by Debra Webb
Moments later when she’d caught her breath and her face had ceased to burn with humiliation, she told herself that it was a good thing. She would never get to sleep with him, much less marry him, but at least she had the best orgasm of her life to remember him by.
That was something.
Chapter Seven
Nate Beckman waited impatiently as the telephone rang for the fifth time. It was early on a Sunday morning, surely Mr. Winterborne hadn’t left for morning services already. He picked up his cup and sipped his coffee, enjoying the warm chicory taste.
Just then the ringing stopped and a rushed voice said, “Winterborne.”
“Good morning, Edgar. Nate Beckman here.” Nate leaned forward in his leather executive chair and scanned the photos scattered across his desk. A satisfied smile slid across his freshly shaven face. Oh, things were working out just fine. Just fine indeed.
“Beckman, is there something wrong, man?”
Ever the loving father, Nate mused. His daughter was always his highest priority. The man definitely needed a partner before he ran his company into the ground. The very idea that he would allow his daughter to run through the major portion of his ready cash flow. What a waste. Nate frowned. He’d been more than a little surprised by the young woman. He hadn’t expected such a well-behaved, seemingly nice girl. He’d expected a wildcat. One who would instantly send John running for the hills.
He looked at the pictures once more, especially those taken by the river. That definitely had not happened. Everything was falling into place.
“No, no, Edgar, all is well. That’s why I’m calling.”
“I’ll be ready for the one o’clock flight. Has there been a change in the itinerary?” Edgar cleared his throat. “I suppose there’s no chance I could speak with my daughter this morning.”
Now came the touchy part. “Actually, Edgar, I was hoping to convince you to delay your arrival until tomorrow.”
“What?” A rattling sound echoed across the line as if he were changing positions or had lunged to his feet. “Why would I want to wait? My daughter is expecting me this afternoon. I don’t see—”
“Let me explain,” Nate interrupted smoothly, before the man worked himself into a complete frenzy. “Things are actually going far better than we could have anticipated. You should see them together. It’s amazing. I’ve never seen two more starry-eyed lovers.”
“Really?” Surprise was cram-packed behind that one word.
“It’s unbelievable. They hit it off almost immediately and yesterday evolved into a smashing success. That’s why I’m calling. I’ve spoken to J.R. and he agrees. We’d like to give them another twenty-four hours alone. We feel it’s imperative that this budding relationship set awhile longer before reality intrudes. Any external presence, you or J.R., might hinder that steady progression. J.R. has agreed to stay clear for the day, if you’ll agree to the same.”
Silence radiated on the other end of the line for several seconds that quickly turned to a full tension-filled minute. Nate had just about decided that the man wasn’t going to go along with the idea when he finally spoke.
“You’re right. We should let this go where it will without interference. I want this to work. I want my daughter to be safe and happy.”
Nate picked up one picture in particular that showed John and Gina picnicking by the water’s edge. The smile on the young woman’s face glowed with happiness. “I don’t think you have a thing to worry about, Edgar. This is definitely going the way we’d hoped. Hell, better than we’d hoped. I’d reached the conclusion that the two merely tolerating each other would be acceptable.”
Edgar sighed. “Yes, that’s all I’d hoped for as well. So you say they’ve truly hit it off?”
“Absolutely. I can hear the wedding bells already.”
“All right then,” Edgar said in finality. “Send your plane for me tomorrow morning around nine your time. I’d like to be at the ranch in time for an afternoon lunch.”
“Done.”
Nate ended the call and leaned back in triumph. He’d known he could make this happen. When he’d first approached J.R. with the idea the man had thought he’d lost his mind. Winterborne had merely laughed at the prospect. He, apparently, knew his daughter too well. Or thought he did. But Nate knew John, he would sacrifice his own comfort and happiness for his father, for the good of the company in a heartbeat. On the other hand, Regina Winterborne had her own reasons for going along with the idea. She wanted to keep her hand in the cookie jar of her daddy’s bank account. Despite the vast difference in their motivations, the end result would be the same.
The finalizing of this merger should call for a hefty bonus, Nate decided. Perhaps he’d put that bug in J.R.’s ear as well. After all, it wasn’t often that one could claim the coup of the century.
Cal-Borne was going to happen and the whole country would benefit from it. Goodbye OPEC. The Middle East would no longer own the top spot in the oil industry. America would.
Nate could see his picture on the cover of Newsweek now. The man of the hour. God bless free enterprise.
He picked up the telephone again and punched in the number for his PI who was keeping an eye on the lovebirds for him. Without getting in the way, Nate wanted to keep tabs on their progress. To ensure all was as it should be.
“Did they sleep together?” he asked when the hushed voice answered.
“Not yet.”
Nate couldn’t help feeling just a tad bit disappointed. He knew John. Knew him well. If he slept with the woman there would be no turning back. Not that the young man hadn’t had one-night stands in the past. He’d had plenty, but John was a man of his word. He would not agree to this merger or this weekend without full commitment. Sleeping with the woman who’d come here to meet the man she was supposed to marry would mean no backing out. John would never go that far and then break the deal.
