Although no one had told the wedding coordinator that.
The coordinator, Shari, Elizabeth thought her name was, spun around with that frighteningly large grin. “And what about you?” she cooed. Releasing Connie’s arm, she headed toward Elizabeth with a focus that was unnerving.
“What about me?” Elizabeth mumbled. She resisted the urge to back away from the crazy happy lady.
“This is your big day too. Yours and your fiancé’s….Jason, right?”
At Elizabeth’s jerky nod, Shari hurried on. “What do you want your wedding to look like?”
Elizabeth cast a quick, panicked look in her sister’s direction. “Oh, we’re, uh…Jason and I are pretty easygoing. We’re happy leaving the planning up to Connie.”
She saw Connie give her a thumbs up of approval over Shari’s shoulder. But Shari was not to be deterred. She seemed to take Elizabeth’s lack of interest personally. Closing the distance between them, Shari looped her arm through Elizabeth’s, just as she’d done to Connie, and leaned in as if sharing the secrets of the universe.
“You may not realize it yet, but your wedding day is a colossal event.”
Elizabeth blinked at the chirpy little woman. Colossal event? Talk about melodramatic. She made it sound like a natural catastrophe.
“It’s the first day of the rest of your life,” Shari continued. “After your wedding day, you’ll be a new woman. You’ll have a new family, new responsibilities, and possibly a new last name—that’s up to you, of course.”
Elizabeth kept her focus on the wedding coordinator on her arm. Connie was standing behind her and she didn’t dare make eye contact with her sister. Keeping from laughing was painful enough as it was.
Shari seemed completely unaware of the amusement she was causing with her oh-so-earnest speech. She was looking at Elizabeth expectantly.
Oh, right. She was supposed to respond. She forced herself to nod sagely. When that wasn’t enough she added, “I’m not planning on taking his last name.”
Connie let out a weird squeaking noise behind them but Shari just tilted her head and gave Elizabeth a condescending smile. “New name or not, you’ll be a new person when all this is over. Believe me, I’ve seen more than my share of weddings.”
Connie apparently recovered from her giggle fit and stepped in to rescue Elizabeth from the eager coordinator. Taking Shari by the arm, Connie led her toward the door to the garden, where the reception would be held. “Tell me, what are your thoughts on heaters? Should we have some on hand just in case?”
That was enough to distract Shari. Elizabeth could hear the two of them animatedly talking heaters as they walked away, leaving Elizabeth alone and, well, if not shell-shocked, something close to it.
Shari was a silly woman. Not someone she should be listening to. Yet, somehow, the woman’s words struck her to her core, leaving her stunned and shaky.
You’ll be a new person when all this is over. The words echoed in her head. To be honest, Elizabeth had never looked at marriage that way. Call her unromantic, but Elizabeth had seen marriage as the next logical step in a long-term relationship, not some sort of life-changing, self-altering “colossal event.”
Would it have been? Elizabeth shrugged that thought off. It didn’t matter now, did it? The niggling thought that kept her from following her sister and Shari was that she was a new person now, for better or for worse. While marriage might have been transformational, it was the breakup that had broken her, shattered her image of her life—past, present, and future.
For a moment, Elizabeth had the feeling she was looking at herself from the outside. Like she was a character in a movie and her life was one long plotline. The breakup had been a turning point. She could never go back to being so trusting and naïve. Not now when her heart had been crushed and she’d experienced the ultimate betrayal. She was no longer the girl who’d saved herself for marriage—or engagement—whatever, close enough. She was no longer the woman who had her whole future laid out before her. She’d lost her life partner, her circle of friends….she’d lost her place in life.
Oddly enough, looking at it from an outside perspective, she found she wasn’t sad. It wasn’t grief or heartbreak that kept her frozen in the middle of a now-empty wedding hall. It was relief. No, that wasn’t the right word. Relief implied that she’d been unhappy before or that she was happy now. That wasn’t the case. She was still choking back tears on a daily basis for the life she lost.
But there was a lightness in her chest that hadn’t been there before. It wasn’t relief, it was…freedom.
A dizzy happiness enveloped her at the thought. Such a relief after weeks of misery and depression. For the first time since walking in on Jason and her ex-friend, she felt optimistic. Like maybe her life wasn’t over. Sure, her old life was over. But this was her chance to start fresh and create a new life for herself. She didn’t have to be the safe one, the reasonable one, the pragmatic one. She didn’t have to be the prude.
And she didn’t want to be.
Mark’s parting words from the night before echoed loud and clear in her mind. Come find me if you change your mind.
Her breathing started coming fast and furious. Was she really going to do this? She flashed on the feel of his hand on her thigh, his lips moving over hers with a passion she’d never known she could evoke.
Hell yes, she was doing this.
The next hour passed in a blur as she followed Connie and Shari around the grounds, pretending to take an interest and hide the fact that her mind had wandered to a very dirty place. Decision made, she was determined. Tonight, she would go see him. Unless he was working? Maybe she should text him first. No. She wanted to see the shocked look on his face when she showed up on his doorstep.
