He stationed himself above her, bowing his head to kiss her and to rub his chest against her breasts.
Instinctively, her fingers found the base of his penis and she guided it to her opening. Miles nudged forward with his hips and sank into her. She shifted her legs, drawing her knees up to meet him thrust for thrust.
A soft moan escaped her lips and he took that as his cue to pick up speed until Sydney sighed with satisfaction.
He was so close. So. Very. Close. But he didn’t want this to be over just yet. Not until she’d had her fill. Miles slipped his hand between their bodies, searching for the soft rise of her mound. He located the bud of her womanhood with his fingertip. Sydney let out a strangled cry.
It had been a long time since a man had taken her to such great heights. As he sank into her again and again and again, Sydney realized she could be very content staying in bed with Miles for the foreseeable future. He was a master at lovemaking, finding spots that she’d never known existed on her body. He had her pleading for more.
She peered up at him and he flashed her a crooked smile.
“You are something else, Sydney. You are so special, you make me lose my words.”
She lifted a finger to his lips. “Then don’t speak. Show me.”
With that, he swiveled his hips, pulled back and then thrust deep into her again and again and again. Moving with a purpose, seeking the apex that was just out of her reach, she looked up to his face. He looked ethereal, like equal parts archangel and tormentor. He was probably a mixture of the two. He was definitely the one who was in control. The way he made her feel, she was more than happy to let him pluck the strings that made her dance.
She pleaded for him to drive her over the edge, and responded by moving faster and faster and faster, until the friction ignited the fuse inside her that exploded like Hollywood special effects as shockwaves of pure, untainted rapture shocked her body.
Even in the midst of her own orgasm, she was fully aware of Miles driving deep into her for the final time and of his deep groan of pleasure in tandem with her own breathless satisfaction as she fought to catch her breath.
Miles collapsed on top of her, and she wrapped her arms around his broad back and welcomed the warmth and weight of him. She felt limp and languid, as if she were a cottony dandelion blossom that would break apart and float into the stratosphere. She had never felt so spent and relaxed in her life.
Until carnal ecstasy began to subside and reality seeped into the cracks of her mosaic heart.
She smoothed her hands over Miles’s broad back and tried to fight off the thoughts that were jeering at her, reminding her that this was a mistake.
Not because she didn’t feel anything for Miles. Au contraire. She already felt too much for him.
Sometimes she was her own worst enemy.
She felt his hot breath on her neck, the smooth skin of his tanned back and felt herself begin to slip down that slippery slope. Because despite how her rational mind was still demanding to know what the hell she’d done, she would’ve been lying if she said she didn’t want to hold him in her arms, just like this, for a very long time.
Yet the interview was in three weeks and he’d be leaving shortly after this. She knew she had no business thinking of a future for the two of them.
If they were going to be together, it meant that someone would have to compromise. She’d learned from experience: compromise bred resentment.
Good Lord, what had she done?
Chapter Twelve
Miles had always been a realist, but over the next week he was all for living in denial. Or maybe a better way to look at it—a healthier way—would be to call it living in the moment.
He and Sydney were in a good place. Since toasting her winning the interview, they made love with such frequency he thought he’d be physically depleted, but somehow he just wanted more. The two of them had spent every night together and they hadn’t spoken a word about the clock that was ticking away the minutes until she would get on the plane that would carry her across the ocean to an event that could decide the fate of their future together.
Or so it might seem. The more time Miles spent with her, the more he realized that even if she went to St. Michel—and there was a good possibility that she would—he didn’t have to let the distance dictate whether or not that would end their relationship.
He’d already decided that it wouldn’t. He hadn’t told Sydney about his decision yet. That would come in good time. This morning they were filming Lily, the weight-watching, pastry-baking schoolteacher, who had captivated the television viewing audience and won the contest. She was Celebration’s Bride, and they were filming her at her final fitting of her bargain dream dress.
Sydney had gone on ahead to prep the bridal salon, whose owner had welcomed the shoot as free publicity, and talk a nervous Lily through the paces.
Lily had only been on camera one other time—when they had introduced her as the winner of the contest. She’d been a natural on camera. She’d been a little talkative, but that was better than a stoic bride and thanks to the beauty of editing, they were able to make the young woman look just as lovely as Sydney insisted they make her look.
“Just be true to her essence,” Sydney had said. Miles was almost certain he understood. To him that translated into don’t make her look bad on camera. Don’t embarrass her.
Sydney was protective of Lily. It took everything Miles had not to point out to Sydney that if she could be this caring for a virtual stranger, she’d make a fabulous godmother to her best friend’s baby. But things were going so well between them he thought he’d let A.J. be the one to bring that to her friend’s attention, if she noticed it.
Right now—in this moment—Miles was guarding his time with Sydney and didn’t want to ruin a good thing. He knew he was being selfish. He would cue A.J. in if he had to—if she didn’t pick up on it first.
All in good time.
The bridal shop was in downtown Celebration. Miles found a spot along the curb and parallel parked his car.
The van that the camera crew used had scored a space in front of the shop and one of the production assistants, Jim, was running from the van back to the store with a reflector as Miles walked up.
