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BOOK: 3 Brides for 3 Bad Boys
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"They are if they include trading on old feelings to talk Phoebe out of Luna Island."

"I'm
not going to hurt her."

"Neither am I."

They were like two stags facing each other, their stances battle ready, and she was in the middle. It was such a novel sensation that she didn't immediately object to being discussed as if she wasn't there.

"Like hell." Carter pulled her toward him, and pain shot up into her shoulder.

"Stop that right now. You're hurting me!"

Carter's hold loosened immediately, but he didn't let go, and neither did Rand.

They glowered at each other, making the very air around them crackle with tension.

"What's going on?"

Rand looked away from his brother to meet her gaze. "I'll explain it when we're alone."

"You're not taking her anywhere, damn it."

She broke eye contact with Rand and fixed her gaze on Carter. This man had broken their engagement with no more explanation than that it wasn't the right time to get married. He had left her to face public humiliation four years ago while he traveled the world, experiencing things she only dreamed of.

His concern was years too late. "Let me go."

"You're setting yourself up for a fall." He looked like he really cared. "He just wants to use you."

"That's not your problem." She tugged at her arm.

Carter shook his head, but released her. "Don't let him do this to you, Phoebe.

He wants the deed to the island. That's all."

The one thing he could not possibly comprehend was that she wanted Rand to do things to her. Wild things. Wicked things. And if it meant giving up the deed to an island she had never even visited, she was more than willing to do so.

Rand started walking again, and she let him pull her along. She wasn't worried about her aunt following. Causing a scene was anathema to her, though Phoebe had no doubt Carter would bear the brunt of Aunt Emmaline's displeasure for letting her leave with Rand. She had no idea what Mrs. Sloane would say and didn't care.

They made it all the way to the car park of the hotel without her pseudokidnapper saying a word.

"Rand!"

He stopped and turned to look at her, his expression strangely dispassionate.

"What?"

"Where are you taking me?"

"To my bed."

Rand watched as Phoebe's perfect oval face blanched of color. "That
is
what you said you wanted."

He didn't know why he was pushing her like this. He had no intention of taking her to bed, but something inexplicable had invaded his psyche when he saw Carter make a beeline for her and her great-aunt the minute he arrived at the charity reception.

Rand had been sure in that instant that his brother was aware of the satellite scan and what it had shown on Luna Island.

Carter had been running Sloane Electronics from the Manhattan office since their father's death. He had not returned even once to their small Massachusetts town after breaking his engagement with Phoebe, but now he had a good reason for coming back, and it had nothing to do with wanting to renew a broken relationship.

The fact that he might use that old relationship to his advantage in securing the deed to Luna Island had provoked feelings in Rand that he didn't like. Didn't want.

Protective feelings he had thought died with his wife and son six years ago.

Emotions he
wanted
just as dead as his family.

He could accept being angry at the thought of Carter trying to seduce the land away from Phoebe because both men wanted what those satellite scans had shown, but the fury that had all but overwhelmed him at the thought of his half brother in bed with the shy beauty bothered him. He should not care.

She was his friend, but nothing more.

"What's the matter, Phoebe," he taunted, needing to make her pay for the feelings she evoked, "changed your mind?"

He expected her to agree and ask him to let her go. Something he wasn't entirely sure he could do and that made him angrier than his half brother's attempt to preempt him with Luna Island.

She didn't say anything, but he could feel the wild beat of her heart in the pulse under his fingers. Her skin was so smooth, so soft. His thumb glided over it, seeking the animal pleasure the small movement gave him. The idea of taking her to his bed was a hell of a lot more appealing than it should have been.

Since Susan's death, he had not wanted any particular woman, just physical release. And he'd taken it, with women sophisticated enough to know the score and accept the tally.

Phoebe was neither of those.

She was white roses, wedding registries and babies.

He shuddered at the thought. Never again.

Which was why he had ignored the way her eyes ate him alive whenever they were together. It was why he ignored his own base reaction to her slender curves and his desire to touch silky hair that looked like warmed honey when she wore it down. It was why he cursed the dreams that were no longer haunted by his dead wife but a twenty-five-year-old virgin who he could not and would not have.

Angry with himself for his lack of mental control and furious with Phoebe for being the source of his sexual frustration, he tugged her to the passenger side of his silver Jaguar. Opening the door, he said, "Get in."

She didn't move.

"What's the problem?" His jaw clenched. He sounded like an angry lion; no wonder she flinched.

Then her chin tilted, and she straightened to her full height, which was a good ten inches shorter than his. "I'm trying to decide if I want to let you boss me around like this, or not."

He wanted to kiss that mutinous bow of a mouth, which was damned dangerous. "You do."

Even sweet Phoebe had her limits. Any second now, she was going to blast him with a pithy lecture on equality between the sexes and then stomp away. Which was exactly what he wanted.

To hell with what his sex was clamoring for. Going horizontal, hot and sweaty with Phoebe was not on the agenda. No way. No how.

Hazel eyes that should be shooting sparks of anger went dark with unmistakable sexual hunger. "Maybe I do at that."

He stood there, sucker-punched, while she got in the car, tucking the folds of her swirling skirt inside and pulling the door shut. Stunned disbelief and desire so strong it made his knees want to buckle held him immobile for several seconds before he circled the car and got in.

He turned to face her. Her hands were twisted together in her lap, and her face was averted.
So much for her sexual daring.
He dismissed the disappointment ripping at his insides as a normal reaction to having to go without sex when he wanted it more than he wanted that damn island.

He started the engine and pulled the powerful car out of its parking space.

