Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride (6 page)

“My bedroom's across the den.” Desire roughened his voice.

“Okay.” She looked and sounded relieved.

If he wanted to sleep better tonight than he had last night he needed to get out of this room, out of this house before he started picturing Lauryn wearing nothing but sleek, wet skin and a dusting of bubbles in that whirlpool tub. With him beside or beneath her.

Too late. He stifled a groan.

“Where are your glasses?” he asked in an attempt to sideline his illicit thoughts.

White teeth pinched her bottom lip and she wrinkled her nose. She looked so damned adorably guilty he almost whimpered. “I…um, don't really need them.”

“Why in the hell did you hide behind shapeless clothing and ugly glasses?” It made no sense. The women he knew flaunted their assets. Hell, they paid good money to have bigger, better assets implanted.

“I learned not to draw attention to my looks a long time ago. Men assume if you're pretty, you're stupid and available.”

“And you aren't available?” He knew she wasn't stupid.

“Not at the moment.”

Her flip response stirred something unfamiliar in him. Possessiveness? No.
Determination
to make sure this plan worked. He couldn't afford slip-ups if he wanted the council and his brothers to believe he'd fallen for his straightlaced accountant and settled down. “And you won't be until after we're divorced.”

“That won't be a problem.”

The certainty in her tone raised red flags. Holy hell, was she gay? Did that explain why no one had seen her on a date? South Beach had a large gay population. Was that the real reason she'd moved to Florida? Because her story about her father had seemed a lame reason to move three thousand miles.

No, Lauryn couldn't be gay. He hadn't imagined the attraction between them or the hunger in her eyes. He'd felt the softening of her lips beneath his when he'd kissed her, and he'd heard her breath catch each time he'd touched her.

He wanted to kiss her now. To prove his theory.

But he wouldn't. Not yet.

Even though his neglected hormones had him in a tailspin.

Forget the candles, flowers and prepared meals he'd asked Cassie to arrange so he and Lauryn could play out the love-birds-needing-privacy farce. He couldn't handle a romantic dinner on the deck tonight. He needed crowds. Loud music. A noisy restaurant. Distractions. Anything but an intimate dinner for two.

“We're eating out tonight. Be ready in ten.”

Lauryn's brow creased. “Cassie said she'd filled the refrigerator with local dishes for us.”

Damn. He'd hoped his half sister had neglected to mention that detail. “She did.”

Lauryn swept back her champagne locks with a newly manicured hand tipped in pearl-pink polish. The muscles of Adam's abdomen ripped as if she'd scraped those short nails across his flesh.

“Adam, I'd rather postpone the whole putting-on-a-show-for-the-locals thing, if you don't mind. I know we have to eventually, but it's our first night here and I'm kind of whipped. Cassie is a shopping machine. Surely if anyone is paying attention to our itinerary they'd expect us to want to be alone sometimes?”

Now that she mentioned it, he could see her fatigue in the faint shadows beneath her eyes and the slight downward turn of her mouth.

For sanity's sake he should be a bastard and insist on going out, but instead he ground his teeth on a frustrated curse.

It was going to be a long night.

“Pick whatever you want to eat and shove it in the microwave. I'm going for a run. I'll be back in an hour.”

And then Adam did something he'd never done before.

He ran from a woman.

T
hursday. Her wedding day.

Lauryn had never been claustrophobic before, but she was getting there fast. The walls of the spacious oceanfront bedroom seemed to close in around her as the clock inched toward the time set for the ceremony. Her pulse raced and her mouth felt as dry and gritty as the sand dunes outside the cottage.

The silk chiffon of her strapless ivory tea-length dress fluttered against her shins as she paced from the window to the door and back, again and again, and the lace bolero jacket abraded her neck and shoulders. Since the ceremony would take place on the beach she'd decided against wearing shoes, and the floor tiles further chilled her already cold bare feet.

Cold feet. Appropriate.

She couldn't help comparing this wedding to her first. Her ex had had an agenda. So did Adam. Only Adam's wasn't illegal and no one would get hurt. Or arrested. Plus Lauryn knew what she was getting into this time. At least she hoped she did.

At eighteen and a day, she'd been incredibly young, naive and hardheaded when her father had forbidden her to see Tommy Saunders again. She'd foolishly believed herself old enough and wise enough to know better than her father. She and her dad had had another one of their legendary screaming matches, but this time Lauryn's mother hadn't played mediator the way she usually did when Lauryn's father went all dictatorial.

Afterward Lauryn had hidden in her room and called Tommy to vent. He'd insisted she was of age and her father couldn't tell her what to do anymore. On a wave of righteous indignation she'd agreed to go to Mexico with Tommy for spring break. Two days later she'd packed her bags, lied about spending the week at the beach with a girlfriend and left. Not one of her finest decisions.

