Paper Marriage Proposition (7 page)

BOOK: Paper Marriage Proposition
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Both women’s gazes were drawn to him. Landon turned his head to look at Beth, and as they stared, the corner of his lips twitched. She saw a glimmer of victory in his eyes, shining with satisfaction, as he slowly lifted his champagne glass to her in celebration. The press had bought it. The kiss, the engagement. They’d bought it.

Beth smiled back at him, lifting her own glass in a distant toast.

Partners in crime.

God, she loved having him on her side!

He loved the way she kept scouting the crowd for him.

Hell, he loved the way she kept trying not to smile at him.

And the way she’d melted, like pudding, when she’d kissed him.

“You do realize you’re smiling. Right, Lan?”

Landon tore his gaze from Beth and drained the last of his champagne flute. He’d been smiling? Like some idiot? He hadn’t realized. His mind had been spinning all night, plotting, planning. There was still no unleashing of his anger, and then the lust that had come afterward, with Beth’s kiss. “Halifax was here,” he told Garrett.

“What—tonight?”

“Son of a bitch talked to Beth.”

“Can you trust her, Landon?”

Landon stole another glance at her, one of many this evening. He needed to think with his head.

“I should post someone on her.”

“What about that detective who brought you all the dish on Chrystine and Halifax?”

“Is he still the best?”

“I think so, yes.” Garrett’s eyes, black as coals from their father’s side, narrowed thoughtfully. “Why would you want someone on her tail?”

Landon frowned into his glass, surprised to find it empty. “My own peace of mind.”

“You don’t think Halifax sent her to you, do you? How far can his fury run?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, so pretty as she talked animatedly with Kate. “If it runs as far as mine then there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

Garrett propped his shiny Italian leather boots up on a stone bench. “You can still back out, Lan. You haven’t married her yet.”

Yes, he could. He didn’t need Beth to ruin Halifax, he knew that. But somehow, the desire for revenge just wasn’t as fierce without her.

He remembered how pale she’d been moments ago, how frightened, and the thought of her getting hurt made him grit his molars. “Halifax could be more dangerous than we think.”

“True.” Garrett shrugged. “Then again, I still can’t see why that guy hates you so much.”

“Because he wanted Chrystine… They were fooling around after she had the baby—remember all those emails the detective printed out for me? Hell, Garrett, I still can’t believe Beth was married to that scumbag.”

His son had died because of that bastard. Because of his selfish demands that Chrystine meet him the night of one of the worst storms on record.

The loss of that bright-eyed baby boy had almost killed Landon. No parent should have to feel it, no man, no animal, no innocent woman who’d do anything for her son.

“While I go poking into his business, I need to know Bethany’s safe. If she’s being followed, where she goes, what she eats.”

“Has it occurred to you she and Halifax might be out to ruin you together? She may still be loyal to him. In the end, Chrystine was.”

Landon pondered those words. But to compare Bethany with his first wife was unfair. Chrystine had been a social-climbing, self-centered princess, and Landon had known what she wanted from him from the start—his money, and the power his name would grant her. He hadn’t planned to give her either—until she got pregnant. And to a man like him, marriage had been the only option.

Bethany, on the other hand, just wanted her kid back.

“She’s my fiancée now, Garrett, and in a few days, my wife. Not his,” he growled then.

His chest swelled with unexpected possessiveness at the thought.

Tonight she’d stood tall, and Landon felt damned proud of the way she’d held up during the photo session.

She’d smiled, she’d acted with class and style, and the kiss she’d delivered had been so scorching, so real, she’d left him hot and bothered and eager to stake his claim on her once and for all.

In the quiet moonlight as she chatted with Kate, Beth’s face had lost its paleness and her cheeks now glowed a soft pink. She looked so pretty he worried it would…haunt him.

“You’re determined to go through with the wedding.”

“Yes,” he said, emphatic.

“Why?”

He’d asked himself a dozen times. Why did he want to marry her?

Because she made him want revenge…because he never tired of staring into her blue, blue eyes…because there was something about Bethany, plain and simple as he’d thought she was, that just got to him. And every minute was getting to him more.

“She deserves better than this, Garrett,” he said, honestly. Better than loneliness, lies and Halifax.

Across a handful of shoulders, he watched Bethany push a wheaten strand of hair behind her ear… “Christ, she’s so sexy.” He dropped his head back in exasperation, closing his eyes for a second. “She’ll be sleeping sixteen steps away from my bedroom door starting tonight—I doubt I’ll sleep an hour.”

