Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride (7 page)

She vaguely registered the birds screeching overhead, the waves crashing nearby, but it was Cassie's laughter that jarred Lauryn back to reality.

What are you doing?

She ripped her mouth free.

Adam breathed harshly. Hunger blazed in his eyes as he held her gaze, and she realized her mistake. She'd done a lot of less than honorable things in her time, things that made her cringe with shame. But she'd never been a tease.

That kiss, laden with years of pent-up passion, had promised something she had no intention of delivering.

“Sober enough to come to the phone?”

Lauryn nearly choked on her champagne when she heard Adam's question as she reentered the den after changing out of her wedding dress.

Okay, so maybe this was her second glass since Cassie and Brandon had left, and she'd had one two hours ago after dinner with her slice of wedding cake. Still, she should switch to coffee unless she wanted another wedding night like her first. One she couldn't remember. Drowning her nerves and her doubts wasn't working, anyway.

Adam's discarded tux jacket draped the back of a nearby chair. He stood facing the darkness outside the glass doors with both elbows bent beside his head and his white dress shirt stretched taut across his broad shoulders. The table lamp reflected off his wedding band drawing her attention to the cell phone pressed to his left ear.

“I'll wait while you get her, Lisette.”

Lauryn realized he wasn't talking to her.

He turned. His gaze collided with hers and then slowly drifted over her navy knit polo top, past her khaki knee-length shorts to her legs, bare feet and back up again. He'd unfastened his tie and the top three buttons of his shirt, but he looked tense instead of relaxed.

Welcome to the club.

He angled the phone away from his mouth. “I'm calling my mother to tell her about the wedding. Need to call anyone?”

Guilt sank its teeth into her like a great white shark. “No. Thanks.”

“Do you have any family? I didn't ask or give you the option of having someone at the ceremony.”

“There's only my…mother. But she's leaving in a few days for a fifteen-day South Pacific cruise. I didn't want to bother her.”

Susan and Lauryn's father had booked the cruise before he died. Rather than cancel the trip Susan had decided to go in his memory and had asked Lauryn to accompany her. But Lauryn wasn't ready yet. Not ready to forgive the lie or to give up on her quest to learn about her birthmother.

“You're not concerned she'll hear about our marriage from another source? Brandon's sending out a press release tomorrow.”

“She lives in Sacramento. I can't see the newspapers out there carrying the story. Can you?”

“Probably not.”

“I'll tell her when she gets back.” Or never. Lauryn had already disappointed Susan in a dozen different ways. Why do so again, especially now when their relationship was already strained?

His gaze raked her again. She bit her lip. Ever since that blasted wedding kiss he'd looked at her differently. Sexually. As if she'd slipped into something from Frederick's of Hollywood instead of Lands' End.

That wasn't good.

He stiffened and turned back to the window. “Hello, Mother…I'm in the Bahamas. I called to tell you I got married this afternoon…to Lauryn Lowes, Estate's accountant…. No, you've never met her….”

Lauryn cringed. Rather than eavesdrop she retreated to the kitchen to give Adam privacy. She poured out the rest of her champagne, washed the flute and then put on the tea kettle more for something to do than for the need for caffeine. Her conscience probably wouldn't let her sleep tonight, anyway.

What would Adam's family think of this hasty wedding? Of her? She wasn't one of their affluent circle. At least, she hadn't been able to prove her connection yet. Would she ever? And would being Adrianna Laurence's illegitimate child be a detriment or an asset?

A sound made her turn. Adam stood on the threshold. “We need to make arrangements to move the stuff from your apartment into storage.”

A mental door slammed shut. An escape route sealed. “My lease doesn't expire for months.”

“You can sublet. For appearances' sake you need to vacate.”

“I'll…I'll check into subletting.” She knew wasting money on rent wasn't wise, but giving up her apartment seemed so…final.

She turned back to the mahogany variety box of Island Rose Tea, a Bahamian specialty, and dithered over her selection. Maybe the Cat Island Chamomile would calm her.

Fat chance.

Ever conscious of Adam watching and waiting only a few yards away, she found a mug in the cabinet and sugar on the counter and then pulled the creamer from the refrigerator.

When she could stall no longer she faced him. He'd propped a shoulder against the doorjamb. His hair looked a little more disheveled than usual, making her fingers itch to smooth it.

Ridiculous. No touching except when required by an audience.

