A Trap So Tender

by Jennifer Lewis

  Her father stared, his eyes slightly bloodshot. “A horse race?”

  “I rode with him on the estate. Fast. I know I can beat him as I’m so much lighter. Don’t worry about it.”

  “And he’ll give you the factory? You actually discussed this.”

  “We haven’t gone into detail. I don’t want to make him suspicious.”

  “Maybe you should ask for his new tower down by the park. That’s worth a lot more than that old factory.” He chuckled. This idea obviously appealed to him.

  “Let’s keep it simple.” She drew in a breath. “And in the meantime I have to play along with this engagement charade. Last night was interesting since he took Mom and Dan out to dinner.”

  Her dad’s stride missed a beat. “She’s here? What’s going on?”

  Like most kids, she’d once dreamed of her parents getting back together, but those fantasies were long gone. “James wanted to meet her and tell her about the engagement. I managed to hold him off from that, though. Unfortunately, she really liked him.”

  “Slimy bastard. I bet he’s a real charmer.”

  “He is.” She felt a rogue urge to defend James and point out that he had been kind to her. But she knew that was a bad idea. “I have to go to some parties and smile for a week or so, then we’ll return to Scotland and I’ll win the race.”

  “You’re more devious than he is.” Her dad ran a hand through his thinning hair. “It’s a crazy scheme and I like it!”

  He stopped walking and hugged her. Her breath caught in her lungs. It was the first time in her whole life—that she could remember—that her dad had actually hugged her!

  Tears welled up in her eyes and she hugged him back as hard as she could. Which started him coughing. He pulled back and reached for his cigarettes.

  “You really should quit those,” she said gently.

  “I know. It’s the stress. When you get me my factory back. Or that tower…” He burst into a coughing/laughing fit, and she had to join in just to release all the pent-up emotion.

  When they approached the street with the factory on it, she grew nervous. The stakes were so high. What if she screwed up and lost the race and disappointed him? “There it is.”

  “What a dump. But the land is worth a fortune.”

  “That’s why James bought it. What were you planning to do with the land?”

  “A hotel. Or a shopping mall. I had several business partners interested.”

  “I could be your business partner.” She could even launch the store she’d discussed with James. And this would be a chance to work closely with her dad every day! “We could work on the idea together.”

  He looked at her with surprise, and not a little suspicion.

  “But only if you wanted to, Dad. I don’t want to meddle in your business.”

  He laughed and coughed again. “You’ve turned into quite a firecracker, Fifi. You’ve got a lot of your grandmother in you.”

  “Your mom? I never met her. What was she like?”

  They enjoyed a luxurious lunch at an outdoor restaurant with a view of the water. He told her stories of family members she never knew existed, opening up a whole history for her that gave her insight into both her dad and herself.

  After a couple of drinks, and a large serving of steak, he seemed transformed back into the confident tycoon of her earliest childhood memories before her parents split up. Soon he’d be brandishing crisp banknotes and Cuban cigars and ordering drinks for his friends, the way she remembered from her childhood. It thrilled her that she could play a role in getting her dad back on his feet.

  But every time she thought about James, she got a sharp pang of guilt. Would he be hurt? Probably not. She knew he didn’t love her. He hadn’t even pretended to. After last night’s little introduction to Singapore’s Mr. Big, she was pretty sure that marriage to her was simply a part of James’s plan to ingratiate himself with the local magnates. She wasn’t entirely sure why she fit the bill, but James must have thought it through and liked her credentials for some reason.

  She didn’t delude herself into thinking he actually cared. When she broke up with him he wouldn’t be crushed and heartbroken; he’d merely be disappointed that a promising deal had fallen through. He’d find someone more congenial and probably be engaged again within weeks. There was certainly no shortage of women interested in marrying James Drummond.

  As for herself, on the other hand…she wasn’t at all sure how she’d feel in the aftermath of this whole mess. Her heart already felt as if it had been though a meat grinder.

  She couldn’t bear to go to James’s apartment last night, though part of her had ached to. They’d have had more of that frighteningly hot sex, which was coming dangerously close to its familiar promise of “making love.” Every time James kissed her she became further entangled in emotions she couldn’t control. The devastating mix of chemical attraction and James’s solicitous and tender affections was capable of bringing almost any woman to her knees. She’d thought she was strong, but she was getting nervous. She was in danger of genuinely falling for him. She needed to keep her emotions—and her body—locked up and as far from James as possible until this whole charade was played out.

  * * *

  Staying away from James didn’t prove to be difficult. He was very busy with some deal he was making. Far from trying to keep him at arm’s length, she found herself wondering why he hadn’t called. Apparently, he thought he had her locked up, negotiations completed, and now he could set her quietly aside until he was ready to close the deal. The only way she knew he was even interested was that he sent her a huge bouquet of flowers every morning.

  Which was more than a little alarming, since she’d never given him her address. He must have researched it, which meant he could have researched her background, too. Apparently, he hadn’t found out anything that worried him, as his emails contained no probing questions. They were sweet and romantic, but didn’t feel entirely genuine. Perhaps his secretary wrote them. Or maybe she was just trying to feel less guilty about her role in this whole marriage charade.

