by Lexi Blake
“I thought we would eat at the art show.”
She shook her head. “Oh, people do not eat at art shows. People show off how thin they are at art shows. So I thought we would have a nice meal and then I’ll pour myself into some Spanx and we’ll deal with all the skinny, hungry people who think painting a daisy on an old washing machine is art.”
“Seriously?” He’d tried to avoid the art world as much as possible. Drew often brought in designers to redo offices and Ellie firmly believed in hanging stuff on walls, but Bran was happy with nothing more than a nice bed, a TV, and an Xbox. That was enough decoration for him.
He often thought he was the worst multimillionaire in the whole world.
It didn’t seem to bother Carly. She simply gave him a breezy smile. “I think she would say it’s a statement on the uselessness of our modern society in juxtaposition with the power of nature. Or something like that. We might need a drink or two before we get there.”
He followed her into the kitchen. Yes, he would definitely need that drink.
—
Carly thanked the caterer and looked out over the spread. Despite what she’d told Bran, there were always appetizers at anything Patricia hosted. All Patricia’s Paradise–approved recipes. Unfortunately, they were all tiny bite-sized things, and a man Bran’s size wouldn’t fill up on mini goat cheese crostini.
“All of this stuff is weird.” Bran looked over the selection and grabbed a tiny tart. “Why is there a carburetor sitting in the middle of the floor?”
He’d been walking around the exhibit since they’d gotten here. Carly had to come in an hour ahead of time to ensure everything was perfect, from the catering to the champagne service to the lighting. Ten percent dimmer than normal and nothing in a harsh white or Patricia would walk out. While she’d ensured that no harsh light cast itself on her employer, Bran had walked around, frowning mostly. Apparently this wasn’t his style of art.
“This is what folks in the art world call reclaimed art. It’s done with stuff the artist found in a junkyard. This particular artist is extremely earth friendly. She’s designing a line of recycled home goods for the online store. That’s what we’re pushing tonight.”
Bran looked around, taking in the venue. “So the family vibe is all for show. I know it shouldn’t surprise me.”
“Patricia doesn’t have any close family. She was an only child and never speaks to her parents. As for her stepchildren, they’re only dragged out for events like this. She goes skiing during the holidays. They are not invited.”
“I don’t get that. I spend every holiday with my family. If I don’t, let’s just say my sister is good with the guilt. We do holidays big in my family. I think it’ll be worse now since one of my brothers got married last year. I guess it’s because we spent so much time apart,” Bran said.
Because of the actions of Patricia Cain and her partners. “I don’t spend much time with my family. Not after my grandma died. Mom’s still around but she moved to Nevada a couple of years ago and she got married. She said it might be weird for us to come out and see her for Christmas since the new husband’s family is so big.” That had hurt more than she’d imagined. Even though she hadn’t been close to her mom, knowing how little she cared had kicked her in the gut. “So it’s only me and my sister, but we have fun.”
“I bet you do. I bet you cook a lot.”
“Always.” Food was the language of her love. She’d enjoyed making him lemon chicken with asparagus and quinoa earlier. They were simple recipes, but he’d dug in like he was eating at the finest restaurant in the world. It had been a long time since she cooked for someone who didn’t take the recipe apart and question every single ingredient. Bran simply enjoyed it, and that had done something for her.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the doors had been opened and there was now a crowd milling around the exhibit space. It was time to get to work. “Okay, to your left is her stepson. His name is Kenny Jr. He seems to have gotten the majority of common sense in the family. He runs the real estate arm of his father’s company, but I think he’ll have a serious fight with Patricia after his dad passes. If his dad passes. I sometimes think he’s drinking the blood of virgins to stay alive.”
“That bad?”
“He’s positively vile, which is why it’s a surprise Kenny’s such a nice guy. The woman he’s talking to is our artist. She’ll give the family a tour of the show for the cameras. There are only two tonight because it’s kind of a tight space. They’re good at staying in the background, but we’ll have to deal with them once Patricia arrives.” How would that work? Did he want to be on camera? “Maybe you should stay away from the cameras.”
“I’ll try, but if they catch me, it’s all right,” he said with a smile.
Was he really thinking about this? “People might know you.”
“When will this air?”
Now she saw his point. “Six months from now, likely. You’re right.”
Six months from now this mission would be over. Six months from now he would be out of her life, and if everything worked, she would have moved on as well.
But she had the next month with him. Was she going to waste it?
She’d thought about him all afternoon. Since that moment when he’d pulled her down into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, she couldn’t get him out of her head. That moment had affected her even more than the kiss, which had been incendiary. It had proven once and for all that there was a sexual being hiding under her prim skirts. She’d thought she’d buried the sexual part of her after the divorce, but Bran brought it out.
Still, it was realizing he needed more from her than sex that got her thinking. Bran had been scared and he’d allowed her to comfort him. Most men wouldn’t ever admit their fear. They would have laughed off the episode, but Bran had taken her kindness and it seemed to settle him.
He needed her. She needed him. Even if it was only for a while.
“Are you all right?” Bran asked.