“But,” his P.I. continued, “if it makes you feel any better there was a rather inspired kiss.”
Nate’s smile returned full force. “Now we’re talking. When did this happen?”
“Last night after they returned home from the country club. Our boy had been willing, but the lady ran for cover. Whatever scared her off, she sure as hell enjoyed that kiss.”
John knew how to charm the ladies. Nate could feel the victory already. A couple more of those kisses and the little lady would be putty in his hands. Just showed that even a hellion like Regina Winterborne could be tamed by the right man. And John Calhoun was a damn good man. He deserved the best in a life partner. Oddly, despite all he’d learned about the lovely Miss Winterborne before meeting her, Nate had a good feeling about the young woman. She came across as genuinely sincere. And, even stranger, he liked her.
That was saying something.
“Good work,” he said to the man waiting on the other end of the line. “Keep me posted.”
After replacing the receiver in its cradle, he allowed a pang of guilt. It was underhanded what he was doing, keeping a watch on the courting couple. But Nate only had John’s best interest at heart. Regina Winterborne had a reputation for abrupt explosions and impetuous decisions. Who knew? Perhaps she had changed her ways. Whatever the case, Nate wasn’t about to leave John on his own with no backup.
The woman, according to the report he’d read on her, was capable of most anything. That she’d impressed him so far didn’t mean that Nate trusted her. He’d read too many pages about her famous exploits.
Regina Winterborne could be trouble.
REGINA STOOD at the far end of the aisle in the garishly decorated chapel and stared toward the podium. She wore a lovely beaded white dress. It had cost a fortune in the little boutique next door. But her daddy could afford it. She’d selected all the accessories as well. Shoes, slinky underthings, including a white lacy garter belt, matching purse and a wide-brimmed hat that looked quite elegant with the ensemble. The gloves and lovely bouquet of mixed flowers were the final touches.
The part that bothered her as she hesitated before walking toward her beloved Kevin was the Elvis impersonator standing by his side at the end of the red-carpeted pathway to her eternity. It wasn’t bad enough that he needed to lose a good fifty pounds or that he’d donned a wildly embellished white jumpsuit. No, he had to sport the sunglasses and the pork-chop sideburns as well.
Add that to the blue velvet wall covering, the sparkling crystal chandeliers, and the white leather chairs spread on either side of the center aisle for friends and witnesses, and it was entirely repulsive.
Regina had only just realized how repulsive.
The two drunken revelers that had been paid to serve as witnesses to the nuptials sat in intoxicated stupors, beer cans still clutched in their hands.
This wasn’t right.
She swallowed tightly and squeezed the neatly wrapped stems in her hands.
Her daddy wouldn’t approve. He’d just die when he found out. She glanced briefly at the Priscilla Presley look-alike waiting close by with a loaded Polaroid camera.
Regina blinked and refocused her attention on Kevin. He smiled widely at her, his eyes questioning. She knew he was wondering why she hesitated. They’d blown half his winnings already, but still had enough for a great honeymoon on the beach in Maui.
But then what?
Her daddy’s words echoed inside her head. The board would run the company and she would get a measly allowance if she didn’t obey his wishes.
A shudder quaked through her.
When he found out—if he didn’t know already—what she’d done, he would be furious. It might even be too late now. He probably had his lawyers drawing up a second codicil to his will at this very moment while she stood in this ungodly Vegas chapel about to be entered into the holy state of matrimony by a man who looked like Elvis.
This just wasn’t right.
“I can’t do this,” she muttered.
Kevin’s eyes widened in shock. “Baby, it’s okay.” He rushed to her, grabbed her by the arms and gave her that puppy-dog look that always won her over. “I love you. We have to get married. It’s destiny.”
For the first time she took a mental step back and really looked at the man. He was thirty. Hadn’t finished college, didn’t have a job. All the things her daddy had warned her about came flooding into her head at once. Kevin would amount to nothing. He would keep her happy in bed, when he wasn’t running off with his friends. Her gaze narrowed. Oh, yes. That was what had ended their last relationship. Well, that and her father’s perpetual interference. And he’d spend her daddy’s money like it was going out of print.
She slowly shook her head from side to side. What in the world had possessed her to make this horrible mistake? She could be in Texas right now being wined and dined by a damn good-looking cowboy who had something to offer other than a hyperactive libido and a criminal lack of ambition.
Uneasiness slid through her at the idea. She wanted to keep her daddy happy but a prearranged marriage might be pushing it. The cowboy would likely want to boss her around. She’d have to live in the middle of nowhere in that godforsaken desert called Texas. Why, they probably didn’t even have a Nordstrom’s for Christ’s sake.
Her brow furrowed in worry. Wait a minute now. Her daddy had said that Dallas had most anything she could ever want, much like Chicago. She’d simply be forced to endure the long ride into the city whenever she wanted to go shopping. Which would be every day she imagined since nothing—absolutely nothing—on a horse ranch could possibly hold her interest for twenty-four hours in a row.
She thrust the flowers in her hand at the man waiting for her to say something. “This isn’t destiny, Kevin.” She squared her shoulders and glared at him from beneath the brim of her high-priced hat. “It’s stupidity. I’m never going to marry you because you have nothing to offer.”
