Angela snorted in derision as she got ready for bed. She couldn’t imagine working for someone like Nick, and assumed that he insisted on complete control of everything having to do with his business, just like he did in all other aspects of his life. Even with a boss as tough as Barbara had been, at least Angela had been free to take her own path, make her own decisions. Barbara might have pushed her hard, might have made most work days a living hell, but she’d always had complete faith in Angela and had encouraged her to think for herself.
And, Angela was pleased to note, that very same sort of self-sufficiency Barbara had drummed into her had spilled over into her personal life. It had helped Angela take control of her life again, had made her into a stronger person, and given her the strength she’d needed to stand up for herself – to her bosses, her family, and, more recently, Nick.
Just before falling asleep, she smiled to herself as she imagined how loudly Barbara would have laughed to realize it had been her influence that now gave Angela the guts to stand up to Nick, to resist his potent allure, and not allow herself to fall back under his spell. In fact, thought Angela sleepily, if Barbara was somehow watching all of this unfold from up above, she was more than likely having a very satisfied drink or two while she did.
***
Nick figured he’d been nursing the same drink for the better part of a half hour now, but given that it was only the middle of the afternoon he wasn’t about to overindulge. His table was tucked into a discreet corner of the lobby bar here at the Gregson Resort in Pebble Beach as he waited – none too patiently – for Angela to make an appearance. That he felt like the worst sort of stalker wasn’t sitting very well with him. In fact, he’d asked himself at least a dozen times already what the hell he was doing here.
He hadn’t been at all surprised when cute, gullible little Cara had informed him rather haughtily that she would no longer be able to keep him apprised of Angela’s personal appointments. They’d been found out, and the only real surprise was that it had taken Angela this long to figure things out. Nick had assured Cara it didn’t matter, that she’d been a big help, and that he appreciated her efforts up to this point. He’d been confident that if he had kept at her a little while longer Cara would have caved in to his very deliberate charm and found some way to continue conspiring with him. But he genuinely liked the girl and had no desire to get her in more trouble with Angela – who was becoming more and more like her former mentor Barbara Lowenstein with each passing day – and not in a good way.
He’d been surprised – and reluctantly admiring – of how Angela had stuck to her guns thus far. Given how deeply she’d fallen under his control four years ago, Nick had rather arrogantly assumed that all he’d have to do was sweet talk her a bit in order to lure her back. But his Angel had most definitely developed claws during the time they’d been apart, and she wasn’t even attempting to keep them sheathed. Claiming her again was proving to be far more difficult than he’d imagined, and was causing him to do things he’d never, ever considered before just to get a woman.
Like driving two and a half hours to Pebble Beach under the pretext of meeting a client, just so he could catch a glimpse of Angela and possibly have an opportunity to approach her. He had, in actuality, played a round of golf earlier this morning with his client Alec Glover – a client who just happened to be the manager of this hotel. The same manager who’d quietly given him the details he’d asked for about the wedding this afternoon.
“It’s out in the garden chapel, with the reception on the outdoor patio,” Alec had told him. “But if you want to, let’s say, keep a low profile while you keep an eye on all the comings and goings, the best place to do that is from the lobby bar. All of the guests will have to pass by that way, including the bridal party.”
Alec, who owed Nick big time for the many donations of autographed football memorabilia made to an annual charity auction he overseed, had also discreetly informed him that neither Angela nor Dwayne were registered guests at the hotel. Nick assumed that they were staying with their families, adding an unforeseen glitch to his plans.
Though to call his actions thus far today an actual plan was really stretching it, he thought. He had no fucking clue what he was going to do when and if he saw Angela, had no idea why he was even here. Up until today he’d fully believed that only women – desperate ones, at that – did this sort of shit – lying in wait for someone, arranging to “accidentally” run into them. He was beginning to think that both Angela and Dante were right – he was, in fact, having some sort of mental breakdown. He knew for sure that Angela was driving him mad with her continued refusal to resume their relationship, and that something had to give – very, very soon.
Nick’s patience – which was usually in short supply to begin with – had very nearly reached the end of its limits when a stream of elegantly attired wedding guests finally began to filter past the bar in a slow but steady stream. It wasn’t difficult to pick them out – the men in suits, the women in varying lengths and styles of cocktail dresses – especially since the guests at the hotel were mostly garbed in “resort casual” clothing at this time of the day.
He recognized one of the guests as being none other than Ian Gregson himself – part of the family who owned not just this hotel but hundreds of others around the world. Ian was the Managing Director of all the hotels in North and South America, and was one of the very, very few people that Nick had actually attempted to solicit as a client. And while Nick did manage accounts for several of the Gregson hotel managers, plus members of Ian’s management staff, rumor had it that the Brit had quite the financial acumen himself and preferred to manage his own personal investments.
Nick toyed with the idea of approaching Ian, even if it was just to say hello, but thought better of such an action when he noticed the breathtaking blonde by his side. Ian had eyes for no one but the gorgeous woman tucked against him, and Nick wisely stayed in his seat, continuing to keep his gaze peeled for a very different woman.
Four men garbed in formalwear, whom he assumed to be the groom, his father, and groomsmen, crossed the lobby next, and Nick checked his watch with barely concealed impatience. Fifteen more minutes until the wedding and still no sign of the bride. Or, more importantly, a particular bridesmaid.
His patience was finally rewarded a short time later when a white stretch limo pulled up to the porte-cochere. One by one the bridal party emerged from the vehicle – the bride, her parents, her sister and Angela. Nick smiled in appreciation at how beautiful she looked today. God knew he despised weddings for the most part, and all of the pageantry that went along with them. But there was no denying how striking his angel looked in her green floral print bridesmaid gown – the deep V-neck and long floaty skirt a perfect style for her tall, slender body, and the color ideally suited to her skin tone and hair.