  Then she got a hand-couriered envelope containing a stack of engraved invitations to their engagement party. They’d discussed the dates in passing and she’d been noncommittal. Apparently, James took that as her ready assent to any date he chose. The date was only five days away, at the most expensive venue in Singapore. His handwritten note invited her to send out as many as she wanted.

  Uh-oh. This train was rolling faster down the hill. She hadn’t said anything about their marriage plans to her mom, but obviously her parents would be expected at the party so she’d have to concoct something.

  * * *

  “I know we’re engaged, but we won’t get married for ages, Mom.” They were rifling through racks of bridal gowns at an emporium full of extravagant designer dresses. Fiona hoped she wouldn’t break out in hives. She wasn’t cut out for these fluffy creations, and likely not for marriage, either. Her mom had insisted on coming here today since she was in town right now and might not get another chance to help her only daughter pick a dress for the biggest day in her life.

  “Good. It’s important to get to know someone first. I’d never have married your father if someone had given me that advice.”

  Stung, Fiona lifted her chin. “Then I wouldn’t be here.”

  “I know, sweetheart.” Her mom stroked her cheek. Which made her feel like a sulky teenager. “So in a way it all worked out for the best. But I want you to have a happy marriage.”

  “Didn’t you like James?” Now that she was mad, she couldn’t resist.

  “He seems wonderful.” She heard the edge of doubt in her mom’s voice.

  “But?”

  “I don’t know.” She frowned. “Too wonderful, almost. So tall, handsome, charming…rich.” Her mom smiled. “A little too good to be true.”

  “You don’t think I’m good enough for someone like James?” Now she was getting ticked off!

  �
�Of course you are, my love. I just see you with someone more…normal.”

  Me, too. This whole thing did seem like a crazy off-kilter fairy tale. Sooner or later the witch would show up and start throwing curses around. Or maybe she was the witch. “Well, anyway. I need to find something to wear for the engagement party. But like I said, I won’t be getting married for a long time, so we can move away from this rack of white taffeta.”

  She noticed how she’d said, “I won’t be getting married soon.” Not we. She crossed the floor of the showroom to a rack of somber dresses. “Is it wrong to wear black for an engagement party?”

  * * *

  James picked her up for the party. She hadn’t seen him in five days, so at least she hadn’t had the terrible temptation of looking into those slate-gray eyes shining with desire.

  Until now.

  She climbed into the back of his car with him. He always used a driver in Singapore. He looked frighteningly handsome in a dark suit and a dark blue tie, and she’d forgotten how appealing his smile could be.

  Their kiss sent jolts of energy rocketing to her fingers and toes. “I’ve missed you.” She spoke the truth. Guilt and angst didn’t prevent her from wanting to be with him.

  “I’ve missed you more. I’ve kept busy, though. Our wedding plans are well under way. And there’s a whole month for you to get ready.” He smiled.

  Fiona tried not to freak out. A month was a long time. They could easily have their race and deal with the aftermath with plenty of time to cancel a wedding that was an entire four weeks away. She realized she was chewing her lip. How twisted did she have to be to think about how to cancel her wedding while on the way to her own engagement party?

  The driver dropped them off in front of the hotel, where arriving guests rushed up to James to greet him and congratulate them both on their happy news. Fiona’s eyes bulged as they entered the grand ballroom, arm in arm. At least two hundred guests stood among the potted palms, sipping champagne, and they clapped when she and James entered. She tried to keep a smile plastered on her face while she greeted scores of people she’d never seen before.

  A very tall blonde woman turned out to be James’s mother—she’d quite forgotten he had one. Her name was Inez and she spoke with a central European accent, which took Fiona by surprise. She’d assumed that she was Scottish, or at least English. Suddenly, James’s choice of a foreign bride didn’t seem quite so offbeat. She greeted Fiona with a kiss on the cheek and said she hoped they’d be very happy together. Fiona had no idea what to say, so she babbled on about how much she loved the Scottish estate. James’s mom got a look on her face that said better you than me. She got a sneaking feeling they wouldn’t be seeing too much of each other, until she remembered that they definitely wouldn’t be, because she and James weren’t getting married.

  It was hard to keep the facts straight in her head.

  Her own mom was wreathed in smiles. Gulp. Her dad was nowhere to be seen, thank goodness. Hopefully he didn’t know anything about this whole affair. James still seemed to think that her stepdad was her real father. Since her mom also acted as if he was, and had changed Fiona’s surname to his, the illusion was easy to maintain.

  Afterward she offered to accompany her mom and stepdad back to the hotel, but James stepped in. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Mischief glittered in his eyes. “I’ve made alternative arrangements.”

  Her mom gave her a conspiratorial smile. “Well, we can hardly argue with your future husband.”

  Fiona opened her mouth, but no words came out. Guests were filing out through the grand doors. Her mom and stepdad walked off, smiling. James’s mom was long gone. All the business bigwigs Fiona had been paraded in front of were heading off toward their chauffeured cars. Soon she and James would be left alone. “What did you have in mind?” Her voice sounded annoyingly high and nervous.

  “That’s for me to know and you to find out while it’s happening.”