In Tijuana Tommy had plied her with tequila and then asked her to marry him. She'd almost agreed, but even tipsy she'd known better than to cross her father that drastically.

The next morning she'd awoken hungover and with a cheap wedding ring on her finger that she couldn't remember putting there. When she'd freaked out Tommy had admitted he'd slipped something into her drink to loosen her inhibitions and help her make the decision he knew she really wanted to make.

His high-handedness had worried her but she'd loved him enough to make excuses for him. She hadn't panicked until he revealed his scheme over lunch to make them both rich and then she'd suddenly felt queasy and afraid.

Blaming her hangover, she'd excused herself to go to the bathroom, slipped out the backdoor of the cantina, found a phone and called her father.

That was the last time Lauryn had rebelled. After her father had rescued her from that disaster she'd become the perfect dutiful daughter, a straight-A student and as prim and proper as Emily Post.

Emily Post wouldn't be eloping in the Bahamas or neglecting to invite her mother to the ceremony.

Wincing, Lauryn paused by the glass doors leading to the deck. She hadn't called because she didn't want her mother to know about this marriage. Susan would be upset at how far Lauryn was willing to go to gain information about her birthmother, and she'd be hurt. She'd view this as another sign that she'd failed Lauryn as a parent. But other than not revealing the secret of Lauryn's birthmother sooner, that couldn't be further from the truth.

Lauryn studied the beach below her bedroom and tried to calm her agitated nerves. The flowered archway Cassie had ordered for the ceremony stood in the sand between the cottage and the lapping waves. The photographer hustled around checking shot angles or light or whatever it was photographers did.

The doorbell followed by muffled voices penetrated the closed bedroom door. Was that Cassie? The need to see a friendly face overwhelmed her. Lauryn yanked open the door.

Adam, Brandon and Cassie turned in unison.

“I take it you're not superstitious,” Cassie said.

“I'm not.” Lauryn's gaze slid to Adam as if dragged by a strong riptide. A black tuxedo complimented his ink-dark hair, made his shoulders look broader and his legs longer. His white shirt accentuated his tan and made his blue eyes and the flash of teeth in his slow smile seem brighter. He looked like every girl's fantasy groom. Handsome. Wealthy.

Sexy.

She tamped down that thought and dampened her dry lips.

No one will respect or value you if you don't respect and value yourself,
her father's words came back to her.

So no sex and no more Mr. Right Nows. Not even the one she'd marry in a few minutes.

“If it's bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the ceremony then we're already cursed. Adam and I spent most of the day driving from one official's office to another's dealing with the legalities of this…marriage.”

Adam crossed the room, looped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Lauryn stiffened automatically. She couldn't let him keep getting to her like he'd done at the restaurant and airport. The heat of his body singed her at every contact point—breasts, waist, hips, thighs. He feathered his lips across hers and then lifted his head a fraction of an inch. Warning flashed in his eyes.

“You look beautiful, Lauryn.”

Even knowing his compliment was part of the act didn't stifle the pleasure his words sent eddying through her.

“Thank you. So do you.” Her cheeks warmed. She briefly ducked her head before daring to look into his eyes again. “I mean, you look good in a tux.”

He dipped his head again. She forced herself to remain passive as he sipped from her lips once, twice more. Her heart raced and desire tugged like an undercurrent in her belly. She'd have to get used to being handled by him, kissed by him. But she had to shut down her response.

She heard Cassie's sigh. The woman believed this to be a true love match. Lauryn liked her new friend too much to lie to her, but Adam had ordered her to keep their secret.

Ordered.
The back of Lauryn's neck prickled.

Only Brandon knew the truth behind this hasty marriage and Adam wanted to keep it that way.

On the pretext of examining the small wedding cake sitting in the center of the dining room table Lauryn wiggled free. Adam let her go, but she could feel his gaze on her back. She fought the urge to lick her lips and lost. His taste lingered on her mouth and left her hungry for more.

Two bottles of champagne waited in sterling silver ice buckets on a sideboard and through the open kitchen door she spotted a pair of workers hustling around preparing food, presumably for the feast after the ceremony. Brandon, Cassie and the minister were staying for a wedding dinner. As much as Lauryn dreaded the lovey-dovey pretense, having company meant delaying the time alone with her groom, and that was good.

Last night…She exhaled slowly, trying to ease her overstretched nerves. Last night had been a nightmare. She couldn't remember ever being so aware of another person. Every shift of Adam's body on the sofa, each rustle of his clothing or chink of his glass on the coffee table had sounded as loud as a ship's horn. Finally, tension had driven Lauryn to her room for an early night of reading.
Attempted reading.
But a romance with steamy love scenes wasn't what she needed when she wanted to douse any potential flames for her groom. Even with the door closed she'd been aware of Adam's movements throughout the cottage.