She was nervous as hell and she wasn’t sure how to ask for what she wanted. Now probably wasn’t the time to have a conversation about moving their mutually beneficial relationship into the bedroom.
There wasn’t a Miss Manners for hooking up.
Bran reached out and cupped her shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. As soon as tonight’s over, if everything goes well, the world goes back to normal until we head to California.”
“Normal? So I won’t see you?” She hadn’t considered that.
His lips curved up in the sexiest smile. “I meant normal as in new normal. I think we should be seen together as much as possible. On that note, I want you to think about letting me stay over for a little while longer. Just until I manage to get the other situation handled.”
Until he managed to pay off the million-dollar debt she found herself with. It had seemed so easy in the beginning. Now all she could think about was the fact that he was going to write a check for a million dollars to get her out of trouble.
“I’ve been thinking about that.” She couldn’t let him do it. Could she?
He leaned over. “Don’t think. Let me take care of it. Let me take care of you.”
When he said those words in that oh-so-deep voice of his, she wanted to melt and follow his every instruction. “Bran, it’s too much. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to pay you back.”
His lips hovered over hers. “I am thinking so many non-PC things right now.”
She laughed because of all the men she’d met, he was the last one she could think of who would demand sex for cash. He was all white knight in shining armor. “I bet you are.”
It hit her that she was in way too deep with this guy. She’d known him for so little time and here she was trusting him. He was too good to be true, and too good to be true often landed her in hot water.
; “Carly? What the hell?”
Carly winced. She knew that slightly too-loud voice. She straightened up and forced herself to smile. “Hi, Jas.”
Jasmine wasn’t bad, exactly. She was, however, very loud at times, and it looked like her bodyguard hadn’t done his job. She had a glass of champagne in her hand, but it looked like it wasn’t her first. Or second. “Hey, girl. Come here and give me a hug. I just got rid of Enrique. That’s the last time I’m shopping in Spain, if you know what I mean. It’s also the last time I settle for a second cousin. If I get married again, it’s going to be a king or nothing at all.”
Carly found herself enveloped in some kind of floral scent that couldn’t quite mask the herbal fragrance underneath. Damn it. She was smoking pot again. This was what Jasmine did when a relationship ended. She sank herself into pot and alcohol and shocking amounts of retail therapy. “Welcome back to the States.”
Jas stepped back. “I’m so happy to be home. Well, I’m not happy that the minute I get off a plane I’m forced to perform, but hey, at least I look good. The stepmonster sent this pretty Cavalli along with a bodyguard. Do I have you to thank for that? He was lovely. All of twenty-five, and with the stamina of a rutting bull. It made the flight go quickly.”
She caught Bran’s brief grin. Yes, she knew who to thank for that since Carly had requested a senior agent. Both experience and age. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Where is he? Shouldn’t he be here with you?”
Jas waved that off. “We had a fight this afternoon so I fired him. It was good while it lasted. I’m so glad I ran into you. I wanted some advice. You know, I’ve been thinking about trying to get my own reality show. I have a proposal I want to take to Daddy.”
Ah, yes, she also tried to talk her father into funding her reality show every time she got a divorce. At least it might keep Ken Sr. occupied for a few days. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
Jas’s eyes flared as she realized Carly wasn’t alone. “Hello, hottie. How are you? Are you one of the cameramen tonight? I take back everything I said about having to be here.”
Was she going to have to defend Bran from every member of her boss’s family? “His name is Brandon. Bran, this is Jasmine Jones. She’s Patricia’s stepdaughter. Jas, Bran is my guest tonight.”
“I’m her boyfriend.” He put out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Seriously?” For once Jas seemed too shocked to speak. Naturally it was because she couldn’t believe Carly could get a guy like Bran. Yes, that was kind of how it seemed to be going today. Everyone she’d introduced Bran to had been all wide-eyed and disbelieving. Like she could never get a date.
Though it wasn’t like he was truly her date. He was here for different reasons. And yet she couldn’t help but think about what she’d overheard earlier today. Apparently Bran and his brothers hadn’t figured out that the window near the door was super thin and sound carried pretty easily out of it. She’d heard them talking as she walked up to open the door. She’d stopped because she’d heard an unfamiliar deep voice. For a second she’d frozen, certain her would-be attackers had come back. Then she’d realized she was listening to something entirely different.
He had no qualms about spending time in her bed even before he’d met her. Riley really was a manwhore. You’re different, but I don’t think your reaction to Carly is different.
I want to sleep with her because she’s attractive. I like her. Her heart had seized when she realized that was Bran and he was talking about her.
And that’s why she scares me.
She’d opened the door, unwilling to eavesdrop further on a private conversation, but she’d wondered about it. He had zero reason to lie. He hadn’t known she could hear him. It obviously would have put his brother at ease if Bran had said something different.
So the logical conclusion was he wasn’t lying when he said he wanted her.
She slid her hand into his and felt him lean against her. “I think we’re pretty serious. He’s staying with me while he’s here.”
