Secrets and Seduction

by Jane Beckenham

  The trouble was, the moment she announced her demand, she knew she’d weaken.

  And she had. Mac had kissed her, and she’d kissed him right back.

  The instant her husband led her back into reception, the sound of popping champagne corks erupted along with a round of clapping, and the nightmare became worse.

  She had hoped, prayed, she could slip away and go home—which was where exactly? She had no home, not anymore.

  “Our Mac’s a sly devil. Didn’t know he was the marrying kind.” Connor Jackson chuckled with a wink in Leah’s direction.

  Needing respite from her husband’s constant scrutiny, she offered Connor’s hovering secretary a tight smile and a silent plea for rescue. It didn’t come.

  Rowena reached over to her. “How I envy you. Mac is a real catch.”

  Leah bit her tongue. Catch would not be the term she would have used.

  “Some bubbles to steady the nerves. I think you might need it.” Mac offered her a glass of champagne, his mouth angled in that quirky half smile she’d come to recognize and crave. When he smiled at her, something in her changed. Her heart lightened. Oh, Leah, you’re so weak!

  “There’s nothing wrong with my nerves,” she said and slugged back the entire contents of her crystal flute, ignoring the teasing tickles as it slid across her tongue. She hiccupped. “Happy wedding day, darling.” Grabbing her bag, she headed for the elevator and fixed her attention on the door as someone exited. She scooted over the threshold and pumped the Door Close button. But luck wasn’t on her side, and Mac stepped in as the doors were about to close. Her frozen fingers clawed at her bag, anything to stop her from touching him, because the want was there, all the time. And damn it, it wouldn’t go away. “I’m going home.”

  “Curtis called you his addiction.”

  The shock of Mac’s statement king-hit Leah.

  “You are an addictive woman, Mrs. Grainger.” And with that, her husband of barely a few minutes reached over and kissed her, obliterating the very last ounce of willpower she possessed as he imprisoned her in his arms.

  And, darn it, she held on tight. In his arms she felt safe, wanted. Desired. Something she’d longed for…since forever.

  As he kissed her again and again, Leah willed the elevator to actually stall for a while, give them time, because Mac Grainger was definitely her addiction in every way.

  He pulled her so close she could feel his erection.

  No! This had to stop. Head tipped forward and resting beneath his chin, her hands splayed on his chest, she drew in a deep breath. Tears threatened, but she held them at bay. She had to be strong. “Please, Mac. Don’t,” she at last pleaded.

  He offered no protest and dropped his arms to his side. Simple as that. He truly was different from Curtis. Curtis never gave up.

  Realization slammed into her heart. She loved Mac. Really loved him, truly and deeply. In fact, she’d known it the moment the celebrant pronounced them man and wife. But it was difficult to admit. She couldn’t go through loving him, only to be disappointed again, hurt and broken, just like before.

  She held herself erect, lifted her chin a tad so that he knew she meant business. “Do not kiss me ever again, Mac Grainger.”

  But Mac’s expression remained steely cool. Heaven only knew what was going on in the man’s mind. She locked on eyes that were hidden behind a curtain of heavy black lashes. She’d spent years learning how to escape, and for one mindless minute, because of one kiss, she’d let her guard down. “I want to go home.”

  “Haven’t you forgotten our honeymoon?”

  “You’re joking.”

  “Do I look like I am?”

  Unfortunately, he didn’t. Her husband epitomized the autocratic air of a man in control. He towered over her, his powerful broad shoulders draped beneath the fine cloth of an exquisitely cut designer suit.

  “We had a deal.”

  “Contracts can be changed.”

  “Not this one,” she declared.

  The elevator doors opened, and Leah dashed out and out onto the street.

  Once again, Mac followed.

  “Leah, wait.”

  And darn it, for some foolish reason she did. She stopped and turned round, only to see the others bundled out of the building.

  There was no escape now.