Her subtle but expertly applied makeup did a lot to enhance her big, dark eyes and wide, full-lipped mouth, as well as highlight cheekbones that were nowhere near as hollow as they’d been almost three months ago. Her long, shiny hair – which he knew was too stick straight to hold even the slightest curl – had been pulled back from the sides and held in some sort of clasp at her nape. The smile she gave the bride – her friend Julia – made her whole face light up, and Nick’s breath caught a bit in his throat as he took in her glowing beauty.
He hadn’t expected anything more than this – the opportunity to get a fleeting glimpse of her dressed up in that beautiful gown. But today was evidently going to be a lucky one for him, as fate presented him with an unexpected bonus when Angela murmured something to her friends before hurrying off in the direction of the restrooms.
Nick waited until the others had left the lobby area to continue on towards the wedding chapel before he stood. A wicked smile teased the corners of his mouth as he ambled leisurely towards the restrooms, seemingly in no hurry whatsoever. He ignored the looks he received from both men and women – the former likely wondering if he was really
the
Nick Manning, the football player, while the latter group was sizing him up for vastly different reasons. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the attention he attracted, a holdover not just from his days of being a professional athlete but of being the son of the world famous – and infamous – actress Sheena Sumner. And while his mother thrived on such attention – lived for it, in fact – he still hated it with a passion, and belatedly wished he’d thought to wear a pair of dark sunglasses and maybe even a hat.
Fortunately the hallway outside of the restrooms was deserted, and he was quite alone as he waited for Angela to emerge. Still not entirely sure of what he was going to say to her, it turned out he didn’t have to ponder the matter for very long.
She stared at him in ill-concealed shock as she exited the ladies room, and he could have sworn he glimpsed fear in her eyes. But that expression was swiftly replaced by anger, and if looks could kill he’d be drawing his dying breath at this moment.
“I can’t believe you had the nerve to show up here,” she whispered. “God, Nick, you can’t be here. Please don’t -”
He held up a hand. “Relax, Angel. I’m not going to crash your pretty little friend’s wedding. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Angela shook her head. “Then why are you here? And I won’t believe for one second that it’s some sort of bizarre coincidence.”
Nick offered up a weak smile. “I actually did play a round of golf this morning with a client – a client who also happens to be the manager of this hotel. I was going to use that as my excuse until I realized just how flimsy it sounded. So, to answer your question honestly – I have no idea why I’m here, Angel, except that I’d go to most any length to see you, I guess.”
She glared at him. “This is beyond belief, even for you. You’ve got way bigger balls than I would have ever believed.”
He laughed. “Well, honey, you ought to know exactly how big they are, considering how many times you’ve been up close and personal with them.” In one swift moment he was by her side and pulling her against him, his lips teasing her ear. “Not to mention the other, ah, oversized body parts you’re very well acquainted with.”
She flushed hotly and tried to squirm out of his grip. “Sorry I don’t have time to discuss the size of your manly equipment right now. In case you’ve forgotten, I do have a wedding to attend.”
Nick caressed her cheek, his thumb brushing over her full, trembling lips. “You make a beautiful bridesmaid, Angel,” he murmured. “And if I was going to the wedding you can be damned sure I’d be staring at you the entire time instead of the bride.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure the groom would be relieved to hear that. But fortunately for all of us you don’t like weddings, do you, Nick? Avoid them like the plague, don’t you? In fact, I’m surprised you’re not breaking out in a rash being this close to one.”
“Which just goes to prove what I’m willing to do so that you’ll come back to me, Angel,” he rasped, his arms tightening around her waist as he pulled her even closer against his rapidly hardening body.
Angela glared at him, and if he hadn’t sidestepped at that precise moment, she would have driven the stiletto heel of her sandal into his instep. “Why won’t you listen, Nick?” she pleaded. “There is nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind.”
“I wasn’t planning on talking, Angel,” he whispered, just before taking her mouth in a blistering kiss.
She struggled against him for no more than ten seconds before he heard her groan and then melt against him, her hands no longer trying to push him away but pulling him closer instead, her slender arms twining around his neck.
Nick was too aroused, too consumed with pleasure, to feel triumphant. He turned her around, shoved her up against a wall, heedless of her dress or the fact that she was supposed to be walking up the aisle at her friend’s wedding in just a few minutes. He needed her too badly, wanted to luxuriate in the feel of her body rubbing up against his, longed to bury himself as deep inside of her as he could get. He ran his hands over her hips, her ass, holding her still as he ground his hugely engorged cock against the notch of her thighs. He kept on kissing her, one deep, drugging kiss after another, as though he was starved for the taste of her – which he most definitely was. She whimpered as he cupped her breast, flicking over the hard point of her nipple with his thumb.
He reluctantly broke the kiss, but only held her tighter, murmuring huskily in her ear, “Jesus, Angel, you’re on fire for me, aren’t you? And I’m burning up for you. I want to take you to bed, fuck you for about a week straight, until you pass out from the pleasure.” He kissed his way down her throat, his fingers still plucking at her engorged nipple. “I’ll get a room while you’re at the wedding, text you the number, and then you can meet me there afterwards. How quickly do you think you can get away?”
She froze in his arms, her hand slapping his away from her breast. “Let go of me, Nick,” she told him in a cold, horrible voice. “Otherwise I’m going to start screaming, and since Julia knows the owner of this hotel very well, his security people aren’t going to give a damn who you are.”
Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back, watching as she smoothed down her skirts and tried valiantly to still the quivering of her kiss-swollen lips. She looked shell-shocked, furious, and incredibly aroused all at the same time.