by Karen Booth
“It was so clear on Sunday that you needed convincing. I thought this might help.” He popped the box open. Inside was a glimmering diamond solitaire on a slender platinum band. “This isn’t the way I planned this. At all. But I’m tired of waiting. Will you marry me?”
Don’t wait to be happy. Her dad’s words rang through her head like church bells. “Yes, Grant. God, yes. Of course I will.” She lowered her head and placed a careful kiss on his lips. She didn’t want to hurt him. Not now. Not ever.
He surprised her by gripping her arm and he pulled her closer, then kissed her with such passion that it made her dizzy. When he pulled back, Tara rested her forehead against his.
“That kiss hurt, but it was totally worth it,” Grant said.
* * *
Grant stayed in the hospital for three days, which as far as he was concerned was three days too long. He still couldn’t believe his big plan to propose to Tara had been ruined in that way, although he had to admit that it paralleled their entire history—rocky, but ultimately solid. She made him so happy by saying yes. It was the sweetest word he’d ever heard, and he’d been waiting an awfully long time to hear it.
Tara brought him back to his house, where he would work from bed for a week until he could return to the office. He wasn’t eager to get back to business; he was more eager to feel well enough to make love to Tara and take full advantage of their new status as engaged couple.
“Hey there. How’s my handsome patient?” Tara padded into his bedroom with an armful of stuff—a bottle of water, an orange and his laptop. “I figured you would probably want to check email. The whole world has been so worried about you.”
Grant took the computer from her and set it aside on the bed. Tara placed the other things on the bedside table. He scooted over and patted the mattress. “Come. Sit. I want to talk.”
She delivered a sly grin. “You sure that’s all you want to do?”
“I’m working up to that. For now, yes, a conversation.”
Tara planted herself on the edge of the bed and pulled up one leg, intently focused on his face. “Okay. Go.”
He laughed and took her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips. “You need to stay at Sterling. I know you said you aren’t sure about that part, but if you want to stay, you should. We need you. I need you.”
“We haven’t heard back from the city yet. They’re supposed to announce who made it to the next round today. I keep checking my phone for an answer.”
She was missing the point. “I don’t care about the city. I mean, I do, because I want this for you, but long term, it doesn’t matter. You were always meant to be a driving force at the company and it’s my job to make that happen. To restore things to the way they were supposed to be.”
“We’d have to figure out how that’s going to work. What my real responsibilities would be.”
“I think we should be co-CEOs. Run the company together. As equals.”
True shock crossed her face. “Oh wow. Do you really think that will work? Won’t that ruin your dream of running the ship?”
“Tara. Darling. You are the love of my life. You are my dream. Everything with Sterling is gravy. Seriously.”
Tara drew in a deep breath, nodding, seeming to process everything he’d said. “I’d get to have the office next to yours?”
“That goes without saying. Whatever you want. You can start picking out furniture as soon as possible.”
“And you won’t get sick of me? Being with me at work all day and then having to see me at night, too?”
A deep and hearty laugh left his throat. “You have got to be kidding. That sounds amazing.”
She smiled and leaned closer, then kissed him softly on the lips. “I love you, Grant Singleton.”
“I love you, too.” It felt so good to be able to say that. To let the words flow freely from his lips. It felt like he’d waited a lifetime to do that.
Tara’s phone beeped with a text. She pulled it out of her pants pocket, then her eyes eagerly scanned it. Her hand flew to her mouth. “It’s from Astrid. We made it to the second round.” Tara turned her phone around to show him the message.
The happiness he felt for her was so pure, he could hardly stand it. He’d been opposed to the project and now it seemed like the greatest thing in the whole world. Well, maybe after having Tara in his life for real. “That’s amazing. I knew you would do it. I knew it.”
Tara tapped out an answer. “Astrid will be excited to be working with Clay some more. I think there might be a love connection going on there.”
“Oh, geez. I think one office romance is plenty to think about.”
“You know...” Tara set down her phone. “We wouldn’t even need to get approval from the other shareholders for you and I to be co-CEOs. Between you, me, Astrid and Miranda, that’s seventy-one percent. That’s more than enough to pass a vote.”
“You sure you can keep the other wives in line?”
She nodded, seeming certain of herself. “Astrid is on board, for sure. She’s really come into her own in the last few weeks. And Miranda will be ecstatic that we’ve passed the first hurdle with the Seaport project.” Tara gnawed on her finger. “I still need to talk to the city about naming the park after Johnathon. She wants me to work on that.”
Grant shook his head and curled his finger to invite Tara closer. “Come here.” He didn’t want to talk any more about Johnathon or Astrid or Miranda. He didn’t want to talk about work. He wanted to enjoy this moment with his future wife. She pressed another soft kiss against his lips.
“We shouldn’t start anything, Grant. You’re still recovering.”
The hell with that. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, then rolled her onto her back. He hovered above her, his ribs aching, but not caring at all about the pain. She was everything he’d ever wanted. And it was time to start their lives together, for real.
