a place to call home is so important to me."

  "Makes sense."

  The band slowed down to a love song, and people filtered onto the dance floor. Lance took her hand. "Dance with me."

  Sophie nodded, grateful for the reprieve from sharing her past as she slipped into his arms. Their bodies swayed together seductively, every step and move heightening their awareness of each other.

  Sophie didn't want the romantic cruise to end, yet at the same time she counted the minutes. Something to look forward to.

  Nothing would ruin the night—no Peter, no Lucy, no Deseree. Nothing.

  Not even the ghosts in the attic or the ghosts from her past.

  Chapter 18

  By the time they arrived at Sophie's, Lance and Sophie were pawing at each other's clothes. "Do you want coffee?" Sophie whispered as he pulled at her tank top.

  "No, nothing except you."

  Her top landed on the foyer table, her skirt a puddle near the first step in the hallway, his shirt and jeans tossed somewhere along the staircase as they kissed and climbed toward Sophie's room and sweet oblivion.

  Lance felt intoxicated from her heady kisses, his body thrumming with hunger at every soft moan and nibble of her mouth on his body. Sophie dragged him into her bedroom, but he hesitated, wondering if he was moving too fast.

  Jazzy lay in the center of her bed, with that same snarl.

  "Baby, you have to go out now." Without blinking, Sophie lifted the cat and set her outside the door, then shut them into their own private cocoon.

  Ridiculous relief filled him that Sophie hadn't chosen her cat over him. Then Lance feasted on her near nakedness, a surge of emotion engulfing him at the look of unbridled passion in her eyes.

  Sophie's nipples beaded at his hungry appraisal. "All day I've been thinking about what you said last night about anticipation."

  Lance chuckled and reached for her bra strap, sliding it down inch by inch. "Honey, I didn't sleep a wink last night for imagining being with you."

  Seconds later her glorious breasts bounced into view. Lance claimed his prize, torturing her again with slow, erotic kisses on her mouth and neck before dipping below to feast on the soft mounds of her breasts. Sophie wiggled and clung to him, moaning and tossing her head back in wild abandon.

  Then he was kissing lower, trailing hot, fiery need in the wake of his tongue's delicious dance until he had her naked. He pushed her back on the mountain of pillows, crawling above her to slide his body against hers in torture. Sophie writhed and tugged at his boxers until he flung them to the floor. Then they lay naked, entwined in each other's arms. His erection pulsed between her thighs, aching for home, but he didn't want to rush the pleasure, so he stroked her folds with the tip, his heart pumping wildly at the way she thrust her hips in a plea for completion.

  She flipped him over and Lance lay stunned as she coaxed his hands away, then climbed on top of him. Giving him a sassy look of pure feminine attitude, she lowered her head and teased him with her tongue the way he had her, starting with his mouth, then trailing hot kisses down his chest. She even paused and tortured his nipples, biting at them until he bucked up and nearly came. He groaned and tried to lift her, but she slid down his body and traced her tongue along the tip of his sex. His body damn near convulsed off the bed.

  "Sophie, hon—"

  "Shh, just enjoy."

  A second later she'd taken him in her mouth, and he thought he would explode. He allowed himself only the briefest of pleasure before he stopped the torment by reversing their positions. Beneath him, she stared up at his face, breathless, her cheeks red with heat. He looked into her fiery green eyes then and knew he was lost, but he didn't care.

  He sank himself inside her, thrusting gently until he filled her, cupping her hips into his palms and urging them closer together, until they were one. Sophie's moan of pleasure tore through the silence, their bated breaths splintering the tension as he rocked inside her. His tongue danced with hers as their bodies slapped together. Harder, deeper, faster, he moved them toward the gates of heaven until he felt Sophie's insides quivering with the first spasms of release. Then he drove himself harder, deeper, faster, claiming her mouth with his and letting his hands play along her breasts, riding out the storm until they both lay sated in each other's arms, breathless and elated.

  * * *

  Sophie settled into Lance's embrace, her body singing with joy, her heart bursting with love. He curved his arms around her, one of his legs thrown across hers, and she draped an arm over his chest, snuggling against him as they both fell asleep.

  Sometime in the early hours of the morning, she woke to feel his lips trailing kisses along her face. She giggled and kissed him back, instantly coming awake with sensations when he climbed above her and slid inside her again. This time their joining was both gentle and quick, but so sweet that tears pressed against her eyelids. Then once again he cradled her in his arms as they fell into a blissful sleep.

  Breakfast in bed a few hours later turned into a tempting feast of food and coffee and lovemaking. Afterward, they lay in bed and leisurely read the morning paper together.

  "I should get up and work on the floors today," Lance said.

  "But you look so comfortable."

  "I am." Lance hugged her to him. "That's the best night's sleep I've had in weeks. But there's still a lot of work left to do on the renovations."

  "You're not in a hurry to finish my house, are you?"

  He chuckled and dropped a kiss on her nose. "Yes and no. I'm anxious to see the finished product, but I like hanging around here."