Just thinking about his mocking departure the night before had her tightening her fists in anger as heat built in her core. Lord help her, he was hot when he was being an arrogant ass.
When Connie dropped her off in front of her house, she pecked her sister on the cheek, called out a farewell and raced inside. A shower was the first stop, then she had to pick out what she’d wear.
She didn’t allow herself time to slow down or pause to think, afraid that if she did she’d chicken out. She was taking a leap here and it was terrifying. And exhilarating. This was her first official act as the new and improved Elizabeth Hayes.
After an hour of primping and dressing, she declared herself good to go. Any more time and she would just be procrastinating. She took one minute to assess herself in the mirror, inordinately pleased with the results. She’d blown out her hair so it fell in soft waves around her face. She’d put on a little extra makeup so her lips had a bee-stung look and her eyes were soft and smoky. She hadn’t needed any rouge since adrenaline and desire provided a natural blush. Her reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. When was the last time she’d made an effort to look sexy? Not just pretty herself up for the dutiful weekly date night, but actually spend time making herself feel like a sex goddess.
Her own slow smile in the mirror looked like it belonged to someone else. Someone confident and rebellious.
She slipped into a pair of black heels that had long been abandoned in the back of her closet. The black sheath dress was the sexiest piece she could find and, while it wasn’t form-fitting or outrageously revealing, it clung to her curves as she moved and the thin material made her feel sensual whenever she touched it.
She licked her lips and gave herself one last look in the mirror. It was now or never.
She spent the car ride to Mark’s apartment muttering the same mantra over and over. Please let him be home. Please let him be home. Please let him be home. While she might have been overcome by bravery and a slight case of insanity today, there was no way she expected this sudden burst of nerves to last.
In fact, it barely lasted until she reached his front door. Standing there, one fist raised to knock, her mantra suddenly changed from Please let him be home to Please don’
t let him be home.
But she did bring herself to knock. And after one long, excruciating moment, the door opened.
Chapter Six
Mark shot off of his couch at the sound of a knock on his door—this had better be the best damn pizza in the world given how long it had taken to deliver.
He threw open the door, ready to make a sarcastic remark about how many pizzas he could have made from scratch in the time it took them to deliver. Mouth open, the words died on his lips as he faced the most gorgeous creature to ever grace his apartment building. Hell, the most gorgeous creature to grace the planet.
“Elizabeth.” Her name came out on a growl. He couldn’t help the pure animal lust that was coursing through him, stiffening his muscles and giving him an instant erection. Holy shit, this woman was sexy.
His gaze moved over her from head to toe, taking in the styled hair, the makeup, the dress. Freakin’ hell, that dress. Tantalizingly sheer, he could just make out the tips of her breasts beneath the thin fabric, and it stopped mid-thigh, giving him a teasing glimpse of her toned legs. He forced his gaze up to her face. This woman was sexy as hell…and she was also nervous.
Nibbling on her lower lip, she shifted from foot to foot in front of him. Despite the desire that made it difficult to talk, let alone move, he ordered his body to move out of the doorway and swung the door open a little further. “Do you want to come in?”
She gave a brisk nod and then, after a temporary pause, followed through on the action and stepped foot into his apartment.
Sanity started to return as Mark shut the door and turned to face her. What was she doing here? Not that he was complaining but….what the hell? Sure, he’d suggested that she come find him if she wanted to finish what they’d started, but he’d never thought for one second that she would take him up on it.
He’d had a vague hope that one day she’d come around but not even in his wildest fantasies had he imagined that she would show up on his doorstep the very next day. Not unless…oh hell, maybe he had it all wrong.
“On your way to a hot date?” He gestured toward her sensational dress and those killer, fuck-me-now stilettos.
Her lips parted in surprise and he caught the flicker of hurt in her eyes. “I, uh….” she started.
Oh sweet Jesus. Unless he was dreaming, she’d come here for him.
Hoping to remove the foot from his mouth and ease the hurt, panicky look in her eyes, he took one step closer. “Unless I’m the hot date in question, which would make me the luckiest man in the world.”
He was happy to see her shoulders relax a bit at that as she let out a long exhale. A surprising tenderness toward this strange, sexy, mystery of a woman had him closing the distance between them. She didn’t back away but she remained standing there, her hands at her sides and her eyes watching him warily as he moved to stand directly in front of her, mere inches away so he could reach out and touch her when she was ready.
“I take it you’ve been thinking about what I said last night?” he ventured.
She blinked up at him and the look in her eyes was a heady mix of naiveté and desire as she nodded. She licked her lips and he thought he might take her then and there.
Patience, jackass. She was in his apartment but she still had the air of a frightened rabbit, ready to flee from the predator at any moment. While a little part of him was turned on by the idea of Elizabeth being his prey—there was nothing more he wanted than to devour this woman from head to toe—this had to be good for her. Which meant he should give her some space, allow her to relax and ease into things.
Much as his body hated the idea, he spun around and headed toward the kitchen. “Can I get you a glass of wine?”
“Yes, please.”