Garrett burst out laughing, then pounded Landon’s back with one hand. “So, what are you going to do about it?” he asked.

Patience, Landon thought. Cold showers and more patience.

“You’ve never romanced a single woman in your life. They all came to you, just like Beth did.”

“Obviously, Bethany’s different.” She didn’t want him. Did she? She needed time.

She was a woman rediscovering herself, taking her first steady steps to seize the things she wanted. And Landon needed, had to make sure, that those steps lead her to
him.

He caught her watching from afar, her eyes shining with excitement. Then she gave him one of those shy, we’ve-got-them smiles.

Slowly, he returned it. While he did, his heart boomed loudly, his blood stirred, and his mind was pulled in all kinds of directions which led to the same end.

Beth, in bed, with Landon.

“You know what I think?” Garrett offered, though God knows Landon hadn’t asked for his opinion. “I think you’re falling.”

Landon grimly shook his head.

“You’re falling.”

He tipped his glass up to his lips, but when no liquid came forth, he snatched a new glass from a passing waiter. “Negative, little brother. I’m merely interested.”

He thought of the torment of romancing her, night after night, watching her defenses crack, one by one, and his insides turned to fire. Yes. He’d do it gradually, so methodically she wouldn’t even realize how fiercely he wanted her….

“You’re not seducing her already, and that’s not like you. Why isn’t she in your bed? I’m telling you. You’re falling.”

“Garrett?”

Garrett continued to nod direly. “Falling big-time, bro.”

“Shut up, moron.”

But his brother had a point here, a very valid point.

If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall for his own fake wife before he’d even bedded her.

Seven
S
core one point for the avengers.
And zero for the pig.

Beth was humming the next morning, she was so pleased about last night.

She hummed during her shower, she hummed as she brushed her hair, she hummed as she selected the shoes she would wear—a pair of classic Mary Janes—and mentally planned all the test recipes she would be posting on Kate’s new website.

Kate had mentioned wanting to expand her catering business, create a blog, menus, an online site. Last night Beth had asked Landon to borrow one of his computers and had delved into the task with the sight of being able to do something from home, when she regained custody of David.

So Beth had stayed up late last night, inspired and invigorated, because things were changing.

More than just her residence had changed.

Beth was different. She was taking charge of her life—she was getting David back.

And this time, she was going to keep him forever.

Landon, however, was not humming when she spotted him downstairs. He was on the phone, his tone crisp.

“In an hour. At the office. Right. I want him on the job starting today.”

He hung up. Beth said, “Good morning.”

She went to the coffeemaker on the buffet table, scooping grounds into a basket. Then assessed him from the corner of her eye as she waited for the coffee to start trickling.

He looked so sharp. In a black suit and tie, clean-shaven, his dark hair still damp from a recent shower and slicked back to reveal his hard-boned face. Lord, he was striking. But this morning…brooding somehow.

His hands were thrust inside his pockets, but Beth wasn’t fooled by the casualness of that pose. Upon further inspection, she realized his expression was positively morose.

Puzzled, she took a seat at a small round game table, and Landon surveyed her with slitted eyes. What was up with him today?

“Did I miss something?” she asked, frowning.

He made a noncommittal sound, as though whatever he’d been about to say couldn’t quite be said, and shook his head like the situation was dire.

His expression made Beth’s unease increase tenfold.
“What?”

“Who told Halifax of the engagement party? You?”

Her hands began to shake so hard, she set down her coffee mug before she spilled it all over herself. Something tumultuous charged the air. Landon looked…enraged. “I called David, remember? You said I could invite him.”

“And who did you speak to? Hector?”

She frowned in consternation and her stomach churned uncomfortably. “Anna, the housekeeper. She’s become a nanny to him, I think. Why? Why do you have that look on your face?”

He reached for the sofa, then flung a newspaper for her to see. “The picture today in every newspaper except the
Daily
is not ours. It’s of Halifax.”

Beth gasped as she spotted Hector’s loathed face staring back at her from the black and white picture. “No!”

The headline was even more disgusting than Hector.

Gage and Lewis engaged in illicit affair long before wedding date…

“Yeah,” he said, tightly, and slammed his fist into the table. “Hell, yeah.”

Panic bubbled up inside her. “God! You’re the owner of a newspaper, can’t you do something?”

“Beth, it wasn’t just the
Daily
covering the party, it was the
Houston Chronicle
, the
Dallas Morning News
, even the
Enquirer
, for God’s sake.”