“What did you tell your mother?” she asked. “About us, I mean. When Cassie asked today I didn't know what to say. We need to be to be on the same page.”

“Agreed.” His unwavering gaze made her fidgety. “What did you tell Cassie?”

She'd been caught off guard because she and Adam hadn't concocted a cover story. Reluctantly, Lauryn had admitted she'd developed a crush on Adam after meeting him at the initial interview. But she wasn't telling
him
that. “That we met at work and tried to keep our involvement quiet because fraternization is against Estate policy.”

“That's good. I'll use that.”

“But what did you tell your mother?”

“Just what you overheard. That I married Estate's accountant today. Mother wasn't sober enough to process more. You'll soon discover she has a drinking problem. If you want to have a coherent conversation with her then you have to do it before noon.”

She heard suppressed anger—or was it frustration?—and maybe a hint of concern in his voice. “What about your brothers and sisters? Besides Cassie, you have two of each, right?”

“Right. My brothers, Parker and Stephen, are older, my sisters, Brooke and Brittany, the twins, are younger. I'll e-mail them.”

“I don't have any siblings, but I can't imagine delivering such big news via an impersonal e-mail. Don't you want to call them?”

“We're not that close.”

Sympathy welled within her—sympathy she couldn't afford to feel for him if she wanted to keep her distance. At least he had a family. Maybe it wasn't a perfect one, but he had them, and if he wasn't close to them that was his fault. “But—”

The tea kettle shrieked, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

Adam pushed off the jamb, turned off the stove and removed the kettle from the burner. “Lauryn, it would seem odd if I preferred to spend my wedding night talking on the phone with my family instead of alone with my bride.”

The insinuation of what most newly married couples would be doing on their first night as husband and wife wound through her, tensing her muscles, shortening her breath, quickening her pulse.

She was attracted to Adam. Despite his alleged womanizing ways. Despite the fact that he was using her. Despite the temporary nature of this relationship. She'd believed it would be easy to ignore the chemistry for two years.

Wrong.

Forget the tea. She needed distance and solitude not a hot drink. And she needed to get her head together and her hormones under control. “Is it safe to walk on the beach here at night?”

“Probably not alone.”

“Oh.” Another escape route sealed and another bout of claustrophobia encroached. “Never mind then.”

“Grab a jacket.”

“But—”

“Lauryn. Grab a jacket. We'll walk.” The words were an order, but also a warning. One she didn't dare ignore.

Not if she wanted to get through this night without doing something she'd regret.

Like consummating her marriage of convenience.

A
dam couldn't sleep.

No surprise.

He braced his forearms on the porch railing spanning the rear of the cottage and stared blindly into the night. The steady crash of the waves failed to soothe him, and the brisk sea breeze did nothing to cool his overheated skin. The woman sleeping on the other side of the closed glass doors behind him took a lot of the credit—or blame—for that.

Lauryn's kiss after the “I dos” had zapped him like an electric eel and then she'd turned off that sexual current like a circuit breaker.

How did she do it? Because he sure as hell hadn't been able to. His body still hummed.

Why now? Why her? Why did his hibernating libido have to jolt awake for a woman who wanted nothing to do with him?

It wasn't until after she had retired to her bedroom for the night that he'd realized he hadn't learned anything new about her during the long walk on the beach or the Scrabble game afterward except that she had a bigger vocabulary than he did and a competitive streak to rival his.

His wife played her cards close to her chest.

His
wife.

Married.
Him.

His mouth dried. He reached for his Kalik beer. The sparkle of moonlight on his wedding ring stopped him short of the bottle. He flexed his fingers, noting he didn't feel as trapped or freaked out as he'd expected.

Did he have it in him to be faithful to one woman even temporarily? God knows he'd never found a woman he wanted exclusively or one who'd seemed capable of fidelity to him. The women who came and went at Estate changed men as often as they changed clothes.

Two years with only Lauryn. One hundred four weeks. Seven hundred thirty days. And nights.

And no guarantee he'd get between her sheets.

Was infidelity encoded in DNA? If he ever fell in love, would he betray the woman the way his father had his mother? Nah, because he wasn't falling. He'd seen too many relationships turn acrimonious to ever want to go there. And knowing his father's secret and not being able to tell had been its own kind of hell.

He lifted the bottle and sipped. The Bahamas brew wasn't bad. Maybe he should check into ordering it for the club.

