by Virna DePaul
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Praise For National Bestselling Author Virna DePaul:
"DePaul is amazing!" –NYT Bestselling Author Lori Foster
"This story is beautifully written...I found myself falling in love with every single character from the first pages." –Joyfully Reviewed
Overview of Bedding The Wrong Brother (formerly titled This Magic Moment):
~ Determined to find her inner sex diva, Melina Parker enlists her childhood friend, Max Dalton, to tutor her after hours. Instead, she ends up in the wrong bed and gets a lesson in passion from Max’s twin brother, Rhys Dalton, a man Melina’s always secretly wanted but never thought she could have.
More praise:
"Virna De Paul writes steamy like no other, keeping the reader at a breathless pace while her characters transform across the pages." –Nevada
"[W]itty, fun, realistic, and sexy..." –JJ
BEDDING THE WRONG BROTHER
BY
VIRNA DePAUL
PROLOGUE
Dalton’s Magic Rule #1: Never reveal your secrets.
“Hey, ladybug.”
Fourteen-year-old Melina Parker’s hand jerked at the sound of Rhys Dalton’s voice, causing the lizard in her palm to scamper away. Standing, she frowned to hide the sudden flight of butterflies in her stomach. “Darn it, Rhys. It took me almost an hour to get that one to come to me.”
Rhys, who even at sixteen towered over Melina’s petite frame, rolled his eyes. An identical twin, it was hard for Melina to believe there were two gorgeous guys with that same shade of honey-colored hair and light green eyes walking the Earth.
“Your mom said to tell you to stay clean.” The left side of his mouth quirked up, revealing the slightest hint of a dimple. “Guess it’s too late for that.”
Melina glanced down at the dust covering her jeans. Grimacing, she slapped at the dirt and groaned. “She’s going to kill me. She’s already mad that I wouldn’t wear the dress she bought me. You should have seen it, Rhys. It had polka dots. I mean, me in polka dots. Can you imagine?”
“Oh, come on, it makes sense. Plus, I think you’d be cute in a dress.”
At the quiet words, Melina’s head jerked up. He couldn’t have meant—?
No, of course not. He’d been so distant lately. He wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he was staring down at a playing card in his hands, folding it. Nothing strange about that. Like their parents, Rhys and his twin brother Max were always fiddling with some kind of magic trick. He was particularly fond of making coins disappear. Sometimes she wished he could make her crush on him disappear just as easily, but first she’d have to admit it to him. That was so never going to happen. She’d seen the types of girls he and Max were attracted to, and plain, chubby tomboys need not apply.
Nudging her glasses in place, she moved closer, trying to see what he was doing. “Um. So, have you heard from Max?”
His hands paused briefly before continuing. “Just that he doesn’t hate football camp nearly as much as he thought he would. Might have something to do with the girls camp next door.”
She snickered. “Bet you’re wishing you’d gone to camp when you’d had the chance, huh?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
His gaze met hers. Unlike Max’s, Rhys’s pupils had a slight amber ring around them. She’d read somewhere that differing eye color in identical twins was extremely rare. The subtle difference fit Rhys’s personality. While Max was almost always carefree and playful, Rhys had a quiet calmness about him—as if part of his mind was someplace else, someplace no one else could go.
He shrugged. “Time at home is rare, you know that.”
Melina nodded. She did. It was the hardest thing about being friends with the Dalton twins—the amount of time she had to spend missing them. Unless Rhys’s folks were working up a new act, like now, they spent their time traveling and performing. Still, despite having to be schooled on the road by tutors, Rhys and Max always seemed to enjoy going to new places. She certainly envied their chance to see more than this small, university town she called home.
“Poor baby,” she teased, plucking a blade of grass from the ground and twirling it. “Getting to see the world with your famous parents must be a drag, huh?”
He frowned, then shook his head. “No, you’re right. It’s great.” He thrust his hand toward her. “Here. To replace the one I scared away.”