“Hey, Jim, how’s it going? Everything ready?”
“I’m glad you’re here. You might want to come inside quickly. We have a situation, and Lenny wants to get it on camera.”
“What’s going on?” Miles asked.
Jim motioned him inside. “Come in and see for yourself.”
When he stepped inside, the first person he saw was Sydney standing with folded arms talking—or more like listening—to Lenny, who was gesturing very animatedly about something.
“Miles!” Sydney walked away from Lenny, who was in midsentence. “Thank goodness you’re here. I need to talk to you.”
She turned to Dan, the cameraman, and said, “Please do not start shooting until Miles gives you the word. Even if Lenny says so.” She shot Lenny a look of death.
“I won’t shoot without the director, Sydney,” said Dan. “No worries there.”
“Thank you, Dan,” she said. “I appreciate your willingness to be a team player. This is a very sensitive subject matter.”
“What is going on?” Miles repeated.
She frowned and grabbed Miles’s arm and directed him outside.
Once the door had closed behind them and they had walked away from the storefront windows to a more private spot, she said, “Lily’s dress doesn’t fit.”
“What?” Miles asked.
“The dress that she’s been working so hard to lose weight to fit into? It doesn’t fit. The seamstress asked Lily if she’d gained weight and she fell to pieces. She’s begging me not to put it on camera, and, of course, Lenny is foaming at the mouth to get in the dressing room with her and record every sob and tear in extreme close-up. I don’t care how much money the man has, he has no decency.”
Miles weighed his
words. “I know you’re not going to like what I have to say and you’re going to think I’m just as heartless as Lenny, but, Syd, this is reality TV. This is what Lily signed up for. The audience wants to see everything that happens to the bride leading up to the wedding.”
He edited himself and didn’t remind her that Lily was getting a free wedding and a cash prize in exchange for letting the show film and air her story.
Sydney collapsed into him and his arms went around her, a protective gesture that was becoming all too familiar.
“This is why I want to leave the show,” she said, in a sudden twist of reasoning that he was trying very hard to follow. “I’m a PR person. I make my clients look good. I don’t air their dirty laundry and failed diets. I can’t in good conscience go in there and tell that young woman she has to humiliate herself in front of hundreds of thousands of people.”
He steeled himself to say the words he didn’t want to say, “But, babe, that’s what she signed up for.”
“I know she did and so did I when I agreed to be on this show. But I hate it, Miles. I am a behind-the-scenes kind of person. I can handle talking to the media to give them the information they need to get a story right, but I can’t abide hurting someone.”
Miles blew out a breath he’d been holding. The professional in him knew they had a crisis that needed to be fixed, and fast, but the personal side of him felt as if he’d been handed a treasure map. Or at least a huge missing piece of the puzzle that was this complicated woman who he was falling in love with.
Maybe it wasn’t so much that she had to leave because it was time to move on, but that she simply hated being thrust into the public eye in a way that made herself and others look bad. In his business, he’d met a lot of people who would sell their soul for five minutes of fame, yet here was a woman who valued her privacy and integrity—and respected that of others—above all else.
That revelation unlocked the piece of his heart that had been in reserve and in that moment, it became whole and completely Sydney’s.
“Don’t worry,” he said, pulling her close. “We’ll figure something out.”
As he held her, she tilted her chin up and he met her lips with a hunger for her that couldn’t be satisfied.
“There you are—oh! Oh, my. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
They broke apart and Miles turned to see his mother and Lucy standing there staring with looks of surprised elation on their faces.
“We heard you all were shooting downtown,” Lucy said. “We decided to come down and check it out. Maybe they should bring the cameras out here. This seems to be where the juicy story is.”
“Lucy!” Deena reprimanded. “You need to mind your own business and mind your manners. I’m sorry, Sydney, dear. Lucy is just a little full of herself today.”
“I’m not,” the girl argued. “They kind of made their romance my business when they decided to make out right here in the open in front of everyone.”
A nervous hiccup of a laugh escaped Sydney’s lips and she covered her mouth with her hand.
“Lucy, really?” Miles narrowed his eyes at her.
“Yes, Miles. Really. When are you going to tell me whether you’ll come speak to my class? The deadline for signing you up is tomorrow.”
“I told you I would if you’re allowed to bring two guests. If not, you need to bring Dad. He has his heart set on this.”
“Miles is right, Lucy,” Deena said. “Your father has been planning his speech for weeks. You know, you sort of did invite him when you mentioned it to him last month.”
“I did not invite Dad.” Lucy stamped her foot. “And I can only bring one person. I don’t want Dad to come. No one wants to be pressured into joining the army. They want to meet you, Miles. They want to hear about your movies and all the stars you’ve met.”
“Well, I’m sorry, Lucy,” he said. “I can’t make it. It’s not that I don’t want to come, but you asked Dad first. That’s the way it has to be. Look, we need to get back inside. We have to work to do.”
Lucy snorted. Miles ignored her, biting back the temptation to tell her to stop acting like a spoiled brat.