Bran’s fingers tightened briefly around hers. “Staying with Carly is so much nicer than a nasty hotel. Who knows? I might stay for a good long while.” He leaned over and briefly brushed his lips against hers. “Why don’t you show me the rest of the exhibit? I know you have to get back to work soon.”
There he was again. Saving her from an awkward situation.
She gave Jas a smile. “I’ll see you later on. You look gorgeous, by the way. Once your father is reminded of how lovely you are on camera, he’ll certainly have to think about producing that show.”
Jas preened. “Thanks, doll. I’ll get myself some more champagne. Having to deal with the stepmonster always makes me thirsty.”
Bran steered her away. “Wow, she’s already a couple of sheets to the wind.”
Carly waved that off. “Not really. That’s kind of how she is. It will definitely be enough to completely irritate the boss. I’ll be honest, I’m kind of anxious about what your brother has in store for us tonight. I’m not looking forward to the drama.”
He gave her the wickedest grin, and then she found herself being hauled down a short hallway and into a room right off the gallery floor. “I am looking forward to this.”
She didn’t get a chance to look around because Bran was suddenly kissing her. His head swooped down and his lips brushed hers, and she couldn’t think about anything but how overwhelmingly sexy he was.
His hands came up, fingers twisting lightly in her hair, drawing her back so he had a better angle.
He wasn’t particularly gentle this time. He seemed even hungrier than he’d been before. His tongue licked along her bottom lip and she didn’t even try to hold out. She opened her mouth, welcoming him in.
“Now see, that’s what I meant by chemistry, Carly,” he whispered before kissing her again.
She could do this all damn day. Kissing Brandon Lawless was more erotic than all the sex she’d ever had with her husband.
“Excuse me?”
She nearly jumped back and fell on her ass, but Bran’s hands were there, holding her upright. Dear God, she’d forgotten where she was. The lead cameraman was standing there with a grin on his face.
“Sorry, Ms. Fisher, but I need to set up for the entrance. Ms. Cain’s limo is almost here.” Mike Davis gave her a wink. “I also need to make sure the lighting in here is all right. I’ll have the new guy set that up. Apparently this is the showcase room.” He sighed as he looked around. “I don’t understand art. What the hell is that thing?”
“I’m with you,” Bran said, apparently not at all embarrassed that they’d been caught making out by the camera guy. “I greatly prefer that painting of the dogs playing poker.”
Carly looked over. That must have been one of the artist’s signature pieces. It was an old antique stove with a fire flowing through the grate. Yes, now Carly remembered because she’d had to pay for the gas for this particular piece. Patricia had insisted the collection couldn’t be shown without it. She’d said something about living art.
The gallery hadn’t loved running a gas line into the room to feed the stove that supposedly represented global warming and the collusion of big business to heat up the world. Yeah, it was definitely one of those shows. And now that Bran wasn’t all over her, she could feel the heat. That was the purpose of having it in a small room where the door closed. The observers were supposed to feel “the heat.”
Mike shook his head. “Does it have to be this hot in here? It could steam up the lenses.”
Yet another thing she would have to deal with. “I believe the artist would say yes. I’ll try to convince her global warming can be a bit cooler than this.”
She glanced up at Brandon and wished they could have had a little longer. Her evening was just beginning, and the rest, she was sure, would be a lot less pleasurable.
Chapter Se
ven
So I hear you’re dating our Carly.”
Bran turned slightly and noticed there was a man in a fashionable suit standing next to him looking up at the trash can that had been affixed to the wall. It was nothing more than a plastic garbage can that had been torn in places, its smelly contents peeking out from the slashes and threatening to tumble into the space. He’d seen that this particular piece was called Waste Land Suburbia. Apparently Waste Land Suburbia needed an HOA.
“I’m Carly’s boyfriend. Name’s Brandon.” He held out a hand.
Which the new guy did not take. He looked down at it and then back up at the trash can.
So much for friendly conversation. He recognized the man. Carly had pointed him out. Kenny Jones, the head of the real estate division. So this was Patricia Cain’s stepson.
“I’m Ken Jones. My father is married to Carly’s boss. I thought we should talk, if you’re determined to go through with this,” he said, his voice low.
For a second Bran went on the defensive. How the hell could this man know what he was planning? “Go through with what?”
“With dating Carly. Or whatever you choose to call it.” He sniffed, his face pinching. “I think it would be best if you understood that Carly’s had a rough time of it. I’m rather surprised to hear she’s attempting to date again.”
He managed to not sigh with relief. The stepson didn’t know anything. This was interesting. Was he going to get the protective-big-brother lecture? Or the pissed-off-potential-lover, get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way talk? Either way, it would be far more interesting than the art exhibit. He’d recently met the artist, who despite her hatred of materialism had shown up in a designer dress that likely had cost thousands of dollars. He would bet those shoes she was wearing weren’t earth friendly, either. They looked deadly.
He greatly preferred Carly’s kitten heels. That’s what she was. A pretty kitten in his arms when he kissed her. She melted against him and he felt about ten feet tall.
Nothing, it seemed, had ever felt as good as kissing Carly Fisher.