Dropping the blade of grass, she reached out and took the card. Looking down at it, she gasped. He’d folded the card into a shape that clearly resembled a lizard, with one spade as its eye. A smile split her face, and she actually squealed. “It’s so cute!”
She looked up, happy to see that his frown had disappeared. A hank of hair had fallen over his eyes, and her fingers itched to push it back. She wouldn’t have thought twice about it if he’d been Max, but with Rhys? She couldn’t risk revealing how she felt about him. Next thing she knew, he’d pat her on the head and stop talking to her altogether, and that would kill her.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged again. “I got this book from the library—”
A movement behind his shoulder made her eyes widen. “Max?” She looked at Rhys, whose expression stiffened. “It’s Max!”
Running past Rhys, she threw herself at Max. He laughed and lifted her, twirling her around before setting her on her feet. Even to an outsider, the differences between him and his brother would be obvious now. He was tanner, and his hair had grown longer, almost touching his shoulders. She reached out and flipped it. “What’s with the girly hair?”
He narrowed his eyes and flicked a finger over her nose. “Still playing in the dirt, are you?”
She slapped his hand away. “You’re home early. Rhys said you were having fun at camp.”
“I was. But I wanted to see what Mom and Dad were up to with the act. They’re really pushing for something unique for the European tour. Your parents are here helping them?”
“Every day for the past week. Some kind of mechanical thingy.”
Max grinned and flung an arm around her shoulder. “Cool. Let’s go check it out.”
“Okay. But first look at what Rhys made me.” She lifted up the paper lizard even as she turned to Rhys. “It’s so cool. Rhys, let’s—”
Rhys walked past her, nodding his head at his brother and slapping him on the shoulder. “Come on, dude. You’re gonna love it. It’s huge. I mean—“
As they walked in front of her, the two of them laughing and shoving, Melina frowned. She watched them, the easy way they had with each other, and hesitated. They’d be back on the road in another few weeks, and then it would be just her and her parents in their quiet little house, all of their noses immersed in books. No one to call her ladybug or practice tricks on.
No one to dream about.
Which was silly, anyway. Her parents said things came to fruition through research and application, not dreaming. And they were right about everything.
Except polka dot dresses, she amended.
With a sigh, she carefully pocketed the paper lizard and scrambled to catch up with them. “Hey, guys! Wait up!”
CHAPTER 1
Dalton’s Magic Rule #2: Continually challenge yourself.
“Listen to this,” Lucy Conrad said, waving Melina’s magazine like a red flag. “98.9% of all women sometimes wish their lovers would just grab them, throw them down and fuck the
holy hell out of them.” Tossing the magazine on the sofa, she pointed a finger in Melina’s direction, her short, spiky red hair fairly vibrating. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
“That women like to feel wanted?” Melina guessed, handing Lucy a pint of Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream before dropping into the chair across from her. Sitting cross-legged, Melina adjusted her glasses, then scooped out a bite of Chunky Monkey from her own carton. It had been exactly seven days since she’d allowed herself this taste of heaven. When the cold confection touched her tongue, she closed her eyes in appreciation. “Hmmm,” she purred. “Gotta love Girl’s Night In.”
“You can say that again.” The soft but impassioned reply came from Grace Sinclair, who sat in a chair next to Melina. Melina held out her spoon and Grace delicately tapped it with her own. Grace, a career counselor in the university’s humanities department, was class and calmness personified. While Lucy was Cherry Garcia—cherry ice cream with cherries and fudge flakes—Grace was Ben and Jerry’s Crème Brulee—sweet custard ice cream with a caramelized sugar swirl. Blond and willowy with cool porcelain skin, Grace spoke with just a hint of southern drawl. “All we need is a Viggo Mortensen movie and I’d be half-way to heaven.”
“You already tried that, remember? Even with Viggo’s voice playing in the background, you couldn’t get off.”
Grace squinted at Lucy while waving her spoon. “Now don’t you go blaming that on Viggo. I could hardly hear him with all the grunting noises Phillip was making.” Grace wrinkled her nose. “I swear, the man had the nicest table manners, but in bed…” She gave a mock shudder.