With that said she spun on her heel and marched toward the door. She hesitated at the exit for a second and turned back to her jilted lover who stood watching her with his mouth hanging open in shock. “Call me in Texas sometime. We could have ourselves one hell of an affair. But I will never be married to you.”
And then she left.
She would hurry back to the suite at the hotel, pack up her newly purchased wardrobe—since the clothes she’d packed previously had gone to Texas—and catch the next flight back to Chicago. It might take a while since it was Sunday and the thousands upon thousands of holiday travelers who’d spent the last forty-eight hours losing their hard-earned money here in Sin City would be headed home, but she would wait patiently. Besides, she needed the time.
It would take some serious time to come up with an acceptable excuse to give her father for her behavior this weekend.
Regina grinned. But she would think of something. She always did. And Daddy always forgave her. He would fix this.
He would take care of everything.
AMY SAT stiffly on the pew as the noonday service wound down. She kept her gaze focused straight ahead. She could not look at the man sitting beside her.
She’d spent the entire morning in her room. Had pretended to be still asleep when he knocked softly around ten. But at eleven she hadn’t been able to pretend anymore and she’d spoken to him through the door.
Even with the solid wood panel between them the mere sound of his voice had made her ooze like an ice-cream cone beneath the summer sun. He’d invited her to come to church with him. And for some reason she would never understand she hadn’t been able to say no. The underlying plea in his tone had been more than she could bear to deny.
So she’d retrieved the peach-colored skirt and sweater from the closet and hoped it would do. The color looked nice against her tanned skin. She found thankfully that the sandals worked well enough with it. After dancing half the night in those black high heels she’d been positive she would never be able to stand in them today, much less walk.
A quick shower later and she had been ready to prepare for her first Sunday in church since before she’d gone off to college. Somehow though, she lifted a skeptical eyebrow, the lacy white thong and matching bra just hadn’t looked suitable for church. But they were all she’d had. Apparently Regina Winterborne preferred the slinky things. Give Amy cotton briefs any day of the week.
As she’d slipped on the ultra-sexy underwear her mind had drifted back to last night and that kiss.
A flush of heat, as much from humiliation as from remembered desire, colored her cheeks, coiled deep in her belly. How could she have come like that from just a kiss? Sure, it had been a long time—two years in fact. But good grief, did she have to explode like a lit firecracker when the man kissed her?
He had to have known.
She closed her eyes even now as humiliation crawled through her all over again. There was no way he could have missed her orgasmic moan and the way she’d stiffened then melted in his big, strong arms.
She’d wondered how on earth she would ever look him in the eye again.
Even with that monumental hurdle looming over her she’d tugged on the sweater and her breath had caught as another epiphany slammed into her skull. Today was the day. She had to tell him the truth.
Fear had blasted her, freezing the heat the memory of his kiss had generated. The fantasy was over. She had to come clean before Mr. Winterborne arrived.
She didn’t want John to learn the truth that way.
They’d shared coffee and toast before leaving for the church. Smiling he’d told her that they would have brunch after the service. Then Mr. Beckman had called and announced that her father’s arrival would be delayed until Monday.
Amy had almost been relieved. She’d wondered vaguely why Mr. Winterborne hadn’t asked to speak with his daughter, but her relief had outweighed all other thoughts.
But Winterborne’s postponed arrival didn’t change anything. She had to do the right thing.
Sitting in that church, scared to death the roof would fall in on her, she promised herself that she would tell
John on the way back to the ranch. She’d never be able to do it in front of his father or Liam or Beckman, so it had to be on the ride home.
Home. She almost laughed out loud. This wasn’t her home. He wasn’t her fiancé. Nope. John Calhoun and all that came with him belonged to the real Regina Winterborne wherever she might be.
The man beside her shifted, causing his thigh to rub against hers. Amy closed her eyes and forced away the need that arose from even that innocent touch. She had made a terrible, terrible mistake.
Not only was she going to lose her job.
He was going to hate her.
And she was going to be broken-hearted.
Oh yeah. Her heart was involved already. Maybe it had been from the moment she looked into those incredible blue eyes. She shook her head. Quite possibly she’d fallen for him when she saw the photograph attached to the agency’s report.
His arm settled around her shoulders and his long, blunt-tipped fingers rested against her arm. Her breath caught as their tips brushed her skin. Remembered heat began to swirl low in her belly. Good heavens, she couldn’t be feeling this now…here!
The minister droned on, but Amy didn’t really hear him. Her entire being was focused on the hot, hard body next to her. The way his chest pressed against her arm on the left, the feel of his fingers on her right arm. The length of powerful thigh positioned firmly alongside hers.
She admitted defeat and closed her eyes, allowing the remembered feel of his kiss to invade her being. The hungry draw of his lips. The way he’d tasted her, teased her, and then devoured her like a starving man at a forbidden feast. The feel of his body against hers as he’d drawn her closer. And then that little move he’d made, pulling her pelvis against him in oh such an intimate manner.
Longing rushed through her all over again and her feminine muscles throbbed greedily.
