Bidding On The Billionaire (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 8)

by Christina Tetreault

Brooklyn carried her things into the large bathroom located on the lower level near the door to the deck. By changing in there she could avoid walking through the entire house and possibly bumping into any of the staff.

  The black-and-red bikini remained in the tissue paper the saleswoman had wrapped it in the weekend before. Storing her shorts and tank top on a shelf, she eyed the garment as she unclipped her bra and removed her underwear. “It’ll be fine.”

  She’d intentionally turned her back to the full-length mirror while she’d dressed. With the bikini top secured around her neck and the bottoms on, she closed her eyes and turned. “Just look. No one else is here.”

  She peeled her eyelids open. Well, it wasn’t as bad as she remembered from the dressing room. Turning a bit to the left and then the right, she studied her reflection. She doubted Derek would run screaming when he spotted her. She turned and faced the mirror head-on. Okay, part one was done. She’d gotten the thing on. Part two, getting out there, might take a little more nerve. The lyrics to an old song about a girl wearing a polka dot bikini for the first time surfaced and she giggled. Yep, the song definitely fit the situation.

  Derek glanced over his shoulder again. What was taking her so long? He’d changed and carried down their champagne as well as a platter of assorted cheeses and crackers in case she wanted something other than the food Angelo had set out for them. It didn’t usually take her much time to change. He guessed she was having second and third thoughts about her suggestion. He looked back out at the ocean. Maybe he should tell her not to worry about it, let her wear whatever she was most comfortable in. He didn’t need to see her dressed in some sexy swimsuit to turn him on. Hell, she walked in the room and he became hard. Heaven help him if she walked in wearing something provocative.

  He’d give her a couple more minutes. If she still didn’t come out, he’d go tell her she was off the hook. Derek rested his forearm on his knee and reached for his champagne.

  “Sorry I took so long,” she called from behind his lounge chair. “Did you remember to bring out sunscreen? If not, I’ll grab us some.”

  The second he looked over his shoulder, his chin hit the deck and he almost fell out of his chair. Lunging to his feet, he scrambled to regain some composure. “Warn me next time you’re going to walk out looking like that.”

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, but she kept her arms by her sides. “I brought one of my other suits so I can change if you don’t like this one.”

  He pulled his sunglasses off, removing any barrier between his eyes and the spectacular view Brooklyn provided. “Sweetheart, if I like it any more, I’m going to embarrass myself right here.”

  Her lips twitched and she shot him an expected eye roll.

  “You look incredible. You realize that, don’t you?” He moved forward, all her exposed flawless skin pulling him closer, demanding he touch her. She’d tied the matching sarong around her waist just below her navel. The wisp of cloth taunted him. Dared him to untie it. “I’m glad there is no one around.” Gradually he tugged the knot free, allowing the material to float to the ground. His body grew painfully hard as his blood heated.

  “You and me both,” she said nervously. She tried to press her body against his, but he kept her an arm’s length away.

  “I’m not done looking at you.” His eyes roamed up and down her body, unable to get enough. “Damn it. I always knew you were beautiful, but I never imagined you were hiding this from me.”

  He let his hands do the same as his eyes. Starting at her shoulders, he slid his hands down over her clavicle and to her breasts. At least a D cup, they spilled out of her top and he cupped them both. Her skin was warm and unbelievably soft under his hands. Through the thin barrier, her nipples tightened and pressed against his palms. Looking up, he expected to meet Brooklyn’s gaze, but her eyes were closed and her head slightly tilted back. He didn’t need any further encouragement.

  Derek slid his hands down over her rib cage to her waist. With painstaking slowness, he moved his fingers past her navel toward the deep V of her bottoms. When he reached the spot where skin and fabric met, he stopped. Beneath his fingertips he felt her stop breathing. Rather than go any further, he traced the top of the bottoms for a moment or two before stopping again.

  Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing desire in her eyes. She held his gaze for a moment before dropping to where his fingers rested below her navel. When she swallowed, he dipped one finger beneath the fabric. Unable to prevent it, he groaned as his finger came in contact with the smooth bare skin below it. Adding a second finger, he moved them lower until he found the spot he wanted. Wet heat taunted his fingertips.

  “Tell me what you want, Brooklyn.”

  She moved against him and moaned. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he’d come right there.

  “Come on, sweetheart. I need to hear you say it. What do you want?”

  He watched her swallow several times before moistening her bottom lip. “You.”

  He didn’t need to hear anything else.

  ***

  Derek shifted and propped himself up on one elbow so he could reach his champagne glass. As he sipped the liquid, his eyes ran up and down the woman who remained naked next to him.

  “You’re thinking about something,” she said. “And it’s not that we should finally put on sunscreen.”

  Yeah, they never had gotten around to it. Once he’d touched her, being inside her had been the only thing on his mind. They hadn’t even made it into the house. He’d stripped her bottoms off and made love to her on the padded lounge chair on the deck. Now he wished he’d managed to wait at least long enough to get them to a bed. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed every second of it. He had. It’d been as if he’d waited his whole life to make love to this woman.

  But she’d been a virgin. How it was possible for her to be twenty-eight and never have had sex, he didn’t know. Especially someone as beautiful and caring as her. If he’d known, he would’ve made sure their first time was something special. He would’ve taken his time. And he definitely would’ve made sure they were in a comfy bed, not outside where they both ran the risk of getting a nice sunburn on their bare asses.

  He’d been her first. The thought circulated in his mind, causing some deep caveman emotion to fill his chest. He’d love her even if she’d had sex with a dozen other men before him. Somehow though, knowing he was her first—and if he had anything to say about it, he would be her last—made the moment more life-altering.

  “We should put some on. I don’t want any of this luscious skin getting burned.” He dropped a hand to her stomach and her muscles tightened.

  “I could say the same about you.” She plucked the glass out of his hand and took a sip. “We need more champagne too.” Passing the glass back to him, her expression grew serious. “Seriously, what’s on your mind? Were you….” Her voice tailed off for a moment. “Was it okay?”

  Wow, usually she was more in tune to what he was thinking. “Any more okay, sweetheart, and I’d be dead.” It was difficult to tell for certain, but he thought her cheeks grew pinker. “I wish you’d told me. I would’ve at least found us a more comfortable place.”

  “Oh, what a great conversation starter. Guess what, Derek? I’m twenty-eight and still a virgin,” she said sarcastically.

  “You make it sound like it’s a crime.” Despite the seriousness of the conversation, he couldn’t have her close and naked and not touch her. Since she didn’t attempt to stop him when his hand grazed over her nipples, he assumed she didn’t mind.

  “Mmm.” Her pupils began to dilate and she pressed into his hand. “Just odd.”

  He gave her breast one last squeeze before he released it to move lower. “I’m glad,” he murmured against her neck.

  Her pulse under his lips took off. “Why’s that?” she asked, breathless.

  “Means no one but me has ever seen or touched this.” His hand caressed the smooth bare skin between her legs. “And nobo
dy ever will.” He pulled his slick fingers away and rested them on her abdomen.

  “Don’t stop.” She circled his wrist with her fingers and guided his hand back.

  The woman wanted to kill him. If he touched her much longer, he wouldn’t be able to stop until he’d made love to her again. Women were sore after their first time. At least he’d heard that somewhere. He’d never actually asked any. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

  She palmed him, moving her hand up and down. “Positive,” she said seductively as she arched into his palm.

  ***

  “I could stay here forever.” Brooklyn snuggled closer and enjoyed the unobstructed view of the stars from the upper balcony.

  “I know you love Rosewood.”

  “I do, but you know I meant something else.” She listened to the continuous thump of his heart and got ready to pour out her own. Although she suspected he knew she loved him, she’d yet to say the words. “I love being in your arms.”