Their marriage might be a business deal, but the whole wedding thing seemed so real. So…permanent. But it wasn't. And she didn't want it to be. One day she'd find the right man to build a future with—one who'd marry her because he loved her and not because he had a hidden agenda for marrying.

Like her father had had for marrying Susan. Like Tommy and Adam had for marrying Lauryn. Surely all men weren't that conniving? There had to be some good guys out there somewhere, and when this was over she'd find one.

She forced a smile and turned back to the trio in the den. “Cassie, this is incredible. I can't believe you pulled it all together so quickly.”

“I've enjoyed it. Besides, it's good practice for when Brandon and I get married.”

“And when is that going to be?” Adam asked.

“Soon,” Brandon replied firmly with his dark eyes intent on Cassie.

Lauryn wanted a man who looked at her the way Brandon looked at Cassie—with his love shining like a lighthouse beacon from his eyes.

A brisk knock at the front door made Lauryn jump. Adam headed into the foyer and returned moments later with a dark-skinned, black-suited, white-collared minister by his side. Adam made the introductions.

Lauryn barely heard him through the alarms shrieking like hungry seagulls in her head. She wanted to run. All the way back to California. But she couldn't. Not until she found her answers.

She dug her toes into the rough sisal rug and the movement drew Adam's attention.

“Excuse me,” he said and left the room. Moments later he returned without his shoes and socks. Lauryn's heart blipped irregularly. Adam had looked sexy before, but there was something dangerously appealing about a barefooted, tux-clad man that made her insides feel like a lava lamp.

His eyes met Lauryn's. “The sun is on the horizon. Ready?”

No.
“Yes.”

“Shall we?” He crooked his elbow in invitation.

Under a deluge of doubts Lauryn hesitated for precious seconds and then hooked her arm through Adam's. His muscles shifted beneath her fingers and her nerves and legs quivered.

He handed her a single long-stemmed red rose with an ivory ribbon twined around the thornless stem and then led her out the back door, down the porch stairs and across the warm sand to the archway.

An ocean breeze teased her hair, lifting the unbound strands and pulling at the wreath of flowers she wore instead of a veil. Adam caught a stray lock and smoothed it behind her ear. His fingertips glided down the hollow of her neck. She shivered. With awareness. With lust. Neither of which were welcome.

Cassie and Brandon flanked them and the beaming minister took his place and launched into the vows. At any other time Lauryn would have found the man's melodious accented voice beautiful, but the fragrant frame of the arch seemed to enclose her as securely as a locked jail cell.

A cold fog descended over her. She couldn't believe she was marrying a man she didn't love to find out more about a woman who'd discarded her.

But why hadn't Adrianna wanted her? That question kept Lauryn from running. She had to know. And she was counting on Adam's house holding the answers.

Adam's warm hands tightened around Lauryn's icy fingers. Did he sense her doubts? Her growing panic?

Too late to back out now.

As if he were willing her to finish what they'd started, his gaze never left hers as he stated his vows in a deep, steady baritone. If he had any doubts about the deception they were perpetrating he concealed them well. His hands were steady as he slid a platinum diamond eternity band onto her trembling finger next to the sparkling marquis.

And then it was Lauryn's turn. She numbly repeated the words the minister fed her and prayed this wasn't as big a mistake as her first wedding. She'd trusted Tommy and he'd betrayed her. Would Adam do the same?

She looked at the strong hand in her palm as she eased the wide platinum band they'd bought this morning over Adam's knuckle. Because he'd refused to put their amended agreement in writing, only his word would keep him from consummating their marriage tonight. Or any other night. Could she trust him?

A little late to worry about that now, isn't it?

A whirlpool of mixed emotions churned within her. This was so wrong. She was taking vows. Vows she had no intention of keeping. And yet what other choice did she have?

“I now pronounce you
mon,
” the minister pronounced island-style, “and wife. Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Garrison.”

Mrs. Garrison.

Before she could digest those words Adam cupped her face in his palms and covered her mouth with his. This wasn't a tentative seal-the-deal peck. Adam kissed like a man assured of his welcome. His mouth branded hers, stamping her with ownership, and then his tongue separated her lips and swept the sensitive inside of her mouth as if he had every right to be there.

Tasting. Teasing. Tempting.

His kiss invited her to a party of sensual delights she had no doubt a man of his experience could provide. She hadn't had a lover since Tommy, and he'd been a twenty-three-year-old selfish jerk. The men before Tommy had been just as clumsy, just as selfish.

Adam's kiss promised satisfaction and she felt her control slipping. He overwhelmed her senses with his taste, his scent, his touch, and her hormones did a rain dance in hopes of ending the nine-year drought. The kiss felt so good, so right, that she lost herself in a hot rush of need, dug her toes in the shifting sand and pushed herself deeper into his embrace. Every inch of her body yearned to accept his invitation, to find out if lovemaking could actually be as good as it was in the romance novels she read.