  It was as much of an admission as she supposed she would get. Would a few more dates convince him that they belonged together forever?

  "Then let's just hang out today."

  He nuzzled her neck. "All right. We could go over to Tybee Island, take a picnic, charter one of the boats and see the marshland, eat at Williams Seafood."

  "Is that one of the dates in the balloons?"

  Lance nodded. "The yellow one."

  Sophie kissed him. "Sounds perfect."

  "Good, and while we lie on the beach, you can tell me more about yourself." Lance fingered a strand of hair from her forehead. "I want to know all about you, Sophie."

  Sophie hesitated. "What kind of things do you want to know?"

  "You've never talked about your family." He laid the paper aside and threw an arm around her. "Or how you came to Savannah to work on the show, what you did before."

  Sophie clutched the covers, anxiety clawing at her as she struggled with how to answer him. The telephone trilled, sidetracking them both. Hoping it wasn't Peter or Deseree
or George or Rory, she checked the caller ID. Maddie.

  Sophie grabbed the phone, then pulled on a silky robe and sat cross-legged on the bed beside Lance. His hand moved to massage her neck, and she stifled a groan, then whispered for him to stop. "Hey, Maddie, what's up?"

  "You tell me, girl. Are you and my brother doing what I think you're doing?"

  "Probably. Well, not this second."

  Maddie squealed. "I knew those rules would work. He spent the night; that's a good sign."

  "It is, isn't it?" His hand slipped down to cradle her breast, and Sophie batted it away.

  "Absolutely." She heard Maddie clapping her hands. "Now, remember the next rule. Keep him sated."

  Sophie tugged at the sheet, lowering it so she could enjoy the view of male muscle in her bed. "Don't worry; I'll do my best."

  She laughed, then hung up the phone and slid back onto the pillows to fulfill her promise. As long as she kept Lance happy in bed, he couldn't ask any more questions.

  * * *

  The next week flew by. Lance spent his days working on Sophie's house, his evenings taking romantic strolls along the riverfront with Sophie, trying out different Savannah restaurants, and discussing her house. Afterward, they'd share a nightcap at one of the local pubs, then return to Sophie's and make love.

  He had never slept so peacefully in his life. Apparently his insomnia was cured. As long as he slept with Sophie....

  His mind wandered back to the busy week. Monday night they had taken the book tour based on Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and eaten breakfast at Clary's Cafe, just as Luther Driggers, the eccentric character in the book, had done. Plates of pecan waffles, sausage biscuits with gravy, and country ham had been delicious. Tuesday they enjoyed live music at an outdoor table at Malone's, then dropped by the Six Pence Pub for a nightcap. Wednesday they took a carriage ride tour and dined at the fabulous Oyster Bar. Thursday night they toured a special showing by the Savannah College of Art and Design. At a neighboring antique store, Sophie bought a replica of a revolutionary war painting to hang in the dining room. He had suggested taking one of the casino cruise ships out for Las Vegas-style gambling, but Sophie had opted for a walk in Wormsloe State Historic Park, claiming she wasn't a gambler.

  His persistence had finally paid off that week and earned him a meeting with McDaniels. Lance had been a half hour early and wowed the businessman with the blueprints Chase had drawn up, as well as the ideas he and Reid and Chase had outlined. McDaniels was strongly considering giving them the job, a multimillion-dollar contract that would put their company on the map and assure them financial security. It was also a long-term commitment.

  He and Chase and Reid had met for drinks to discuss the meeting.

  "I think it's in the bag," Chase said. "No one else has given detailed thought to the historical aspects of the location the way we have."

  "I agree." Reid raised his beer for a toast. "Let's have dinner and celebrate."

  Chase squirmed on his seat. "I sort of promised Maddie we'd go out tonight. She's been working so hard this week, and she's been really tired."

  "Sophie and I have plans, too," Lance said.

  Reid made a clicking sound with his teeth. "How's it going with her, man?"

  Lance sipped his beer. "We've been dating all week."

  "Is she as good as you expected?" Reid asked.

  Chase poked him, and Lance frowned. "A gentlemen never tells."

  Chase raised a brow. "You getting serious with her?"

  Lance stared into the amber bottle. Sophie had certainly welcomed him into her arms and her bed each night, and they'd had great fun together, and mind-boggling sex, but... "I don't know; it seems like she's holding something back from me."

  Reid waved at the bartender for another beer. "What do you mean? She doesn't get into sex the way you do?"

  "No, it's not that." Lance dabbed a spot on his shirt with his napkin. "I can't put my finger on it. She's great, and loving, and so damn sexy... but every time I ask her about her family or her past, she diverts my attention."

  "You mean she changes the subject?" Chase asked.

  "Actually"—Lance hesitated, knowing his complaint sounded weird—"she jumps my bones."

  "And that's a problem?" Reid asked in an incredulous tone.

  Lance gave a sardonic laugh. "I know it sounds strange but—"

  "But you want more?" Chase said.