  Mac tugged her gently into the crook of his arm, a clear indication that she was going nowhere. His index finger caressed the ring he’d only just placed on her finger, offering a silent reminder that she was married to him. He bent his head toward hers. “I know you’re scared, sweetheart. But trust me.”

  “Trust you. That’s a tall ask, Mac.”

  “We can make this work, Leah. We have to, for Charlee’s sake.”

  “That’s a low blow.”

  She could see he was about to counter-argue, but Connor came up beside them. “You two love birds trying to skip away? I’ve booked a table at Partingtons,” Connor said, mentioning the five-star restaurant not far away.

  “Would we do that, sweetheart?” He turned a brilliant smile toward her and then kissed her on her cheek.

  At his touch, Leah’s body surged. Oh dear Lord, what was wrong with her? One minute she said no way, Jose, keep away, and the next she wanted to drag Mac behind the closest bicycle shed and jump his bones. She was blowing hot and cold, and there was no way to control it. She had to be insane. Or madly in love.

  Time ticked by slowly. What she had prayed would be a quick meal with Connor and Rowena proved to be a long-drawn-out process, and by the time dessert arrived, a French wedding cake which gave the Eiffel Tower a run for its money with its towering concoction of ice-cream-filled profiteroles, Leah had a headache of mega proportions.

  Lifting shaking fingers to her temple, she massaged it, breathing in slow, deep breaths.

  It didn’t work.

  The heat, the noise and the throb of music in the background compounded to push her to the edge. White lights jabbed the backs of her eyes, pain ricocheting to every corner of her brain as an invisible hammer slammed against her skull with relentless precision.

  Daring to reopen her eyes, she reached for her water glass, only to knock it over. A pool of liquid soaked into the once crisp damask tablecloth.

  Mac’s brow knotted with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “As if you care.” The moment she uttered the words, she regretted her terse response. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

  “Yes, you did. You are a woman who speaks her mind. That much I’ve learned.”

  Her mouth tightened. Enveloped by a tiredness so heavy she had barely enough energy to lift her lashes, she glanced across the crowded restaurant. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Enough.” He gathered her to him and stood. “My wife and I are leaving,” he informed their small group with determined abruptness.

  There was a chorus of disappointment.

  “It’s time for us to go home,” he said. He reached for her hand and drew her up into his embrace, the warmth of his body enveloping her in a caress.

  “Home?” What was wrong with her that she repeated everything he said?

  “You’ve a headache. You can barely open your eyes.”

  “You noticed.”

  His mouth quirked downward at one corner, and the brush of his thumb against her cheek elicited a nervous flurry in the pit of her stomach. “I notice many things. Your hair, the way you brush it back, hook it behind your ear, the way your skin glows when…” He cut his sentence short, though Leah knew exactly what he’d been going to say. When they made love. Love. Not just sex. “You do have a headache, don’t you?”

  She nodded, wincing with even the smallest of movement. She wanted desperately to go home, to seek refuge in the comforting darkness of her bedroom. Alone. She squeezed her eyes closed. Even the word sounded so sad. So very…alone.

  “Let’s go.” With a quick wave to his friends, Mac guided her through the throngs of diners, and they reached the we
lcoming evening coolness within seconds. Drawing in a lungful of air, she exhaled long and slow as pent-up nerves dissipated. “Where’s your car?” he asked.

  “Down by the Viaduct,” she said, nodding in the direction of the regenerated wharf while she rummaged in her bag for her car keys.

  “Good. It’ll be safe until tomorrow. I’ll arrange for it be delivered back to the apartment in the morning.”

  Her hand stilled their search. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You can’t drive with such a headache.”

  “I’m not sick.”

  Mac ignored her. “Come on.” And with that, he clicked the opener on his set of keys. A light flashed on a silver Mercedes right beside them.

  Leah rolled her eyes. “I might have known you’d have parking right outside.”

  “I had it delivered while we ate. Come on. Let’s go home.”

