A Hint of Scandal (3 page)

He loosened his grip on her wrists. Her skin was smooth against his fingerpads. Greedily he drank in the luscious temptation she presented. His thighs shook with the need to lean back into her so that he could feel the inviting cradle of her butt against his erection. Desire rattled through him. He moved his fingers up her arm toward the delicate arch of her neck. She gasped. He jerked back as though burned.

What the hell was he doing? He needed to find out where Kim was, get on a flight to Paris... Instead, he...

He moved to his knees and pulled himself away from her, his mind whirring. “What you provoke in me is a physical reaction—purely animalistic.
Temporary insanity
fueled by six months of abstinence. There’s nothing more I despise in the world than a man or a woman who can’t control those impulses.”

As though the fight had left her, she sagged into the ground, careful to move her body away from his. “Please, Alexander. Let me go.”

Shifting back, he stared at her, unwilling to touch her even to pull her up.

She sat up and pushed her hair out of her face, her movements jumpy, her willowy body trembling. His gaze fell to the impressions on her wrists. He sank back to his knees with a silent thud, feeling an invisible punch to his gut.
Dear God, he had done that to her.
Even in the silver light of the moon there was no mistaking the light red marks on her wrists.

Whatever she had done, however much she had provoked him, there was no excuse. Everything he hated within himself, everything he kept tightly bound, had snapped free in a matter of seconds. Shame spiraled through him, cooling his desire, drenching him in a cold sweat—a familiar sick feeling that greeted him like an old friend.

To use brute strength to control...it was the lowest he could sink to.

He pulled her hands into his and cursed when she pulled back like a frightened cat. “We should run some cold water on your wrists.”

She stood up, dusting away the sand from her body, her gaze pointedly looking away from him. “I’ve had worse. This is nothing.”

He hated the clawing need to explain that he wasn’t that man. But he wouldn’t be able to look at himself if he didn’t. “You probably don’t expect better from the men in your life.” He ignored her gasp. “I expect better of myself.” He tilted his head, seeking again the proof of his boorish behavior. “I apologize, Olivia. Nothing justifies my behavior.”

Her gaze studied him, disbelief pouring out of her stiff shoulders. “I provoked you. I—”

He shook his head. “That’s the pathetic excuse of a weak man.”

She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off.

Stepping back from her, he fisted his hands by his side. “Get dressed. I’ll see you inside.” His words were clipped, his anger at himself coating his throat. “And don’t even think of leaving.”

CHAPTER THREE

I
F
A
LEXANDER
HAD
assumed that he would be less distracted with her dressed, he was wrong. Just as he stepped into the huge open-plan kitchen Olivia entered through the high archway, covered in
his
white robe, the one Kim had borrowed from him two days ago, her honey-gold hair gleaming wet, her skin glowing pink.

He pulled his gaze away from the vee of the robe and poured himself a drink from the bar. The sounds of her puttering around the kitchen beat a tattoo in his head. His patience running dangerously thin, he guzzled down his scotch. The erotic reminder of how it had tasted on
her
was forever imprinted on his mouth.

“I’m waiting, Olivia.”

She slammed the door on the state-of-art steel refrigerator and leaned against it. “Is there any chance of finding food in this godforsaken mansion? Or do you expect me to die of hunger?”

He pushed a chair back and sat down, stretched his legs. A slow ache was beginning to build behind his left eye. “Where’s Kim?”

She glared at him and started digging around in the numerous cabinets. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t play games with me.” He raked a hand through his hair. This morning his life had been mapped out perfectly. He’d been about to marry a woman who was sensible, undemanding—someone who aroused nothing in him except affection and respect, someone who would stand by his side as he gave his sister the life she deserved. Instead, he had slipped the diamond ring on the finger of her antithesis.

“I tend to rebel when threatened—if you don’t already know.” She poked her head out of the drawer she had been searching and ran a hand through her hair. “Add the fact that my stomach is eating itself, I’m very dangerous right now.”

He crossed to her in a minute and cornered her, more annoyed by her presence than Kim’s absence.
An irrational reaction if ever he’d had one.
“Don’t mistake my patience to be a failing, Olivia.” When she tried to turn away, he shifted his body to block her. The scent of her skin surrounded him, assaulting him with images of her in the shower. “Kim was fine this morning. Until you showed up. It’s obvious that she’s somewhere cleaning up your mess again.”

Her mouth opened in protest. She swallowed. The column of her neck drew his gaze. Her hands swept over her stomach. She was nervous and distressed. Finally he was going to get some answers.

“I’m truly hungry, Alexander,” she said, her mouth a beguiling pout. “I missed lunch and then ate hardly a morsel at the reception. Can’t you order your famous French chef to whip up something? Preferably something substantial.”

