Authors: Virginia Nelson
Runaway Groom (16 page)
“Huh?” Jackson Cole?
“I’m Brooke Lowry, Assistant Manager, Marketing and PR,” she told him. “And we have important business to discuss. If you want to keep your lucrative contract with Jackson Cole.”
Annoyance and a quick shiver of fear ran through him. “We can talk later,” he told Brooke Lowry, Assistant Manager, Marketing and PR. Suri went to slide out of bed, and he caught her wrist. “Hey babe, don’t go.”
“I think we’d better,” Suri said, slanting him an apologetic glance. He watched in dismay as both girls walked over to the dresser where they’d left their bikinis. Apparently being naked in front of a stranger didn’t bother them one bit, and they donned their suits and retrieved sunglasses, flip flops and their big beach bags. Then Brooke stepped aside as they exited the bungalow with cheery waves.
“Catch you later, Dylan,” Lexi called.
Well, he didn’t give a shit about being naked in front of a stranger either, and this uptight Marketing and PR manager needed to loosen up a little. He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed, then stood. Brooke’s eyes dropped briefly to his junk, went wide again and even in the dim bungalow he could see the pink flush that tinted her cheeks.
She half-turned away and folded her arms across her chest. “Put some clothes on. Please.”
“Meh.” He sauntered over to the bar in the corner and grabbed a beer out of the fridge. He had no problem being naked. “I’m good. Would you like one?” He held up the cold bottle.
She glanced over at him, then did that little straighten of her slender shoulders again and turned to face him, although keeping her eyes on his face. “No thanks.”
He leaned casually against the bar and guzzled down half the bottle of icy cold brew. Damn, that was good. “So what’s up, buttercup?” he said, lifting one eyebrow.
Her mouth tightened. “I really think this conversation is one you want to have with your clothes on.”
Alarm bells went off in his head. “What conversation is that, sweetheart?”
“Please don’t call me sweetheart. This is business. Fine, if you want to do this here and now, let’s do it.” She drew in a breath and looked up at the ceiling briefly. “Head office sent me to talk to you about your recent conduct.”
“My conduct?” His insides contracted.
“Yes. Your exploits have made it into the news, which has gotten back to the executives at Jackson Cole. They are not pleased, to put it mildly.”
He kept his face neutral. He hoped. “What ‘exploits’ would those be?” he asked, his voice bland.
“Things like group sex in the middle of the afternoon.”
He narrowed his eyes at her again and lifted the bottle. “Hey. We were in the privacy of my bungalow and
you
came barging in. What I do on my own time in my own bedroom is my business.”
Her cheeks pinkened again and those dark eyes flashed sparks. He wanted to grin. Yet somehow he knew this wasn’t going to be funny.
“Other things then,” she conceded. “The drunken partying. The orgies that people
do
know about. The dope-smoking and nudity on the beach. We’ve managed to smooth things over with the media on some of the other things you’ve done, not the least of which was being arrested for that Quantas Flight having to turn back to Sydney.”
His back teeth ground together a little at the mention of that. Yeah, that hadn’t been one of his more epic moments, even he had to admit. It had all just been in fun, a little flirting with the flight attendants, and yeah, he’d had a few beers, but Jesus, they’d totally overreacted by turning the plane around. It wasn’t as if he was dangerous, for God’s sake.
Suddenly being naked didn’t feel quite so comfortable, and he set down the beer on the bar and reached for the board shorts draped over the nearby chair. He stepped into them and quickly tied them loose and low on his hips.
Brooke’s gaze dropped briefly once more, tracking over his abs and the shorts, then jerked back up to his face. “For God’s sake, take those off,” she snapped.
“Uh…” He gave his head a little shake. “Okay, sure sweetheart, but I thought you wanted me dressed.”
“Those are Billabong shorts!” she snapped. “You can’t be seen wearing the competition! Do you have some kind of death wish, or what?”
Her words made his insides leap and he stared at her.
“Where did you get those anyway?” she demanded. “Why would you even
have
them?”
He looked down at them blankly. “I don’t know where I got them,” he said shortly, fingers fumbling with the ties. He let them drop to the floor, kicked them aside and strode over to the dresser. He yanked open the top drawer and grabbed a pair of shorts. He had a hundred pairs of them and he was pretty sure most of them were Jackson Cole. He stepped into the shorts, this pair a black and white flowered pattern. He picked up the offending garment and held it over the waste basket, catching her eye and then dropping it in.
“That’s better,” she said. “Geez.”
“My deepest apologies,” he said in a dry voice. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Who knew my nudity would be less offensive than a pair of board shorts made by the competition.” He held out a hand to the small sofa and chair. “Have a seat. Sure you don’t want a drink? I have water, pop…”
“No thanks.” She did move toward the sofa and took a seat, perching stiffly on the edge.
He took a seat too, on the chair adjacent, and gave her one of his most charming smiles. “So, I’m in trouble.”
She eyed him for a few seconds then jerked her chin. “Yes, Dylan. You’re in trouble.”
Great. Just freaking great. “Is Jackson Cole pulling the plug on me?” he asked bluntly. He leaned back, trying to appear casual, but his heart had started to beat a little faster.
“Not right now. But you have to turn this around or they will be. One more chance.”
He frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means, they sent me here to get you and bring you back to San Amaro. Next stop on the tour, right?”
Runaway Groom
Virginia Nelson
He’s ready and waiting. She’s wanting…but wary.
Watkin’s Pond, Book 1
The groom is back in town.
Abigail lost her best friend years ago when he ditched her at the altar like a loaf of stale bread. Now he’s back and determined to do whatever he has to—even lie, apparently—to get under her skin. Although he makes her hormones rev to life in a way that no one has since he left, she is equally determined not to fall for his boy-next-door charm.
His bride-to-be is somewhat reluctant.
Braxton Dean was too young and stupid to know better when he walked away. Years of trying to fill the Abby-shaped hole in his heart have left him empty, and now he’s going to win back his girl—or get over her. But first he needs answers. Particularly why she never responded to any of his letters.
It might take a whole town to make this wedding happen.
With the help of their friends, the two battle it out. The army? An entire town of busybodies. The prize? Happily ever after.
Warning: Contains indignant old ladies, steamy sex (but not with indignant old ladies), seduction cake, and condom bouquets. Yes, we went there.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Runaway Groom
Copyright © 2014 by Virginia Nelson
ISBN: 978-1-61921-805-5
Edited by Christa Soule
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
electronic publication: January 2014