  Lance sighed. "I guess so." He stared into his beer, wondering if he was crazy. Last year he would have been thrilled to have this kind of relationship. Sometimes he sensed Sophie really cared for him, maybe even loved him, but then she'd pull away. "There must be something wrong with me. I never felt this way before."

  Chase slapped him on the back. "I understand completely."

  Lance jerked his head up and stared at his friend. "What do you mean?"

  "I hate to tell you this," Chase said, "but you're in love, buddy."

  Lance realized he held his beer bottle in a death grip. Was it possible—could he be in love with Sophie? And if he was, what was he going to do about it?

  * * *

  As Reid watched Lance leave the bar, he scouted out the women, searching for one who sparked his interest. All week long he'd had these crazy dreams about Lucy Lane.

  Lucy Lane on top of him, doing wicked and delicious things to his body with her tongue. Then Lucy sliding over him, him pushing into Lucy's warm, wet body... Lucy crying out his name in the throes of a mind-blowing orgasm.

  He had tried to ban the images from his mind, but they came to him unbidden at the most inopportune times of the day. Yesterday he'd had a flash of her sinking onto his sex, and he'd nearly fallen off the roof of the house. This morning he'd seen her long strawberry-blond hair draped over his stomach and watched her go down on him, and he'd been so rattled, he'd almost walked through a plate-glass window. And on the way to the bar, he'd had fantasies of her naked and writhing beneath him. When reality surfaced, he'd nearly hit a semi, so he'd swerved, overcompensated and nearly run off the bridge into the ocean. The thought of becoming shark food over a woman was too much....

  "What's up with you, Reid?" Chase pulled cash from his wallet to pay the bar bill. "You're awfully quiet."

  Reid shrugged. "Thinking about Lucy." Lucy having sex with him. Lucy chanting to the moon to hex him. Lucy destroying his sex life with other women. She was going to kill him....

  Chase threw his head back and laughed. "What the hell, you fell for Sophie's sister, didn't you?"

  "No," Reid barked. "Hell, no."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "She does all this hocus-pocus shit with charms and spells. I think she put a damn curse on me."

  "What kind of curse?" Chase asked.

  Reid chewed the inside of his cheek. "A curse to make me think about her."

  Chase held his belly as laughter shook him. "You mean you believe in that hocus-pocus stuff?"

  "No," Reid growled. At least he didn't think so.

  "Then why would you think she put a curse on you?"

  "Why else would she be on my mind all the time? It's not as if I really like her or anything." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "But I've even been dreaming about her. In the daytime, doing wild things to me."

  "That the reason you're not trying to pick up women today?" Lance leaned an elbow on the bar. "I thought you were off your marker."

  Reid cocked his head in defiance. "I've been looking. But I haven't spotted anyone I wanted to flirt with yet."

  "Right." Chase tossed some money on the table. "Take my advice: If she has you in knots like this, the only way you can get over her is to see her again."

  "We... uh, didn't part on very good terms. That's another reason I think she might have cursed me." Although her other curse seemed to have backfired, because Lance and Sophie seemed to be getting along great.

  He was the one dreaming about Lucy doing wicked things to him, then waking up and having to live with the fact that it
was never going to happen.

  Then again, maybe Chase was right. Maybe he should take a little trip to Vegas and surprise her. He'd force her to remove whatever kind of spell she'd cast on him.

  Then he'd be free of Lucy Lane forever.

  * * *

  Lucy was cursed.

  Everything that could possibly go wrong this week had done so. Her plumbing at her apartment had gone on the fritz, so her toilet had overflowed, not only ruining the carpet but half her collection of designer shoes and two feather boas she used as part of her Diva costumes. She was out five hundred dollars for the plumbing repairs and had to alter one of her numbers for the night until she found the right boas to replace the others.

  Then, on her way in to the Palace, her car had died on the freeway, and she'd been forced to hitchhike a ride with a nice little family from Pasadena who acted as if they'd just escaped a time warp from the seventies. Worse, the teenage son had tried to snitch her watch, while the grandma described her deceased husband's hernia, her false teeth clacking for miles.

  Now she'd arrived at the Palace for the early-evening show and discovered that someone had used her jars of creams and makeup, a major no-no. They'd also forgotten to store them properly, so now her blue eyeshadow had turned black and her powder had hardened into a brick.

  She slammed the makeup drawer shut and borrowed her friend's. Sassafras was a college student, and unfortunately used the cheapest brands because she was too busy paying her slug of a boyfriend's way out of jail and into rehab to pony up for the good hypoallergenic stuff.

  And she needed the good stuff. A showgirl had to take care of her assets.

  She'd scavenged all the charm and spell books she could find for answers, and had no idea why her spells had backfired, unless she was being punished for being selfish and not wanting Sophie to be with Lance.

  Was she being selfish?

  Should she have looked deeper to see what qualities Lance possessed that had attracted Sophie to him? Should she have forgotten her own needs to have her sister close by and accepted that Sophie was grown and gone, and that she was alone and she always would be? Panic seized her. She'd never liked being alone; Sophie had always been there...