And tonight was their wedding night.
She challenged him to turn anger to desire, to feel her lips slick and trembling under his, all sweetness and surrender and passion. The normal logic of his list and his plan and his need for a business marriage flew out the window.
He decided to claim his wife.
…
Alexa felt the man on top of her hold his body in a tight muscle lock. She’d been so intent on their argument she’d forgotten he pinned her to the carpet. She opened her mouth to make another smart remark about bondage, then stopped. Met his eyes. And sucked in her breath.
Oh, God.
Primitive sexual energy swirled between them like a tornado gaining speed and power. His eyes burned with a sheen of fire, half need, half anger as he stared down at her. She realized he lay between her open thighs, his hips angled over hers, his chest propped up as he gripped at her fingers. This was no longer the teasing indulgence of a brother. This was no old friend or business partner. This was the simple want of a man to a woman, and Alexa felt herself dragged down into the storm with her body’s own cry.
“Nick?”
Her voice was raspy. Hesitant. Her ni**les pushed against the soft fleece with demand. His gaze raked over her face, her br**sts, her exposed stomach. The tension pulled taut between them. He lowered his head. The rush of his breath caressed her lips as he spoke right against her mouth.
“This means nothing.”
His body contradicted his words as he claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss. With one quick thrust, his tongue pushed through the seam of her lips to travel beyond. Her mind fogged, caught between the dull pain of his statement and the pleasure pounding through her in waves. She gripped his hands and hung on, reveling in the dark taste of hunger and expensive chardonnay, rocking her hips upward to meet the hard length of his body, and rubbing her ni**les against his chest. She lost control in those few moments, the ageless empty void for the past years temporarily filled with the taste and feel and smell of him.
Her tongue matched every thrust as a low guttural groan escaped her throat. He ripped his fingers away from hers and slid his palms up over her belly and cupped her br**sts. Her ni**les tightened, and he pushed the cloth up higher. He stared at her naked br**sts, and the heat in his eyes nearly burned her alive. One thumb tweaked her nipple and she cried out. His head lowered. Alexa realized this was the moment of truth. If he kissed her again, she’d surrender. Her body ached for his and she couldn’t come up with one damn good reason to stop.
The doorbell rang.
The sound ricocheted off the walls. Nick jerked upward and rolled off her like a politician caught in the middle of a sex scandal, muttering some nasty words she hadn’t known existed.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She blinked at the reserved demeanor of a man who two seconds ago had ripped at her clothes. He calmly buttoned his shirt and waited for her response. Except for the bulge in his black pants, he looked entirely unaffected by the episode. Just as he had when he’d kissed her at her parents’ house.
The heavy meal lurched in her stomach and Alexa fought past the nausea. She took a deep yoga breath and sat up, pulling down her top. “Sure. Answer the door.”
He stared at her for a few moments, as if checking to see if he believed her facade, then nodded and walked out of the room.
She mashed her fingers against her lips and tried to hold it together. She’d made a monumental mistake. Obviously, her recent celibacy had caused her hormones to go insane, until any man who touched her set her off like a firecracker. His last statement flashed in her mind with a mocking finality.
This means nothing.
She heard conversation in the hallway. A tall, leggy brunette entered the room with the ease of someone who knew the house well. Alexa stared at one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen—obviously Nick’s ex.
Chorus girl legs started with black platform heels and disappeared under a pair of silk trousers. Her slim hips were encircled with a silver chain belt, and a metallic stretchy top molded to her small br**sts, dipping at the neckline and exposing the top of her shoulders. Her long raven hair fell down her back in a mass of perfect waves. Not a frizzy curl in sight. Her eyes were a startling emerald color, with long, black lashes. Her full lips set off high cheekbones and she radiated an air of relaxed elegance. She looked around the room, then focused on Alexa.
Alexa knew then she was going to throw up.
The goddess turned to Nick with an air of apology. Even her voice was a husky reminder of sex. “I just had to meet her.”
With horror, she realized Gabriella not only slept with Nick, but actually cared about him. The obvious hurt shimmering in those eyes accused her woman to woman for stealing her man. Part of Alexa watched the scene from above with actual humor. It was like an episode of The Real Housewives of New York gone horribly wrong. At least it wasn’t Jersey Shore. Her crazy thoughts rocketed and she grabbed at the tendrils of her sanity.
Alexa rose and looked up at the skinny goddess who towered over her. She dug deep for composure and pretended she wore real clothes and not a gym outfit. “I understand,” she said formally.
“Gabby, how did you get past security?”
Artfully tousled curls slid over one shoulder. Gabriella reached out and pressed something in Nick’s hand. “I still had my key and the security code. After you told me you were going to marry, well, things got a bit intense.”
The words pummeled Alexa’s sensitive skin like wasp stings. To hell with this. She refused to allow Nick to continue a relationship on the side when they had signed a contract. Therefore, she needed to pretend to be the possessive wife. She swallowed hard and forced herself to smile calmly at her adversary.
“Gabriella, I’m sorry if you were hurt by our decision. It came rather fast for both of us, you know.” She laughed and positioned herself between the two. “We knew each other from years ago and when we met again, we got caught up in a whirlwind.” She pretended to look up with adoration at her current husband, though her fists ached to get one good punch in. He slipped his arms around her and his body heat burned through the thin material of her yoga pants. “I have to ask you to leave. It’s our honeymoon night.”
Gabriella studied them with an assessing air. “Odd you wouldn’t be taking a trip somewhere more…romantic.”
Nick saved her. “I have work obligations so we delayed our island getaway.”