  He opened the door for her, and Leah stepped past him, angling her body so she didn’t touch him, though for a moment she wished she could give in to the overpowering temptation to lean against her husband again, let him take charge. Give in.

  Silly girl!

  Even thinking about relying on him was out of the question. She wasn’t going to let anyone take charge again, ever! She had too many memories, too many hurts. She had to protect herself and Charlee.

  Yet the niggle taunting her subconscious reminded her she’d already let Mac take charge. He’d talked her into marriage, and how easily she’d given in to the one thing she’d said she would never do again.

  Mac had talked about trust. He’d said they would divorce in six months. Would he let her go then? Would he truly help her gain guardianship of Charlee?

  She had in fact put so much trust in him, a man she still barely knew. She could only pray she hadn’t made another terrible error.

  Her eyes shuttered as if it would block out the nightmarish day, but the moment Mac fired the Mercedes, they flashed open. The car purred, a low rumble that bespoke its exorbitant price. “Another expensive car,” she commented for want of something to ease the silence.

  “Comes with success.”

  Despite her headache, his answer piqued her interest. “You’ve an impressive business record.”

  “Thank you, but it’s not just me. I have a good team around me. We work hard, just like you.” His gaze diverted from the dancing headlights of oncoming traffic. “Why did you marry Curtis?”

  A bubble of air blocked Leah’s windpipe, shocked at what he asked. “Of all the things you could ask me on our wedding day, Mac, that wasn’t one I was expecting.”

  “Probably not,” he conceded with a slight tilt of his mouth.

  “I married because I was naive and believed I was in love.”

  “So that’s why what we have will work.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You yourself said this wasn’t a love match. And you’re older, wiser, now.”

  “Gee thanks,” she said, unable to stem a slight smile.

  “Well, you know what I mean. Look, Leah, I said you can trust me.”

  “And I said that was a hard ask.” Leah closed her eyes then, the rush of the oncoming traffic, the glare of their headlights too much.

  “True,” he answered with a light chuckle. The sound tugged at her heart. “Given the last few weeks,” he continued, “have I ever done anything that wasn’t in Charlee’s best interests?”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “Yeah, well, you know I love her.”

  Oh, dear God. If he loved her, how would he give her up? Just like her. She loved him, and she already knew how damned hard it would be to walk away in six months.

  Mac glanced at her sideways. “What exactly did Curtis tell you about me?”

  “Not a lot. You hadn’t come home in a long time, and Curtis didn’t talk much.”

  “About me?”

  “About anything. Sorry, but you weren’t part of any conversation, really.”

  “That figures. I wasn’t wanted.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m the bad boy of the family. I didn’t fit my parents’ ideas of what I was meant to do, to be.”

  “To take over the Grainger family business?”

  He gave her a curt nod. “Yeah, just like my brother, the Golden Boy. So, what happened to it? Last time I heard, the import business was a roaring success.”

  An uncomfortable tension wormed its way through Leah. Was this somehow part of a test? “It…went,” she said, hedging her answer.

  “Just like that?” he asked, his censure explicit.

  “The business world has changed, Mac, you surely know this.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, your father had a hard time changing with it, and then when Curtis took over, he made some…um…bad decisions. Graingers couldn’t compete with the big box stores and their cheap imports.”

  What she hadn’t told him was that Curtis had borrowed deeply on the land from bank managers and loan sharks taken in by his charismatic joie de vivre, but not one cent of the money had come within an inch of Aroha Farm or the ailing Grainger business. Curtis had thrown it all away.

  Leah held back her tears, turning away from Mac’s inspection. The man seemed to be able to read her far too easily, a distinctly unsettling and frequent occurrence.

  Staring out the window, she renewed her pledge for Charlee. This time it would be different. This time there was no way in hell she would open her heart. She would conquer love.

  The moment the car slid beneath the still opening grille to the underground car park, Leah reached for the door and unbuckled her seat belt simultaneously. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

  Mac switched off the engine and sat back. “Just doing what a good husband does.”