Her eyes were wide, her hair splayed across the bed. “Grant. You’re injured. What’s gotten into you?”
“I love you, Tara. That’s what’s gotten into me.” He lowered his head and whispered in her ear, “And I can’t wait to turn you from a Sterling into a Singleton.”
* * *
Don’t miss the next story in
Karen Booth’s miniseries, The Sterling Wives:
High Society Secrets
Coming soon from Harlequin Desire!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Secret Crush Seduction by Jayci Lee.
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Secret Crush Seduction
by Jayci Lee
One
What the hell kind of boy band medley is this?
A handful of young women—much younger than Adelaide Song’s twenty-six years—were spinning around in a circle on the dance floor at Pendulum, screaming along to some bubblegum pop song. It was early in the evening, and they were sloppy drunk.
Adelaide was most definitely not in the mood to play Ring Around the Rosie at her cousin Colin’s nightclub. After the face-off she’d just had with her grandmother, she needed to lose herself in good music and dance off her frustration.
What was the Tuesday DJ doing up there on a Friday night anyway? She hunted down Tucker, the top DJ and manager-in-training, to remedy the situation.
“Hi, Tucker.”
“Hey, Adelaide. You haven’t been in for a while. How are you doing?”
“I’ve had better days.” She smiled wryly. “Why is Ethan up there? I can really do without the over-the-top pop tonight. It’s a Saturd
ay night. Let’s get some real jam going.” Adelaide looked over her shoulder and out into the club. “By the way, where’s Colin?”
“He had a meeting and asked me to hold down the fort.” The heavily pierced and tattooed DJ stared at his shoes and fidgeted under her scrutiny. “Ethan begged me to let him play for an hour, and I felt bad for the guy. He’s a good kid.”
“A good kid who is playing Tuesday night pop on a Saturday night.”
“I got you. I’ll take over,” he said with a shy smile.
“Thank you. You’re the best.”
And it was true. He was an immensely talented DJ, and he should be proud of his mad skills. Within minutes, the sensuous, liberating strains of Tucker’s magic filled the air and calmed the tremors of frustration quaking under Adelaide’s skin.
For the last two years since she’d finished her MBA, Adelaide had been begging her grandmother to let her take her place at Hansol Corporation—the family’s multibillion-dollar apparel empire—but her answer was always, “Maybe next year.” It broke Adelaide’s heart because those words really meant that Grandmother still hadn’t forgiven her for her wild years in college.
It had been a time of switching from boyfriend to boyfriend, partying too hard to care about classes and distancing herself from the family. It wasn’t until her last year in college that she’d rediscovered her thirst for knowledge. She had cleaned up her act and learned to balance her responsibilities and recreations. That was nearly six years ago. But to her family, she was still an irresponsible wild child incapable of contributing anything of worth to Hansol. She felt a twinge of shame at her desperate plea to her grandmother. I’m not that kid anymore.
Refusing to let herself drown in sadness, Adelaide strode to the dance floor with sharp clicks of her stilettos and headed for a corner stage raised three feet from the floor. She gripped the railing when she reached the top and exhaled through pursed lips. Then she closed her eyes and let the music flow through her. The rhythm always grew in the pit of her gut and spread to her hips, legs, then the rest of her body. When it filled her to the brim, she danced.
Everything disappeared as it always did. Her loneliness. Her insecurities. Her grandmother with her dismissive words and disappointed eyes. They all shrank and blurred as she moved her body, carried away by the music and its beat.
Her song came on. The bass in the music shook the dance floor and pounded in her blood. Primal and raw. She closed her eyes and lifted her arms above her head, tracing the outlines of the song with her body. She no longer existed. There was the song and she was its instrument. Adelaide wasn’t there anymore. She just danced. Danced until she was erased.
She heard a rough growl from beside her. The sound merged with the music in its feral possessiveness. It wasn’t until a pair of strong hands grasped her upper arms that she realized a person had emitted the sound. A very tall, blazingly furious man person.
“Goddammit, Addy. What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you, too,” she said with cool detachment.
Inside, she shivered with awareness and need that refused to be stilled. Michael Reynolds. Her older brother’s best friend, and her first love. Unrequited, of course. He treated her like she was his kid sister for the most part. In the meantime, she was burning up from his innocuous touch.
“Let me take you home,” he said. “Your grandmother’s worried about you.”
Damn it. She wasn’t finished flushing out the anger and melancholy from her system. Her insecurities were rampaging in her mind, and she couldn’t handle any more heartache tonight. So she closed her eyes again and danced to make Michael disappear, as well.
Since he still held her arms, she placed her hands on his broad chest and assumed the junior high slow dance position. But rather than shift awkwardly from foot to foot, she swerved her body in languid waves in time with the music. Michael stood frozen for a few beats, then expelled a sound between a cough and curse.
“I’m taking you home. Now.” He abruptly picked her up off the floor with an arm under her thighs and the other cradling her back, frowning down at her with the same look everyone bestowed on her. Disappointment.