His apartment was a studio—a spacious studio—but a studio nonetheless. The kitchen opened up to the living space which was divided between the living room, consisting of his old tattered couch and a TV, and the bedroom, which was pretty much just his bed and a dresser. It was bare bones, to say the least, but all of his money was going elsewhere.
Normally he didn’t mind living in a bachelor pad but now, watching Elizabeth looking like a million bucks and looking absurdly out of place…he had the sudden desire for an upgrade.
He shook off that thought. Elizabeth wouldn’t be in his life long enough for him to be contemplating a change of address. Hell, he’d be lucky if he saw her in the morning if her last visit to his place was anything to go by.
He poured their glasses, all the while keeping an eye on Elizabeth, who was still standing where he’d left her. “Feel free to have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the couch.
Again, she hesitated. He could practically see the doubts and second thoughts flying out of her ears. But in the end she moved to the couch and sat down, carefully tucking her dress beneath her legs.
He joined her on the couch, careful not to brush up against his skittish visitor. He wanted to put her at ease, but more than anything he was terrified that she would take off. Please, don’t go. The intensity of his desire was unnerving, to say the least.
But that was why a sexual affair was so necessary, he reminded himself. He needed to get this infatuation out of his system and there was no better way to do that than to sleep with her. Once. His eyes roamed over her dress, drawn once more to the exposed, tanned thigh. Okay, maybe twice.
Her hand touched his. It was a brief, fluttering touch before she quickly pulled her hand back. But it was enough to break the barrier between them. Mark reached out and took her hand in his, stroking her palm with his thumb and feeling the rapid beat of her pulse at her inner wrist. Her eyes widened a bit and she licked her lips as she glanced between their clasped hands and his face.
“Why are you so nervous?” His voice was low, calm, but she started as if he’d shouted at her. Right, new game plan. Seduction could wait. He didn’t exactly harbor fantasies about taking a woman who was scared stiff. But then, she had come to him, it wasn’t like he’d lured her here.
She licked her lips once more and Mark bit back a groan. Something told him Elizabeth had no idea how sexy she looked when she did that. He thought she was going to ignore the question but then she finally started talking.
“I don’t think….” She shifted, pulling her hand out of his as she readjusted her skirt, tugging nervously at the hem. “I’m not very good at this.”
“At talking?”
Her head whipped around so she could see him and he gave her a teasing smile which seemed to make her posture relax a bit from its military-straight rigidness.
“No,” she breathed. “Sex.”
The word left him speechless. Yes, that’s exactly what he was hoping would happen tonight but hearing her say it stunned him into temporary paralysis. His mouth went dry like he was a nervous teenage boy and not a grown man who’d had more affairs than he could count.
He cleared his throat. Part of him wanted to laugh. How could this woman—this sexy, feisty, passionate woman—not be good in bed? But one look at her serious expression made the laughter die. In its place was a boiling rage. Who the hell had made her so self-conscious? He would bet money she hadn’t come to that conclusion on her own.
Then he remembered. She’d been cheated on. Of course she was self-conscious. He remembered that aspect of his own betrayal like it was yesterday. The questioning. The doubting. The wondering if what you’d shared had ever been real or if it had all been in your head.
He still wanted to murder the bastard who put that uncertainty in her eyes but he shoved aside the rage. That was the last thing Elizabeth needed. No, she needed to regain her confidence. And he was just the man to help her.
He set his own glass of wine down on the coffee table before taking hers and doing the same. Before she could ask what he was doing, he reached out and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her into his lap in one move.
Her gasp sounded loud in the sparse apartment but she didn’t cry out.
* * *
&nbs
p; She’d made a mistake. For the hundredth time since she arrived at his door, that thought raced through her mind. This was a mistake—a gigantic, colossal mistake.
She knew she was too rigid in his arms. She’d never sat on anyone’s lap before—maybe with Jason, but she couldn’t seem to remember a time. He’d definitely never reached out and pulled her onto his lap like a caveman. She didn’t know how she was supposed to sit. What she was supposed to do.
This was a mistake. She was just going to humiliate herself.
His hands were still at her waist and for a moment neither of them moved. She tried to ignore the hard length of him beneath her bottom but it was impossible to ignore. Feeling that evidence of his desire was the headiest aphrodisiac she could imagine. He wanted her.
She let out a shaky breath. As if he was waiting for that cue, Mark moved his arms, wrapping one around her so she was forced to lean against his body and the other….
All of her focus shifted to the hand that was stroking her leg in a long, soothing motion from her calf to her thigh, stopping where her dress ended. Up and down, his hand smoothed over her skin in a move that was simultaneously soothing and rattling. Her body responded to the touch as if she was a cat being pet. She let herself relax against him even as the tension inside her ratcheted up a thousand notches at the feel of his hand against her bare skin.
The stroking was hypnotic and she could feel her breath slowing, matching his rhythm. When all of the nervous tension was gone, replaced by sexual tension—only then did he speak.
His voice was low and husky, his lips so close to her ear, she could feel the vibration and it sent a shiver down her spine.
“Elizabeth,” he started. “There is no doubt in my mind that you are wrong about your abilities in bed.”
The Morning After: Starting from Zero Box Set Page 24