He fisted his hands, digging deep inside himself for the last scrap of patience. The nerves in his temple stretched taut, as if they would snap at any minute. He pointed her toward the phone on the wall.

With a cheer, she plucked it from the wall and rattled away in French, ordering enough food to feed an army.

He threw her cell phone onto the glass table in between them, along with the giant metallic silver handbag he’d picked up from Kim’s suite. “Call her.”

Her eyebrows shot into to her hairline, her molten gaze looking daggers at him. “You went through my things?”

“You stood next to me and pledged to be my wife.” He smiled, despite the fact that the situation was slipping out of his control. “Life’s a crapshoot.”

She tucked the phone into her bag, a frown on her face. “Didn’t you see the calls I’ve been making every fifteen minutes? She’s not picking up.”

“Then we’ll go find her. Tell me where she is.”

For the first time this evening she looked anxious. “I don’t know. I think she wanted to postpone the wedding but didn’t know how to tell you.”

She folded her hands and leaned against the gleaming marble counter, a little frown furrowing her brow. He followed her glance to the floor-to-ceiling glass doors leading to the beach and the silence he had always cherished was suffused with tension.

“I don’t think she left the island. She said she would be back by now.”

“You think this a joke?” He hated the spiraling tension he could feel in himself. He needed to get control of this situation, and if that meant dealing with someone who didn’t have a responsible bone in her body, so be it. “Why would Kim walk out at the last minute if it wasn’t to deal with whatever mess
you’ve
gotten yourself into this time?”

Olivia glared at him. “Do you think anything in the world would tempt me to spend time with you other than for my sister? Whether you believe me or not, I did it because Kim asked me to. Now, if you’re done blaming me for
helping you,
I would like to get out of here.”

“You can’t leave.” His face settled into a mocking smile. “Even if that sounds very unappreciative of me after all your
help.
”

Sarcastic jerk.
“Listen, Alexander. All Kim said was that she couldn’t marry you
today.
God knows why.”

Olivia felt a tightness around her chest. Her sister hadn’t confided in her. Kim had always been the rock between the two of them. It didn’t bode well that she’d had to leave on the day of her own wedding.
That was just not...Kim.
Fear for her safety began a rapid tattoo inside Olivia’s head.
Where was she?

“But she still wants you. I mean, she persuaded me into this deception precisely because
she didn’t want to lose you—
as she put it.”

He didn’t bat an eyelid. “If there had been a problem Kim would have come to me—not gone through some elaborate deception and roped
you
in, of all people.”

Meaning he had a special dose of contempt reserved just for her?
She let his comment pass by, even though his prejudice pricked her. She was used to it now. She was, truly. Yet it still shocked her that people judged her based on her history before spending even an hour with her.

“So, if she had come to you and said that she couldn’t marry you tonight it would have been okay? Because she said you would hate even a
hint
of scandal.” She should stop there, the oh-so-small sensible part of her warned her. But she had left that part behind years ago. “Not that it really
is
scandalous to postpone a wedding.”

“You slapped my friend at my engagement party and made a spectacle of yourself. A man with whom you broke a business contract after he had been decent enough to hire you.”

His lush lower lip tapered into a stiff line, hardness entering his blue gaze, and she braced herself.

“Even the word
broke
is too professional for your conduct, because you simply upped and left one day, didn’t you? Nothing is scandalous enough for
you,
Olivia.”

It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. But his scornful words lanced through her and found a vulnerable spot, leaving her shaken to the core.

“Assuming you’re telling the truth,
if
Kim had talked to me I would have been married to her—instead of arguing about what constitutes a scandal with
you.
”

Olivia took a deep breath, trying hard to suppress the fury rising through her. This wasn’t her fight. She couldn’t and she
didn’t
care what he thought of her. She had done what her sister had asked her to do. Still, his arrogant assumption that Kim would have gone through with the wedding rankled. Didn’t he care about Kim’s feelings?

Obviously he didn’t. Appearances were everything to Alexander King. Even the knowledge that she was in his life for no more than a day couldn’t dispel his distaste. And her twin was planning to spend her life with him. She couldn’t let him get to her.

“But she
didn’t
talk to you. My sister asked me for help and I stepped in. And I look forward to the moment when you know the truth and will grovel at my feet for forgiveness.”

Hell would freeze over before Alexander King groveled at her feet. She knew that. But a girl needed her wild fantasies to keep going. It was right up there with making out with Johnny Depp and being able to survive on strawberry martinis. It was better that he’d found her out. She didn’t have to pretend to be Kim anymore and could go back to her own life. Far away from
make-one-mistake-and-I’ll-cut-you-out
Alexander King.

“So really there’s no reason for you and me to stick it out here.”

She would have been less shaken by a display of temper in response. But the absolute silence that met her declaration made the hairs on her neck stand up. His broad shoulders blocked everything else. The hint of stubble on his jaw gave him a roguish look. The folded cuffs of his white shirt displayed strong forearms. Her throat dry, she stared back, waiting.