Melina giggled as Lucy thumped on the magazine she’d been reading from.
“Seriously,” Lucy insisted. “This does not mean women like to feel wanted. It means they settle for fantasies instead of focusing on what they really want at the beginning of a relationship. Which is exactly what you’re doing, Melina.”
Sighing, Melina forced a smile. The last thing she wanted was to have another argument with Lucy about Professor Jamie Whitcomb. Unfortunately, despite the dusting of freckles that made Lucy look more like one of her students than a tenured professor, Lucy was a bulldog when it came to protecting her friends—even from themselves. “And exactly what should I be focusing on?” she asked.
“Passion,” Lucy fired back.
Of course. Passion. Lucy’s favorite word. “And by passion, you mean…”
“Pure, animalistic chemistry. The kind that makes you want to rip each other’s clothes off and do it against a tree if you have to. The kind of passion you don’t feel for Jamie.”
The kind of passion she’d never felt for any man, Melina thought. Any man except Rhys, that is. But thinking of Rhys only made her sad, and being sad while she ate Ben and Jerry’s was just wrong. “Ahh,” Melina said softly, trying not to sound too bitter. “You mean the kind of mutual passion that leads to love and life-long happiness and is about as real as unicorns or flying dragons.”
“Rarity isn’t the same as fantasy,” Lucy exclaimed. She stood, her face all flushed and her hands gesturing wildly. “That’s what women have been taught nowadays. That passion and true love and friendship, all rolled into one, is impossible. So they settle.”
“Lucy does have a point,” Grace admitted. “Passion must be a basic female need. Otherwise, why would such a huge percentage of women be craving it?”
“Maybe,” Melina said, trying to be the voice of reason, “because 98.9 percent of guys aren’t the throw-a-woman-on-the-ground type.” Her eyes automatically shifted to the pictures of Max and Rhys on her bookshelves. She had a feeling they were the exception, but they didn’t exactly represent the average male. “Women want passion, but if it’s not in a man’s true nature to give it to her, then what’s the point in wishing for it? Compatibility. Respect. Even love. That’s what matters.”
“So then what’s with all these?” Lucy pointed to several books on Melina’s coffee table. “The Joy Of Sex” rested prominently on top of the stack.
Melina shrugged prosaically, pretty sure Lucy already knew the answer. “Guys like sex. Jamie’s a guy. Thus, part of getting and keeping Jamie is giving him sex.”
And not just any kind of sex, Melina thought. Mind blowing, can’t live without it, I’ll-never-look-at-another-woman-for-fear-you-won’t-give-it-to-me-again, sex. The kind of sex she apparently didn’t know how to provide, but was going to master this time even if it meant renting every porno in her neighborhood video store.
“You like sex, too,” Grace pointed out. “Do you factor into this equation at all?”
“Of course, I do. I have no doubt that Jamie can give me what I want.”
Lucy harrumphed and narrowed her eyes at her. “Well, I’m glad your wants are still in the picture. At least Brian didn’t totally squash your sexual confidence when he hooked up with his little co-ed.”
Melina just smiled again, not willing to admit the truth. Brian hadn’t just squashed her sexual confidence, he’d annihilated it.
“True passion isn’t about technique, Melina,” Lucy insisted. “You can’t manufacture it by reading about it.”
Melina nodded. “I get that. But I’ve never been overly passionate, anyway. After Brian, I was sure I was through with men for good. But then Jamie approached me. He’s smart and kind and funny. I think I could be happy with him.” She heard the hesitation in her voice but charged on. “I just need a little extra insurance that I can make him happy, too.”
Snorting, Lucy shook her head. “If you’re talking in bed, there’s no such thing as insurance. You’ll just have to take the plunge, so to speak.”
“Not necessarily,” Grace drawled. “As my mama always said, practice makes perfect, right?”