  “Oh, so now it’s my arms you love. Well, that’s better than loving my dad’s house, I guess,” he teased.

  If he planned on teasing and giving her a hard time, she could do the same. “Your arms aren’t the only part of your anatomy I love after today.”

  “It’s yours anytime you want.” He pressed a kiss on her lips.

  “And only mine, right? I hate sharing anything I love.”

  “Is that your backhanded way of telling me you love me?” he asked. “If so, it’s about time.”

  “Honestly, I’ve loved you since we were freshmen in college.” A piece of her conscience breathed a sigh of relief.

  Derek pulled away so he could see her face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Too scared. I wasn’t sure how you’d react, and I didn’t want to lose your friendship. Keeping it to myself seemed safest.”

  “Wish I’d realized it sooner. Guess we have your father to thank for giving me the kick in the ass I needed.”

  Apprehension rolled over her at the mention of her dad. She’d avoided his calls all week. At some point she’d have to face him and tell him about Derek. Doing so via the phone while in a country far away sounded like a solid plan.

  “Hey, where did you go?” Derek asked, brushing her hair away and tucking it behind her ear.

  “Thinking about how I’m going to break the news. I’ve avoided my dad’s calls all week. I haven’t even listened to the last few voice mail messages he’s left. But I can’t do it forever. He probably already knows I told Trevor I couldn’t see him again. When I tell him about us, it’s only going to make the situation worse.”

  “What’s his problem with me?”

  They both knew her dad didn’t like him, but they’d never talked about it. “Beats me. He’s never said. I just know he doesn’t like your father and I guess he extends the dislike to you.” Calling it dislike was a gross understatement. She saw no need to repeat some of the things her dad had said about Derek and his family.

  “Doesn’t make any damn sense,” he grumbled, putting his head down alongside hers again.

  “Agreed.” There were individuals in her life she liked more than others, but none she hated. Whatever had happened between her dad and Mark Sherbrooke must be huge. “Maybe if he stops shouting long enough when I tell him about us, I’ll ask.”

  “Yeah, right. Like that’ll happen,” he said with sarcasm.

  Her apprehension grew, causing tension to creep into her shoulders. “I don’t want to think about my family anymore. Let’s talk about something more pleasant.”

  “This weekend your wish is my command. Is there anything special you want to do tomorrow?”

  She considered how they’d spent much of their time here already. A boldness she hadn’t expected took over as heat began to gather in her stomach. “I really enjoyed how we spent tonight. Let’s repeat it tomorrow. We do have a lot of time to make up for.”

  “I love your plan, sweetheart.”

  Chapter 12

  Hand in hand they walked away from his car and toward the stairwell door. They’d spent the entire weekend alone at Rosewood, but unfortunately the rest of the world was knocking. Tomorrow they were both expected at the office. The first thing he planned to do when he got there was check his calendar. As incredible as the weekend had been, he wanted a full two weeks just the two of them and no interruptions. Brooklyn had already agreed to do the same in the morning.

  “Let’s play hooky tomorrow. Fly out to Vegas and get married.”

  Brooklyn stumbled and he caught her around the waist before she hit the ground. “I have a trial starting tomorrow. I can’t play hooky.”

  “Okay, we can visit city hall when you break for lunch instead. Fill out all the paperwork for a marriage license, and my dad can marry us tomorrow night.”

  Brooklyn stepped away from him, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth hanging open to her knees. “You’re serious?”

  “What do you say?” He failed to see the problem. She loved him. They’d known each other for a long time. Why wait years doing the whole long engagement followed by a big wedding media frenzy thing. His way, they could marry and start the next phase of their life without the annoying paparazzi and gossip mill getting involved.

  “Derek, we can’t get married tomorrow,” she said incredulously.

  “Why not?”

  “Um, well, first of all, don’t you want your family there? You Sherbrookes are all about togetherness and family celebrations.”