Enough.
“Stop with the Kevin Costner impersonation, and put me down,” she said, pushing against his shoulder.
“No way.” A hint of humor sparked in his eyes. “I remember how fast you can run. I’m not in the mood to chase you.”
Adelaide spied movement from the corner of her eyes. The club bouncers were heading toward them with fists clenched. They knew she was Colin’s cousin and were a protective lot, and Michael was carrying her out of the club, looking angry as hell.
“Oh, for God’s sake. I’m not a ten-year-old, Michael.” She struggled in earnest. If the idiot didn’t put her down, he would get beaten to a pulp by the bouncers before she could de-escalate the situation. “You need to put me down. I’ll walk out with you.”
“Adelaide? You all right?” Too late. Four of the loyal bouncers had surrounded them. “I suggest you get your hands off of her, buddy.”
“I suggest you go back to your posts, gentlemen.” Michael’s arms tightened around her, and a dark, recklessness entered his eyes. Why was he acting like this? “I’m escorting Ms. Song home.”
A baseball mitt–sized hand with an impressively large signet ring closed around Michael’s shoulder. He tensed for a second then he loosened his arms and set her down. Now he’s letting me go? I’m the only thing between the giant fist and his face.
Adelaide spun around to face the guys and plastered the back of her body against Michael’s chest and thighs. Reaching her arms behind her, she held tight to whatever part of him she could reach. She wouldn’t be able to hold on to him if he really wanted to move, but she could hopefully slow him down. Every second was precious for de-escalating the impending disaster.
When his body went taut and hard, Adelaide flexed her hands, wondering if he was getting ready to pounce. Through the roar of her instinct to protect him, she belatedly realized which part of his body she was holding—the exact point where his incredible ass met the back of his thighs. She gingerly cupped her hands to make certain.
Yup. I’m grabbing his ass.
She released his backside faster than she could gasp and gripped the sides of his pants in her fists, gathering as much fabric into her hands as possible.
“Settle down, guys.” She injected her voice with steel to hide the slight tremor behind it. “My big brother decided to send his best friend to rescue me from myself. You know...from the drinking, dancing and general debauchery.”
To her gratification, all the bouncers sputtered in outrage at the very idea. At least they knew what she was made of. She could take care of herself and then some.
“I know, I know. It’s ridiculous, but he’s practically my brother. Sometimes he treats me like the little girl I was when we were growing up together. He must see some invisible pigtails on my head.” She scanned the immediate vicinity and saw the beginnings of curious eyes swiveling their way. “But you guys are my friends and know I can handle this, right? So please go back to work before we create a bigger scene.”
* * *
As the mountainous bouncers retreated, baring their teeth at Michael for good measure, Adelaide stepped away from him. He felt the loss of her warmth acutely. Michael wanted to draw her back to him and return her small, strong hands to his ass. Hell. He was a complete dick. This was Adelaide. Garrett’s baby sister.
She was right. He practically was her brother. He’d watched her grow from an adorable baby with alarmingly pudgy cheeks to an angry, sullen teenager. In many ways, he’d continued to think of her as that rebellious teen rather than the grown woman she was now. But practically her brother? Her words settled like a lump of coal in his stomach.
“Come,” Adelaide commanded between gritted teeth, grabbing his hand in a death gr
ip, and led them toward the exit.
He followed without argument.
When Mrs. Song called to ask him to check on Adelaide, Michael had tensed with concern. Grace Song was not a woman who fussed. She ruled Hansol Corporation and her extended family with an iron rod and swung it with chilling accuracy as needed.
If the formidable Song family matriarch had a soft spot, it would be for her only granddaughter. In her eyes, Addy was still the seven-year-old girl who’d lost her mom to cancer, which had caused her father to withdraw into his grief. Both parents, suddenly out of reach. Mrs. Song granted Adelaide more leeway than any of her children or grandchildren. If she was reeling her granddaughter in, something big must’ve happened.
Michael had shoved aside a pile of work to come searching for Adelaide, and found her dancing on a stage at Colin’s club with hungry eyes ogling her. Fury swelled in his throat just thinking about it. Michael gripped Adelaide’s hand more firmly and steered her toward his car. It had taken everything he had not to shove away the men surrounding her. He had no right or reason to feel possessive of her, but in that moment, his mind had screamed that she was his. Which he chalked up to temporary insanity.
“What the hell is going on, Addy?” He pulled her close to his car and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You were making a spectacle of yourself.”
Adelaide winced and jerked out of his hold. He’d hurt her with his hard, judgmental words, and he immediately regretted them. But he’d wanted to lash out at her. The memory of her dancing on the stage like a siren and the men gathered around her had triggered something inside him. The dismay, fury and...lust that swirled inside him in that moment unhinged him. He was confused and angry with himself, and a little angry with her even though she’d done nothing to deserve it. He felt like he was falling headfirst into an abyss, but that was his problem. It wasn’t fair to drag her down with him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her expression schooled into a bored, sardonic smirk.
