3 Brides for 3 Bad Boys (3 page)

She sucked in air, but didn't attempt to move away again, and it took only a few seconds for him to regret his impulse to hold her. She felt way too good next to his body. His sex stood to attention and saluted the soft floral scent of her skin as it teased his senses. He gritted his teeth.

Her breath was coming in short pants, and her heartbeat was visible in a tantalizing pulse on her neck.

He wanted to kiss that pulse, wanted to taste the smooth, creamy skin. He let his gaze slide to the perfect small curves of her breasts encased in the shimmering moss-colored satin of her bodice. And damn if he didn't regret the impulse when the small shoals created by hard nipples caught and held his attention with the power of a mind magnet.

She was excited.

So was he. Aching with it. Hot and hard flesh strained against his pants, and he wanted to take her body and make it his against the wall of the small enclosure.

Thankfully the elevator doors opened at that moment. He dragged her into his apartment and peeled away from her immediately, needing to breathe air not scented by her feminine fragrance.

It didn't help.

He turned on her and glared. "Tell me you didn't mean that about sharing my bed."

She swallowed and shook her head.

"Good. Now, let's discuss this like mature adults."

Her hands fisted at her sides, and she took a deep breath. "I did mean it."

His temper exploded. "Damn it, Phoebe—"

"Don't swear at me, Rand Alexander," she interrupted before he could warm to his tirade. "If you will remember, you were the one who told my great-aunt and your brother you intended to take me to bed."

"I'm not some da—" He cut himself off and was angry with himself for doing so.

"I am not a stud for hire.
If you want to pay a man to warm your bed, I suggest you try an escort service."

She visibly recoiled from his words, but the stubborn little chin came up again.

"May I remind you that the terms of this deal were your idea? You said you would give me a week in your bed if I gave you the deed to Luna Island."

"I was pissed. I didn't mean it."

"Were you?" She looked down her nose at him, which was no mean feat considering how much smaller she was. "It was always my understanding that a businessman's word was his bond."

"This is not a business deal!"

She jumped at his bellow, and he sighed. She was nuts, but he didn't want to scare her. He liked Phoebe. It wasn't her fault he wanted her in a way that he couldn't deal with.

"Look, Phoebe, this is crazy. I'll pay you fair, market value for the island and a percentage of the minerals extracted." Repeating the offer didn't do him a bit of good.

She shook her head vehemently. "We've already agreed on terms."

"Are you so desperate to lose your virginity, you're willing to blackmail a man into taking you to bed?" It was a stab in the dark, but her wild blush confirmed his guess.

She glared at him. "I repeat: the terms of the deal were your idea."

"Honey, this is not the way you want to lose your cherry."

Phoebe felt like exploding. "What would you know about it? You've had more women than restaurant lunches in the last year. I'm twenty-five years old. I've been engaged, but I've never gone to bed with anyone, and that is going to change."

"Not with me, it won't."

She stared at him, all of her anger fading fast as reality finally intruded on the madness that had held her in its grip since he had made the unbelievable offer in the first place.

What was she doing?

She couldn't blackmail or bribe Rand into making love to her. Not even for the price of an island he wanted.

A man had to desire a woman to sleep with her, and Rand did not want Phoebe.

Contrary to his earlier assurances, he didn't even really see her as a woman.

Certainly he realized she was a female of his species, but that was clinical. He had no desire for her femininity.

Why should he?

She wasn't the type of woman to inspire uncontrollable passion, or even mild desire, apparently. Carter hadn't wanted her either.

They'd been engaged, but he had never attempted to cross the line she'd set during their courtship.

Without saying another word, she spun on her heel and headed for the elevator. She pressed the button and said something truly shocking under her breath when she realized it was in use and she would have to wait for it.

"Where are you going?"

He was right behind her, the animal magnetism of his body drawing her in cruel mockery.

"Back to the reception." She couldn't believe she'd left in the first place. As an organizer, she was responsible for making sure everything ran smoothly. And Rand was supposed to make a speech later.

"Like hell."

She ignored his temper and willed the elevator doors to open.