  “What if I don’t like surprises?”

  “I already know you better than that.” His mouth looked unbearably kissable. “That’s why you’re coming with me.” He threaded his arm through hers and marched her out through the glittering foyer.

  His driver whisked them back to his penthouse in record time.

  “Should I be seen coming up to your place before the wedding?” She glanced around at the empty street as they drove up to the apartment complex.

  “Definitely not. That’s why I told Al to park inside. We’ll take the internal elevator up.” His seductive smile tugged at his lips.

  “You’re a bad influence.”

  “Sorry.” He didn’t sound at all contrite.

  Her skin tingled with the prospect of having James’s hands on it. And damn, but she was curious to get a closer look at where and how he lived. She’d seen the Scottish place he inherited, but this was the castle he’d chosen for himself and she’d only had a small glimpse of it her first time here.

  On her first visit she’d come through the lobby, but this time they took an elevator from the enclosed car park that opened directly into his apartment. The soaring space looked out over the harbor, where lights twinkled on the water. The floor was a smooth, honed marble and the furnishings sleek and modern but comfortable-looking. A grand piano stood near the window. “Do you play?” She walked toward it. Wow, it was a Steinway, probably over a hundred years old, and worth… She couldn’t even imagine. Her fingers itched to touch the ivory keys.

  “A little.”

  “Will you play something for me?”

  “All right.” He shrugged off his suit jacket and flung it over a chair, then sat on the elegant piano stool. His fingers skated over the keys, and then he plunged into a dramatic piece she recognized vaguely. Debussy, maybe? His powerful hands seemed to span the keyboard effortlessly, and music from the magnificent instrument filled the air.

  Great. One more reason James Drummond was too good to be true. He ended with a flourish. “Would you like to try?”

  “Uh, sure.” She sat down and acted as if she was about to play chopsticks. Then she tested the first few keys of her favorite sonata. She glanced at James. He was grinning. “Go on. You’re far too competitive not to top my performance.” His voice was gruff with pleasure.

  She laughed. “You do know me well, but unfortunately you’ll be hard to outdo.” She let her fingers flow over the keys, and closed her eyes as the music drifted around her. The piece seemed to play itself, sound swelling through her whole body and filling the room. When she’d finished she opened her eyes as if waking from a dream.

  “Not bad.” His eyes sparkled. He extended a hand and she took it as she stood, feeling even sadder that she wasn’t marrying James and his incredible piano. “As I suspected, you could probably have a career as a concert pianist. Now, preliminaries aside, let’s head for the bedroom.”

  She laughed. “You’re a hard man to argue with, James Drummond.”

  His bedroom was very large, with a low platform bed covered with a plush white duvet. A contrast of soft and hard, much like its handsome owner.

  They undressed each other slowly, savoring every moment as anticipation built in the air. “It feels like a year since I’ve touched you properly.” James’s voice was husky.

  “At least a year.” Her skin hummed under his fingers. How many more encounters would they have before James knew the truth about her and hated her? Her heart ached with regret for things that hadn’t even happened yet.

  But that didn’t dim her desire to press her body against his and drink in his warm, masculine scent. His arms circled around her waist and made her feel strangely protected.

  Which was ridiculous. Some primeval instincts kicked in whenever James was around and short-circuited all common sense. His warm breath brushed her cheek and sent a thrill of arousal through her. She loved how tall he was, the broadness of his chest, the strong jut of his jaw. There was something so noble about him—entirely aside from his noble ances
try—that made her feel very feminine.

  He kissed her, and that familiar rush of excitement rose inside her. How would she manage when this was all over? Would anyone ever kiss her like this again? She felt her breathing quicken as a growing sense of panic mixed with her desire.

  “I want you.” It seemed safe to say that. The words sounded noncommittal, purely sexual, a confession of desire. But behind them hid a deeper well of longing. She did want James. She wanted to be with him, to talk to him, to touch him, to make love. If things had been different, who knows? They might have had a future together.

  At least they had this moment, happening right now in all its complex and breathless glory. She unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, then licked the contours of his chest. He unzipped her dress and tugged it gently over her head, then painted invisible decorations on her breasts and belly with his tongue.

  Her whole body felt alive with sensation. James was a very deliberate lover, both careful and creative, much the way he must be in business. He sought out her magic buttons with determination and pressed them in ways that made her cry out and sigh and beg him to stop—and not to stop.

  She loved the salty taste of his skin, the slight roughness of his hair and the hard, masculine ridges of his muscles. She searched for his secret erogenous zones and was rewarded with deep groans and sharp gasps when she discovered a new one. Her competitive instincts compelled her to drive him even more wild and crazy than he’d driven her, and the results were impressive and addictive. They were both ready to explode—or implode—by the time he entered her, but they managed to prolong the delicious agony for just the right amount of time before finally letting go.

  She had never had sex like this.

  Fiona had never felt so well matched with a partner. James’s driven and meticulous nature suited her own so perfectly. Maybe they were meant to be together, and all these other things—the factory, her dad, the missing cup—were mere distractions on the road to them living happily ever after. When they lay together in each other’s arms, it seemed impossible that something so trivial as a business deal could separate them.