  Dear Lord, she needed space. The cocoon of the sleek car and Mac’s powerful presence were too much testosterone. She was grateful her friend Matty had offered to have Charlee for the night, though she’d been unable to tell her friend she didn’t want to be alone with Mac.

  Now she was—alone and worried she couldn’t hold out against his charm, or his kisses. She scrambled from the car and made for the bank of elevators.

  Mac strode up beside her. “Leah, I’ve got to tell you something…”

  She waved a hand at him and shifted from foot to foot, wishing the darn elevator would hurry. “Not now. Later.” She couldn’t listen to any more; his voice was far too sexy, the throaty timbre constantly edging beneath the armor she’d tried to surround herself with.

  She wondered if she could hold out. Making love with Mac meant losing her heart.

  Stay strong. Don’t give in.

  The elevator arrived, and Leah stepped in. Mac followed.

  “Welcome home, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear.

  Chapter Eleven

  Leah tried to sleep and failed. Instead, she’d spent the last few hours tossing in bed, going over the day in vivid detail. Magically, her headache disappeared the moment she stepped inside the apartment, but she’d been left with a sadness that wouldn’t dissolve. Tonight was supposed to be her wedding night, and despite her avowal of no sex, she wanted Mac beside her. With her. But it had to be her choice.

  On bare feet, trepidation pitted against excitement in her chest, she walked from her room to Mac’s.

  The curtains hadn’t been drawn, and the full moon bathed his room in a swathe of golden-hued moonbeams. A prickly indecision heightened in her chest as she stood silent, watching him. Her heart hammered a thousand-fold. This was a mistake. It was stupid to break her own rule, to give in.

  But there was no way on earth she could stay away from him. Not tonight. Tonight she would forget about her rule.

  “Leah?” Her name on his lips sounded soft and gentle and tugged at her heart.

  Leah exhaled a sigh. There was no going back now he’d seen her. However, she said nothing. One heartbeat passed. Then two. Feet gliding over the luxurious carpet, she walked toward him, aware of the inc
reasing surge of her excitement. Her nipples pebbled beneath her robe, and her lips parted. She wasn’t even close to him yet, but she could almost feel his mouth on hers.

  She found her voice, albeit haltingly. “I…I came.”

  “So I see.” He pushed himself up the mattress so that his head and shoulders rested against the velvet-buttoned headboard. The sheet barely covered his hips, and she could see the rise and fall of his chest.

  When he reached over to switch on the bedside lamp, jagged panic cut across her thoughts. Her hand clamped over his. “No. Leave it off.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s easier if it’s dark.” She didn’t move her hand from his and welcomed his warmth. “Easier to tell you,” she added. In the dark she couldn’t see his rejection. And he couldn’t see her desperation.

  “Tell me what?”

  Leah held her breath, and then the words rushed as if unleashed from a chasm deep down inside her. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said with a sureness that surprised her.

  “About?”

  “I want to revoke the rule.”

  “The no-sex rule?”

  She had expected jubilation or at least satisfaction that she’d come round to his way of thinking, but even in the shadowed room, she witnessed his obvious distrust. Her throat thickened, and she snatched her hand away. “You’re not making this easy.”

  “Ditto, sweetheart. I've had a hard on since…” Mac winked. “Well, forever.”

  Leah resisted the temptation to let her gaze travel down to that part of his anatomy and see for herself.

  “This was meant to be our wedding night,” he reminded her.

  She cleared her throat. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Who for?” His tone held a hint of warning, and Leah fidgeted with the edges of her robe.

  “You and me.”

  “Really? Yet you’ve made it quite clear you didn’t want to marry me. You wanted to call it a business deal. So I’m sorry if you’re horny. When you want me for me, Leah, when you accept what we have for what it is, that we enjoy each other’s bodies and you want me without imposing strictures, then….”