She steeled herself for some scathing remark, but could do nothing about the awareness spreading through her limbs as he loomed over her. He smelled like dark chocolate wrapped in decadent male arousal. If she could bottle the scent she’d be able to sell it without writing a slogan for it. One whiff and women of all ages would be falling over themselves for it.

His finger flicked the tip of her nose, his blue gaze glittering with dark amusement. “You’re not suggesting I go on our honeymoon by myself, are you?”

Her smile faltered on her lips, her gut dropping through an endless fall. “You can’t be serious,” she murmured. His posture screamed unyielding determination, confirming her worst fear. “There’s no need. Kim will be back.”

“Then you better start hoping she’s here tomorrow morning.”

She gripped the counter behind her. “I can’t go anywhere with you. We hate each other, remember?”

He laughed, the rippling sound of it surrounding her in overwhelming waves. “Yes, but not as much as I hate being front-page fodder for trashy tabloids.”

“This isn’t funny.” She moved away from the intoxicating scent of the dratted man and opened the calendar on her phone. “I have to do a pitch for our agency in two weeks. I can’t miss it.”

“Still playing at being the hardworking career woman?” His gaze dropped to the sketch pad peeping out of her handbag and dismissed it the next second. “Give it up, Olivia. You don’t have it in you.”

Her breath whooshed out of her, his words dealing a nasty punch to her middle. Before the phone slipped from her shaky fingers she threw it back into her bag. The pitch to LifeStyle Inc. was the only thing that could build her career—her only opportunity to silence corrosive comments like his. She couldn’t miss it. She pushed out the fury scratching at her throat and steadied herself. “It’s your honeymoon, Alexander. No one will know you’re by yourself unless you advertise it.”

His fingers gripped her arm and turned her around. His gaze was frantic in its search of hers. “You truly live in your own world, don’t you?” Bitterness laced his every word. “The press hounds me wherever I go, whatever I do, and I refuse to throw even a morsel of scandal their way. If you’re not going to tell me the truth, you’re damn well going to stick with me until Kim’s back.”

Unable to control the rising hysteria inside her, Olivia pushed him back with force, every muscle in her flexing with the need to escape. This day couldn’t get worse. Was the universe finally catching up with her in the form of this infuriating man?

“Fine. I’ll go with you. But I have to return to New York in two weeks. If you try to stop me. If you....” She blew at a lock of hair that fell on her forehead, fighting the urge to pummel him. “Remember, nothing is scandalous enough for me—
and
I have nothing to lose.”

“Not even your sister’s happiness?”

“I’m seriously beginning to doubt if that lies with
you
.” She ran her fingers over her forehead, her head throbbing with increased pressure. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. Only stared at her searchingly, his blue gaze inscrutable. And Olivia knew she had been wrong earlier. The day had just gotten much worse—kick-you-while-you’re-down worse.

His gaze glittered with unspoken warnings. His mouth was an uncompromising line. “Paris.”

* * *

Only Olivia Stanton could look like a deer caught in headlights at the mention of Paris.

Alexander stood with his hands folded, his mind whirring, waiting for his staff to finish laying out food on the table. The delicious aromas assailed his nostrils. But even Pierre’s culinary talent couldn’t entice his hunger tonight. At least not for food.

He should have been in his bed tonight with Kim, lost to the world. Respecting her wishes to take it slow, he hadn’t pushed her—which meant he hadn’t had sex in six months. Ironic that his libido ran rampant tonight for a woman he didn’t even like. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and turned his head this way and that, trying to loosen the stiffness in his neck muscles.

He turned around as his staff left.

Her face lit up like a child’s on Christmas, Olivia was eying the fragrant dishes on the table. Despite himself, he smiled. “I thought you would be too upset to eat?”

Settling down at the dark oak table, she shrugged. “That’s your problem.”

She bit into a sandwich, slid a little lower in her chair, her head thrown back, and moaned, highlighting the delicate jawline, the graceful arch of her neck. He cursed, feeling too warm in his clothes.

“Like everyone else on the planet, you assume you know me. You don’t. For the record,
I am
upset. But it doesn’t mean I’ll starve myself.”

She took a sip of wine and then got up and sauntered over to the intercom again. He watched in fascination as she thanked Pierre in perfect French, a teasing smile coloring her words. She’d probably won over Pierre for life.

Alex moved toward the table, picked up a French fry and popped it into his mouth. He almost missed the look she threw over her shoulder at him. Almost. She was laughing, lounging casually against the wall. But he didn’t mistake it for anything other than the show it was.

He couldn’t trust Olivia as far as he could throw her delectable body. She wasn’t going to mutely follow orders. He knew it as surely as the tightness he felt in his muscles as she licked her lips and laughed.