He couldn't check into the customs regulations tonight, but there was one decision he could make. Should he stay on the island until Monday as planned and risk driving himself nuts with need for his bride or return home early to the safety and separation a ten-thousand-square-foot house would allow?

An early return meant a command performance at the family's Sunday dinner—an event he'd prefer to postpone as long as possible. The Garrisons weren't a warm, fuzzy bunch. Scaring Lauryn off so soon in the game wouldn't be good.

They needed this honeymoon for a number of reasons.

One: appearances. A real newlywed couple would want solitude.

Two: he could hardly show up at dinner knowing nothing about the woman he'd married. If he did this charade would sink faster than lead.

Three: Lauryn jumped each time he touched her and, other than that wedding shocker, she still stiffened when he kissed her. That stung. Women didn't flinch from him. They melted, begged and wrapped themselves around him like a spider web.

But not Lauryn Lowes. Garrison. Lauryn
Garrison.

Why not? What flipped her switches? And why didn't she desire him? Women wanted him. His bride shouldn't be an exception.

Changing her mind on the sex issue wasn't just about getting laid anymore. It was a matter of keeping the pretense. And pride. Staying in the Bahamas would give him time to diagnose and rectify the problem. He could hardly seduce her with work and family interrupting.

He needed a strategy.

The door opened behind him. Adam turned and almost choked on his beer. Lauryn stood framed in the doorway, a bedside lamp outlining her boxers-and-baggy-T-shirt-clad shape. A thin, worn T-shirt clearly outlined her full breasts and erect nipples in the pale moonlight.

He couldn't stifle a groan.

She startled and jerked to a halt. Her eyes found him in the shadows and widened. “Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know you were out here.”

“Can't sleep?”

“Um, no. You?”

“I'm used to being up nights.”

“Are you hungry? I could fix something.”

“Thanks, but you don't have to cook for me. I didn't marry you to get a maid or a chef.”

“The estate is fully staffed?”

“Yes. And they've been informed that we're moving in.”

“Can you trust them not to leak our separate sleeping arrangements?”

The muscles in the back of his neck knotted. Another reason to talk Lauryn into bed. “Good question. Like you, they signed confidentiality agreements, and they've done well with the visiting celebrities thus far. But there are no guarantees.”

Her teeth gleamed in the moonlight as she bit her lip, reminding him of her taste and making him hunger for another sample. “Does the house have any suites with adjoining rooms?”

It took a second to pull his brain out of his pants. “The master suite has an attached sitting room.”

“There's our solution. I'll tell them I sleep alone because you snore.”

He snapped upright. “I don't snore.”

She smiled, the first genuine smile she'd offered him since this
thing
began, and her eyes sparkled with mischief. The combo knocked the wind out of him and drained the blood from his brain. “I didn't say you did. I said we'd
tell
them you did.”

“Why don't we tell them
you
snore?”

She shook her head. “Be a gentleman, Adam.”

He'd never felt less like a gentleman in his life. He wanted to back her into that room, toss her on the bed and spend the rest of the night making her moan, beg and scream his name.

Jeezus, where did that come from?

She took a quick step backward.

Surely his wife wasn't a mind reader? Or had his lust shown on his face? “Lauryn, you don't have to leave. The deck is sturdy enough to hold both of us. We'll think of something to tell the staff—but not that I snore.”

A man had his pride.

Her cautious gaze roamed over him and his recently awakened libido reacted as if her hands had done the exploring—a fact his swim trunks wouldn't be able to hide much longer. He shifted his stance. “Want a beer?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. Were you, um, going for a swim?”

“Thought about it. But I don't know the area and forgot to ask Cassie if it was safe to swim off shore.”

“Shark bait wouldn't fill the council seat.” The teasing lilt of her voice zapped him with another jolt of arousal. He hadn't known she had a sense of humor.

“No, but it'd make you a rich widow.”

Her amusement vanished. “Don't. Don't joke about that.”

He shrugged off the concern in her voice. “So why can't you sleep?”

Please say it's because you're horny.

She eased closer to the railing, but kept a couple of yards between them. His tongue nearly fell out of his mouth at the sight of her long legs beneath those short shorts. How had he missed those legs? Had his head been stuck in a hole these past seven months?

“I kept thinking about your family. Are you comfortable deceiving them?”

Not what he wanted to hear. But maybe she was working her way up to the right answer. A man could hope. “It's necessary.”