  He shrugged a shoulder, still not seeing a problem with his suggestion. “We can have a party and celebrate later. If we do it my way, we can escape without our wedding photos showing up on every magazine cover and Internet site. We’ll avoid months of fabricated articles in trashy magazines. Do you remember what it was like leading up to Trent and Addie’s wedding?” When he’d woken up, getting married hadn’t been on his to-do list. Sometime between when they left the Cape and arrived in Providence it had entered his mind. Now it was a permanent resident there.

  “And the media had Sara and Christopher calling off their engagement every other month until their wedding. I don’t want to deal with all the BS, and I know you don’t either.”

  “Derek, I’m not getting married on my lunch break.”

  “It wouldn’t be on our lunch break.” Obviously she hadn’t been listening to him. “After work we can drive to Barrington. My father has the authority to marry us. We can put off a honeymoon until later in the summer.”

  “Nope. I don’t need anything crazy like my sister had, but I do want a wedding dress, maybe some flowers, a sweet chocolate cake, and Cheyenne as my maid of honor. If I married you tomorrow, I wouldn’t have any of those things.”

  “There’s no way for me to change your mind?”

  “Sorry. I love you, but I won’t marry you tomorrow night.” Brooklyn reached for his hand and gave it a tug to get him moving again. “Besides, do you really want to get married without Allison there? She’d never forgive you.”

  Brooklyn had a point. Allison would rip him a new one if he got married and she wasn’t there. He’d be pissed too if Allison and Rock decided to get married and not invite him. “How long will it take to plan the wedding you want?” When they reached the stairwell door, he pulled it open, but Brooklyn didn’t enter.

  “Is this your idea of a marriage proposal? If it is, it stinks.”

  He thought they’d already established he wanted to marry her.

  “People usually get engaged somewhere nicer than an underground parking garage. There is often a ring involved too, in case no one told you.”

  Perhaps his timing and location stank, but it didn’t change the facts. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Brooklyn. “We can shop for a ring tomorrow. Or if you’d rather wait until the weekend, we can head to New York or Los Angles Saturday.” Raising her hand, he kissed the top of it. “So will you marry me?”

  Brooklyn opened and closed her mouth a few times. Finally sh
e broke into a wide grin and threw her arms around him, the momentum pushing him back into the railing. “Yes.”

  “You had me worried there for a minute.”

  “Yeah, right. You knew the moment you spoke what my answer would be.” She released him and retrieved her overnight bag, which he’d dropped on the ground when she launched herself at him. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  He’d let her believe he’d known her answer. However, he hadn’t. Agreeing to marry him would cause even more turmoil with her parents. While he recognized her relationship with her family was nothing like the relationship he shared with his, she did love them.

  Dion sat at the security desk when they entered the lobby, and he called out a friendly greeting when they passed by.

  “So do you want to go ring shopping after work?” Derek asked as the elevator door opened at Brooklyn’s floor. “Or would you rather wait until we can visit somewhere else?”

  “Maybe it’s silly, but I’d rather have you pick it out for me. Have it be a surprise.”

  “Really? If that’s what you want, I’ll go alone.” Derek watched her unlock the door and push it open. The lights on inside immediately caught his attention. “Did you leave—”

  “About damn time you got home.”

  Donovan Novak’s voice brought them both to a standstill.

  “Where the hell have you been? I called you all week, and I’ve been sitting here since two o’clock this afternoon waiting for you to come home.”

  All the color drained from Brooklyn’s face and Derek put a reassuring hand on her waist.

  “Dad, how did you get in?”

  “Milan still had the key you gave her when she stayed with you.” Her father advanced on them, his eyes darting from Brooklyn to Derek and finally to the overnight bag he’d carried up for her. “What’s he doing with you?”

  Derek thought Novak’s lip actually curled in disgust when he spoke.

  “We were out together and he drove me home.”

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her rub the bridge of her nose. Then she cleared her throat and spoke. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you back. I was busy. What did you want to talk about?”