“It was nice to see you both, Mrs. Mercer and Lucy,” said Sydney. “I apologize for…” She gestured in the air with her hands. “I suppose that was a bit inappropriate for us to do that out here.”
“Nonsense, dear,” said Deena. “I think it’s wonderful that Miles and you have found each other. I’m just sorry we interrupted you. But you know what? On second thought, you can make it up to us by coming to dinner tonight. It won’t be the big gang. I’ll just be Dad, Lucy and me. Please say you’ll come. The last time you were there everything was so hectic we really didn’t have the chance to get to know you. So, we’ll expect you around seven.”
Sydney shouldn’t have gone to the Mercers’ home for dinner. She knew it, but she went, anyway. She was battling a strange sort of compulsion—she knew she should put some distance between herself and Miles, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
So despite the hectic day—they had finally convinced Lily to allow them to film her wedding dress debacle, with the silver lining that Celebration’s Bridal would allow her to wear any dress she wanted in their shop—here she was.
Sydney had promised that she would ensure that they downplayed the fact that the original dress didn’t fit and play up the part that the bridal shop was giving her the gift of wearing the dress of her dreams. Sydney even convinced Lenny and Aiden to give the shop owner some on-camera time to bestow the gift on Lily herself.
It was a win-win for everyone involved.
That win-win left Sydney exhausted and wanting nothing more than to sink into a hot tub with a glass of wine. And Miles.
But no, as penance for getting caught making out with Miles in front of his sister, mother and the entire town of Celebration, to hear Lucy tell the story, she had to go to dinner with his family.
Miles’s mother was a sweetheart and his sister, well, she was a little challenging, but at least Lucy’s temper wasn’t directed at Sydney. She felt bad for Miles, but at the same time she was glad he wasn’t caving to the girl’s demand. Since relations were rocky with his father in the first place, even Sydney knew that something as small as usurping the coveted career-day spot would only add fuel to the fire of bad blood that already burned between them.
She was amazed at how Miles wasn’t letting that bad blood get in the way of his maintaining relations with his other family members. It wasn’t keeping him from his childhood home or leaching any pleasure he derived from having dinner with his family. Despite the way he and his father had gotten into it the other night, all Miles would say about that was that his father had started in on him about Past Midnight, asking him if he was happy that he’d capitalized on his family’s embarrassment. And Miles merely said, “What’s done is done. I’m not going to rehash something that can’t be changed.”
He left Sydney wondering if he meant the movie couldn’t be changed or the legend that seemed to plague his father couldn’t be changed. But what didn’t escape Sydney was despite how each man seemed to harbor resentment, neither one seemed to really avoid the other. Miles still went to the house, ate at his father’s table; the elder Miles hadn’t told his son he wasn’t welcome. How much of that was by Deena’s decree, Sydney did not know. It didn’t matter, really, because she wasn’t about to bring it up to her Miles—
Her Miles.
The thought both warmed her from the inside out and terrified her. If she knew what was best for her she’d stop thinking of him that way…as her Miles.
There was no need to dwell on it now, not while they were at his parents’ house and she was helping his mother put dinner on the table. Besides, who could think or rationalize with Lucy starting up again about career day? The child was persistent. Sydney had to hand her that.
As Deena called everyone to the table, Miles and Lucy were deep in discussion. To Sydney’s surprise, the girl se
emed to be listening, rapt, to whatever it was Miles was saying. Her entire demeanor had changed from the haughty teenager who had stamped her foot earlier that day, demanding her own way.
Sydney wondered what he was saying, but then guessed it must be some Hollywood talk. But come to think about it, he didn’t talk much about his life in California. He didn’t name drop and he certainly never put on airs. Maybe he was pulling out the arsenals to get his sister in a good place so that they could have a nice dinner. It might get a little awkward if she started hounding Miles about career day in front of her father. Worse yet, if she started spouting some of the same stuff she’d been saying today—about not wanting her dad to come—it could get downright confrontational.
She said a silent prayer for a peaceful dinner and took her place at the table next to her Miles. An oil painting of a mountain scene graced one wall. To the right, above a traditional cherry-wood sideboard adorned with silver candlestick holders and a silk floral arrangement, hung a grouping of family photos. She picked out Miles’s school picture instantly. Slightly faded now, it had probably been taken in about the third or fourth grade. Even back then, he had the same mischievous brown eyes and lopsided smile that tugged at her heart. If he fathered Miles Mercer V, that’s what the boy would look like. The thought made her smile.
For tonight’s dinner, they had taken the leaves out of the table that when set at full mast could seat twenty. Tonight, it had been broken down to an intimate table for six, even though they were only using five places. Deena and the elder Miles were each at the heads of the table. Miles was at his mother’s left, Lucy was at her right. That left Sydney at the elder Miles’s right.
Deena was doing her best to keep up a polite level of conversation that wasn’t so involved that it kept them from chewing their food or forced them to talk with their mouths full; basically she filled what could’ve been awkward silence.
Harlequin Special Edition July 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Marooned with the MaverickHer McKnight in Shining ArmorCelebration's Bride Page 49