She wanted more, but he wasn't going to tell her about his quest for a larger role in Garrison, Inc. Telling her his family didn't trust him with responsibility wouldn't win her over.

He finished his beer and faced her. “We have a problem.”

One golden eyebrow lifted, and so did the lush fullness of her breasts when she reached up to capture her wind-tossed hair in her hands.

“You flinch every time I touch you. My family, particularly my sisters, will pick up on that immediately.”

She snatched an audible breath. “I'll work on it.”

“We could practice.”

A wary, caged light entered her eyes. “Practice?”

“You have a better idea?”

Her low chuckle danced over his skin like dusting fingertips. “You're beginning to sound like a corny character in a bad novel.”

“Corny?
Corny?
Me?” No one had ever accused him of that. Loner, risk-taker, ambitious, emotionally unavailable? Sure. His brothers, five and six years older than him, had always dumped Adam in the same category as their younger sisters or ignored him completely. But nobody had ever called him corny.

He didn't like it. Especially not from Lauryn.

“Adam, this isn't junior high or high school where you make out just to see how far you can go before getting caught.”

“You made out in junior high?”

She gave him a get-real stare.

Right. She wasn't the type. She was too…what was the word he needed? Prim? Proper? Straightlaced? And that was why she was the perfect bride for him. The council and his family had to believe he'd mended his partying ways.

“I don't do casual sex.”

He moved closer, close enough to feel her body heat and catch her scent. “What's casual about sleeping with your husband?”

Her throat moved as she swallowed and awareness tightened her face. Sexual tension crackled in the air around them. “L-let me rephrase that. I don't do meaningless sex. And you agreed. To the no-sex clause.”

“Then what do you suggest?” He lifted a hand to smooth her hair, but she flinched out of reach.

“Can't we just be…friends?”

“Friends.” The last thing any guy wants to hear from a woman.

He'd never survive four days in paradise with his reluctant bride without losing his mind. And the thought of two years of celibacy made his package shrivel.

He had to come up with a plan. A plan to seduce his wife.

Lauryn wasn't ready for this. Not yet.

Who was she kidding? She'd
never
be ready to try and convince the people who knew Adam best that she was head over heels in love with him. But she'd try. That was their deal.

She clung tightly to Adam's hand as they approached the Garrisons' Bal Harbor estate on Sunday night and hoped she didn't blow it.

She would have preferred staying in the Bahamas and tiptoeing around the growing sexual tension between her and Adam to meeting his family
en masse,
but this morning he'd suddenly insisted on coming home early to organize the move and have Sunday dinner with his family. They'd spent most of the day apart in their respective homes packing boxes for the movers to pick up tomorrow. But that brief reprieve was over and now the spotlight was on her and she had a touch of stage fright.

Knowing she'd be sleeping in Adam's condo tonight didn't help her anxiety level, but the house wasn't ready. Specifically, the sofa bed for the sitting room wouldn't be delivered until tomorrow morning. Since she'd refused to let Adam share her bed and he'd refused to sleep in another room for one night, the condo had been their only option.

Lauryn was so nervous she was almost nauseous. She searched her mind for a distraction. “Mrs. Suarez said something about your brothers getting married recently?”

Adam didn't slow his pace as he crossed the brick driveway. “Parker married Anna, his executive assistant, in August. Stephen married Megan in September, and they have a three-year-old daughter who probably won't be here tonight. My sister Brittany is engaged to Emilio Jefferies, one of Garrison, Inc.'s rivals. If he's here, you can expect Parker to be on his worst behavior. Brooke is still single.”

“How will I tell the twins apart?”

“Brooke is a people-pleaser. Count on Mother to be yanking her chain. Brittany is more laid-back.”

“And your brothers?”

“Parker's the oldest and he's a control freak. Stephen's okay.”

Control freak? Was there tension between Adam and his brother? “Will Cassie and Brandon be here?”

“Not likely.”

“That's too bad.” Lauryn could have used a friendly face.

“Trust me, it's better to keep Mother and Cassie apart.”

Cassie would be a reminder of Mr. Garrison's infidelity. That wouldn't be easy for any woman to take. “I guess so. I wasn't thinking.”

The setting sun cast a mellow light over the creamy stucco walls and terracotta tile roof of an imposing Spanish-style house. If Lauryn weren't meeting her in-laws she'd probably find the place attractive in a grandiose we-have-loads-of-money way.