“And that is my fault, how?” Beth pushed her chair back, the outrage that swept her so intense her voice trembled. “I’m sorry it didn’t go as we planned but that certainly wasn’t me. And you full well know we’re not—you and I are not having…having sex.”

His pointed stare and the way it slowly raked up and down her body made her nipples bead so wickedly under her buttoned shirt she wanted to hide. “No, Beth, you and I are not having sex yet.”

Her blood bubbled in her veins. What did he mean by
yet?
“Landon, it was a mistake to call David. I see that now. But he’s just a little boy. All I wanted was to see him.”

But Landon rammed a finger to his temple and made a twisting motion. “Emotions make us sloppy, Beth. You need a cool head.”

“How can I when my son is with that monster!”

Crossing the distance between them, he seized her shoulders and leveled their gazes, as if that alone could make her see the problem through his glimmering silver eyes. “Precisely why you can’t risk our position.” God, his stunning features were so much more amazing up close, she could barely decipher his words. “You can’t attempt to see David anymore, not until I say so—I can’t have you saying or doing the wrong thing around Halifax. It could compromise everything. Understand me?”

“I understand.”

He released her. “All right,” he relented, dropping his arms. “So not a word to Halifax unless our lawyer is present—agreed, Bethany?”

“Why on earth are you snapping at me, I’m on your side!”

“Just stay away from Halifax from now on.” He grabbed the newspapers scattered throughout and rammed them into his briefcase before locking it shut. “I’ve got to go.”

“You forgot this one.” She glowered down at the paper as though she could destroy it with one glare. God, it was so not what they’d planned, she wanted to hit someone. “What are we supposed to do now?” she asked him as he took the paper from her. Their fingers brushed and sent a disquieting little tingle through her arm.

The kiss. Oh God, she’d almost mated with him right there in front of everybody, and for nothing. For more lies, more and more lies from Hector.

Landon started for the foyer, all angry power and dark predatory steps. “We do what we planned to do. We’re getting married.”

The front door slammed shut.

For Beth, the next few days were busy.

They consisted of overseeing the run of the household along with the housekeeper, Martha; working on her and Kate’s project; worrying about David and cursing that loathed, cheating, bribing snake Hector; wondering what Landon was doing and when he would get home and if he would smile at her; then back to Kate and Beth’s project.

Her new friend was thrilled to have Beth help with her catering business. She’d used the word “brilliant” to qualify Beth’s Gourmet for Kids idea; fancy recipes for kids like stacked chicken fingers over a bed of fries. Just knowing Kate thought the idea could work, and that if it did, Beth would be able to do it from home, thrilled her.

She’d asked Kate if they could offer recipes on the site for free and make money offering advertising, and Kate had given her carte blanche on it.

The website was still under construction, but Beth was pouring all of her creativity into the design down to every last detail, even making sure that while a customer navigated the site, a cute little carrot appeared rather than a mouse arrow.

And Landon. Well, that man was enough to keep a woman on her toes. He drilled Beth about Hector, more determined than ever to find out the skeletons in that beast’s closet. Beth had, by some miracle of nature, been able to resist handing over the black book yet. Just to make sure that he had enough incentive to marry her.

It was hard not to yearn for his company when he went to work, though. He was a greedy Monopoly player, a ruthless chess player, and he loved to steal her out at night for a ride in one of the cars from his collection. He drove well beyond the speed limit at midnight when there was little traffic.

Her traitorous heart leapt every time he walked into a room and flashed her that smile of his and called her Bethany. Oh, he was suave, that one was.

Did Hector think he won after bribing the press after their engagement party? Ha! That would not be the case with the judge.
Not this time, pig.

She grinned at her reflection and tried that out loud. “Not this time, pig!”

Yes, it felt awesome.

It was past evening now. The eve of their wedding.

Landon was still at the
Daily
as usual, and Beth stood before a vanity and oval mirror in her simple silken wedding dress. Why she’d thought it important to try it on again, she didn’t dare dwell on.

The dress was sexier than she remembered, she thought as she critically studied herself. It hugged her body in an enticing way. The cut, though demure, somehow still managed to be modern and attractive, and the flattering cream color made her sort of…

“Stunning.”

She stiffened at the male voice, then caught sight of Landon’s piercing regard in the mirror’s reflection. The color crawled up her cheeks. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress,” she said.

Nothing moved. Time, the world, had paused when Landon arrived.