"Right. We need to talk."

There was no pretty way to package the truth, so he didn't even try. "Carter came back because he wants Luna Island. So do I."

"I got that much at the reception." She didn't sound real bothered by the fact.

"But what I don't understand is why? I'd understand if you were land developers, but you're not. Your company is into computers, and Sloane Electronics makes televisions and things. What good would a Mexican island do either of you?

Nobody even lives there."

"Satellite scans have revealed a large deposit of lithium."

She stared at him as if he were talking Swahili. "So?"

He found himself smiling. He liked the way she went directly to the point. In a society that thrived on socially acceptable dishonesty, Phoebe's straightforward attitude was more than refreshing. He'd realized in the past few years that it could be addictive.

"It's a mineral that is in short supply worldwide, and a deposit like this could bring down the cost of manufacturing lithium-based products significantly."

"But how could you
both
need it?"

"It's used in flat screen technology for both computer monitors and televisions."

"I see."

"Do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and Carter were engaged, but he didn't come back for you." It was important she understood that and didn't get taken in by his brother's charm.

"Contrary to my aunt's fond hopes, I didn't imagine for a minute that he had."

"You're bound to be vulnerable to him."

"Am I?"

He flicked a glance at her, but it revealed nothing. "You were engaged once."

"That was a long time ago. Things change. People change."

"You haven't married. You hardly date. Everyone thinks you've been waiting for Carter to come back."

"I wouldn't have considered you the type to listen to gossip."

"It makes sense."

"I suppose it does." She adjusted her seat belt across her chest, pressing her delicate curves into prominence. "But whoever thinks I've been pining for Carter is wrong."

Her words registered, but so did the shape of her breasts. He had to make a fast correction to stop from driving off the road as need, sharp and urgent, arced through him.

"I'm glad to hear that." He didn't want her hurt by his brother a second time, but he wasn't sure he believed her.

She'd been devastated when Carter had left four years ago.

She fiddled with her skirt, smoothing it over her knees. "You said you'd give me a week in your bed in exchange for the deed, is that right?"

This time he narrowly missed going up on the sidewalk and swore. "I was being sarcastic. Your aunt and Carter's mother pissed me off. I wanted to shock the look of condescending disapproval right off their faces." The fact that he had wanted to get Phoebe away from Carter, he left unsaid. "I don't expect you to sleep with me. I'll pay fair price for the island and give you an ongoing percentage on the minerals mined."

He drove the Jag into the parking garage for his apartment building and pulled into his assigned spot. Turning off the ignition, he said, "We can go over the details upstairs. You'll probably want to have a geologist's survey done."

She didn't move. "A deal is a deal."

What deal?

No way could she seriously expect him to take her to bed. She'd just been spouting off, protecting him as she often did when she thought someone was criticizing him. It was an endearing trait if unnecessary.

He'd stopped worrying about what other people thought the year he learned his dad was married to a woman besides his mother and he had a half brother he'd never met.

"Come off it, honey. The joke has gone far enough. We need to talk business."

Her sweet lips firmed in a stubborn line. "I'm not joking."

"And I'm no stud for hire," he gritted out.

She looked completely unimpressed by that assurance. "Then I'll just have to offer the deal to Carter. He liked me well enough once to want to marry me; maybe he won't find it such a hardship to take me to bed."

C h a p t e r T h r e e

"
T
ell me you didn't just say that."

She shook her head, her face an interesting shade of red.

Phoebe Garrison, undeniably shy and almost certainly a virgin, had just threatened to offer her island in exchange for a week in his damned brother's bed if Rand didn't stick with the deal. He refused to believe it.

She was silent enough now. Sitting there with her legs crossed primly at the ankle under her silky skirt.

This whole discussion was crazy.

She had to be bluffing, but if she wasn't, his brother could bed Phoebe and have the papers on the mineral rights signed by morning.

Rand's teeth ground together.

He was not taking her to bed, but neither was Carter.
She'd better regain her sanity soon because he was close to losing his. He shoved his door open. "Come on."

She hadn't unbuckled her seat belt. "Where are we?"

"My apartment."

"What are we doing here?"

He rolled his eyes at the question asked in such a tiny voice. One minute she was demanding he pay for Luna Island with his sexual expertise; the next she was acting like a frightened maiden from a medieval fantasy.

"It's where I keep my bed," he said to punish her for tempting him with something he could not have, even as he felt relief that her insanity appeared to be ebbing.

"You want to consummate the deal now?"

The word consummate brought back memories of marriage and loss and renewed his determination to get this conversation back on a rational track. He slammed out of the Jag-Circling the car, he yanked her door open. "Come on."

Her head snapped back, and her startled gaze settled on him. "I … uh…"

"For heaven's sake," he muttered as he leaned over her to unbuckle her seat belt and then help her from the car. "I'm not going to rape you. We need to talk, and now is as good a time as any."

He slid his arm around her waist to lead her to the elevator. He never touched her, and now he couldn't seem to stop. He pulled her closer until their bodies touched torso to thigh, teasing himself and tormenting her. She deserved it.

She did a pretty good imitation of a walking statue, holding herself completely stiff beside him.

And she says she wants me to be her lover,
he thought with a derision that bordered on disappointment.

He leaned around her to push the button for the elevator. The force he used to press the small white square said an awful lot about his mood. None of it good. He used the keypad to access the penthouse level, and the elevator began its silent ascent.

She moved like she was going to pull away, but he tugged her closer. "If you're going to be my lover, you'd better get used to me touching you."

BOOK: 3 Brides for 3 Bad Boys
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