Lucy’s brows furrowed, while Melina gave an internal groan. She recognized the challenge behind that drawl. For a woman who was so contained, Grace could throw down a challenge like nobody’s business. Worse yet, she’d be the first to take one up, which made Lucy and Melina hard pressed to turn one down themselves.
Melina turned to Grace, whose impish smile was unmistakable. “And just who are you suggesting I practice with?” she asked.
In sync, all of their gazes moved to the same shelf of pictures. Melina’s stomach clenched even as she zoomed in on the most recent addition. Max and Rhys both looked impossibly handsome in black tuxedos. She’d taken it at the IBM Magic Convention in Vegas last year, right after they’d beat out Chris Angel and Lance Burton for Best Stage Magician Of The Year. Of course, in the picture they each had an arm around their date—Max, a tall, leggy redhead, and Rhys, a stacked brunette whose boobs were almost spilling out of her plunging neckline.
Melina dropped her gaze to her ice cream container. Unless Ben and Jerry had begun manufacturing implants, she’d bet that brunette had never heard of them. Suddenly feeling as if every bite of ice cream had gone straight to her hips and thighs, she set the carton aside.
“Rhys?” she asked incredulously. “I said I need insurance I can satisfy Jamie, and you want me to drive head-on into a brick wall. Rhys is in a whole different league than Jamie.”
“Exactly,” Grace replied. “You want him, yet you’ve let fear hold you back. You’re turning twenty-eight in a week, Melina. Why not overcome two fears at the same time? Prove to yourself you can satisfy a man like Rhys, and you’ll necessarily prove you can satisfy someone like Jamie, as well.”
“You’re wicked,” Lucy breathed, sounding utterly impressed.
Grace bowed in acknowledgment.
Melina shook her head and held up her hands. “Just hold on. You’re assuming I can satisfy Rhys. How likely is that? I couldn’t even keep Brian satisfied in bed, and he’d only been with two other women. With all the women Rhys has had…” Melina swallowed hard, the very thought of all those women causing an ache of mammoth proportions in her chest.
“All the more reason to ask him. Think what a fabulous teacher he’d be,” Grace urged.
>
But Melina was already shaking her head again. Defiantly, she picked up her ice cream container and took a fortifying bite. “No way,” she mumbled around the spoon. “Rhys doesn’t even like me anymore. We haven’t talked for months.”
Obviously, he was too preoccupied with the showgirl-type women he was often photographed with to have time for an old friend. Of course, he’d proved to her long ago that nailing the hottest chick was more important than friendship. Her mistake had been in thinking it was a one-time thing. “Forget it. I’m not asking Rhys for anything.”
Her tone brooked no argument, or so she thought. After a few seconds, Lucy shot her a sideways glance. “Okay, so if not Rhys, what about Max?”
Melina choked, coughed, and wheezed, “Max?”
“Of course,” Grace said, nodding and smiling in delight. “He has even more experience than Rhys. And she’s completely comfortable with him.”
“Not that comfortable,” Melina interjected, only to be ignored.
“She trusts him,” Lucy agreed. “He’s a hottie. They’ve already kissed once—”
“That was almost twelve years ago and he felt sorry for me—”
“—and he’s flying in for her birthday. He’s perfect.”
“Perfect,” Grace echoed. “Talk about sexual empowerment.”
Melina’s gaze bounced back and forth between her friends as her mind frantically tried to come up with a reason why sleeping with Max was a bad idea.
She couldn’t come up with one.
Still, it would be humiliating for Melina to cave so soon. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “And exactly what sexual empowerment issue would you two be addressing during my crash course in satisfying a man?” She looked over at Grace, who’d started to braid a strip of her long pale hair. “Grace?”
Grace stopped braiding, bit her lip, then shrugged, her mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. “No point in denying my greatest fear, now is there? My birthday’s two weeks after yours, so I’ll try to find the man I fear doesn’t exist—the man who can get me off. I’m sure it will just lead to another weekend of frustration, but as long as I can keep my vibrator handy, I’m willing to suffer for the cause.”