Swallowing awkwardly, Beth turned and shrugged. “But I guess we’re getting divorced, so…”

He remained motionless, a sentinel blocking the door.

His eyes glowed. So, so slowly, they wandered over her body, head to toe, and they glimmered with such heat they scorched every inch of her they covered.

The form-fitting dress with the high neckline suddenly felt as transparent as a spider’s web.

She bit her lip, unable to stifle the shudder that coursed through her. “It feels glued—” she pulled at the satin on her hips “—to my skin.” All of a sudden.

“The only thing glued to your skin are my eyes.” His voice was husky, and Beth’s thighs liquefied. Ducking her head, she unclipped her hair and used it to create a waterfall so he couldn’t see her blush.

His words…hurt. The way he looked at her. Hurt.

Maybe because she was starting to admire and respect him. And because he was amazing and sexy and kissable and staring at her with those bedroom eyes all the time, and she couldn’t stand it.

Her insides knotted, and she closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands, smothering a groan. “Can you please get out of here, Landon? You’re making me nervous.”

She kept her eyes shut and strained her ears to hear him leave. Hopefully, he’d close the door behind him, too. But for a charged moment nothing in the room seemed to move.

Her heart stopped when she heard a footstep, and a second, and a third. To her alarm, they were coming in her direction. Suddenly, Landon stood too close. His familiar scent penetrated her lungs, making them want to explode.

His arms, strong and hard, slowly slid around her waist. A fluttery, hopeful sensation danced inside her and she couldn’t quite quell it. He murmured her name over the top of her head as he drew her to his strong body.

Feeling naked and vulnerable in his arms, she dropped her hands to his shoulders—in a poor, poor effort to push him away—but didn’t dare open her eyes.

What was he doing?

Why had he stared at her as if she were naked?

God, what was he
doing?

“Look at me,” he said.

She bit her trembling lower lip and quietly refused to.

His hand slid languorously up her spine, and his fingers caressed the bare skin on her back as he huskily murmured, “Look at me, Beth…”

She felt the gentle cup of his hand on the back of her head, drawing her forward until his lips were a breath away.

“…and tell me you don’t want this.”

He covered her lips with his. She stiffened at the contact, trying to fight it, but his lips felt plush and warm, and when the wet silk of his tongue swept into her mouth, she was lost. Lost in the moment, in a kiss that was profound with yearning and rough with hunger, a kiss that was shattering and devastating and beautiful, a kiss from a man she wanted and feared and admired.

An unfamiliar desperation rose inside her, the need to experience this closeness with someone staggering in intensity, making her not only respond but do so with hot, ardent abandon. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he was suddenly more crucial than air, and her every defense against him fled. Her fingers bit into his shoulders and her mouth began to move frantically under his.

“More,” he rasped, and slanted his head, “Give me more.”

A moan rushed out of her, muffled by his mouth as their lips dissolved in a hungry, wild exploration. He tasted of coffee. Smelled like a man. His hands greedily roamed her sides, along her back, clutching and kneading even while pressing her against him.

Eager to investigate every plane, ridge, angle of his body, she let her hands venture up his back and curled her fingers around his thick nape. His arms tightened around her and he groaned into her mouth. He was so aroused! She could feel it, the thundering in his chest against her breast, the sharp shudder that rushed through him as he deepened the kiss and ground his need against her in slow, suggestive moves of his hips.

Rather than fill her with fear, the stab of his broad, unyielding hardness sent a flood of warmth across her body, and the muscles of her tummy clenched with need.

In the darkness of this bedroom and very late at night, she’d wondered if he spent sleepless nights like she had, thinking of him. If he was haunted by the kiss they’d shared before the press. And if he’d both been waiting for and wanting a new one. But it was insane!

Squirming, she pushed him away and gasped for air. He pulled back, and her chest heaved crazily, and her lips tingled with the sweet moisture of his mouth.

He cupped her face between both his hands and focused on her eyes with a heavy-lidded gaze. “I won’t apologize,” he said, a warning.

Dizzied, Beth had trouble pulling away, couldn’t seem to find her grounding. She found herself clinging to his collar with her fists. “Why? Why did you kiss me?”

There were no reporters now, no priest demanding he kiss the bride, no need to kiss her at all. She’d done the same to him that first night, but she’d been desperate. What about him?

He didn’t answer. Instead, he gently pried her cramped fingers from his shirt, set her arms at her sides with a brotherly pat, and smiled a devil’s smile from the door. “Good night, Bethany.”

BOOK: Paper Marriage Proposition
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