"You are not going to bed with my brother."

She wondered if she was going to make it into the elevator before the tears came. They were burning her eyes and making her throat ache from holding them in. Why in the world had she fallen in love with a man incapable of feeling that emotion? And what cruel trick of providence had decided her body would crave him like an addict craved his next fix?

His big hand landed on her bare skin, burning her with sexual energy he was oblivious to, and she silently cursed the off-the-shoulder style of her gown. It was all she could do not to turn around and beg him to put her body out of its misery, to have sex with her even if he couldn't love her. The pride her aunt had accused her of nursing earlier was in a puddle of need around her feet.

"I'm not letting you leave while you're talking crazy like this, honey."

The bell dinged, and the doors to the elevator started to slide open. Rand reached around her and pressed a button that closed them again.

"Why did you do that?" she asked in a voice strained by the pain she was holding inside.

She should be used to losing, but it still hurt. She'd lost her parents, first to wanderlust and then to death. Then her uncle had died, leaving her Luna Island and a heart that missed the kind old man. Carter had done his flit a year later.

She'd never even had Rand to begin with.

Her current pain was all out of proportion.

"We're not done talking."

She'd already humiliated herself in front of him, exposing her desperation and her desire. She could not stand adding to that humiliation by losing control of her emotions, and she was terrified that was exactly what would happen if she didn't get out of there right now.

"Yes, we are." She stabbed at the down button. The doors opened.

Rand pressed the close button.

"Open it." Her voice was shrill, even to her own ears, but she was desperate to get out of there.

"No."

She spun to face him, dislodging his hand from her shoulder. "You have no right to keep me here."

"I'm not going to let you leave until you've calmed down."

"You mean until you're sure I won't hand my island over to Carter?" she taunted, relieved that anger had superceded the urge to cry.

"He wants the island, not you. Don't you see that?"

Rand sounded furious, and she could imagine why. He was convinced she was going to sign the mineral rights over to his half brother.

"That makes two of you, then, doesn't it?"

Frustration burned in his silver-gray eyes. "It's not the same thing, damn it."

They both wanted the island. Neither man wanted her personally. The only difference was that with Carter, she didn't care. Rand's rejection was shredding a heart already tenderized by watching him flirt with another woman.

For the sake of what was left of her pride, she had to get away from him. She spun around again and stabbed the elevator button. It took two tries because once again, tears were blurring her vision, but she got it. The doors slid open just as she went airborne.

Two strong arms supported her against the rock-solid wall of his chest. "You're not leaving."

Trying to push herself out of his arms, she glared up at him through the wetness in her eyes. "Put me down, Rand."

His hold tightened, and he shook his head. "You're not acting rational."

"So you're going to hold me against my will until I do, or until I agree to sell you the island?" The sarcasm would have no doubt been more effective if it hadn't been delivered with a breaking voice.

Something shifted across Rand's features. "Don't cry, baby. I know seeing Carter again has got you all upset and you're going a little crazy here, but you'll feel better soon."

He thought seeing Carter again was the reason for her
going crazy
as he called it? She considered it as a face-saving excuse, but she'd rather be honest and embarrassed than go to bed that night knowing she was a liar and a coward.

Besides, was it really an improvement to be seen as a woman pining after a man who had dumped her years ago?

"Carter doesn't have anything to do with this."

Rand's expression said he didn't believe her. Maybe she
was
going crazy, but how could the guy be
that
dense?

She needed to get herself under control. Now. Or he wasn't going to let her go.

And she
had
to get away from him.

Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on blinking back her tears. She reached inside his tux for the crisp, clean handkerchief she knew he always had on the inside pocket of any suit jacket. He went absolutely still as she fumbled for the hidden pocket in the silk lining. She pulled the handkerchief out and started mopping up her face. Tempted to hide behind it, she nevertheless crushed it into a soggy ball in her hand. She hated crying in front of other people.

"You can put me down now."

"Can I?" His voice sounded odd.

Probably because he was still worried about her going off the sexual deep end with Carter.

"Yes. I'm not going to give in to any further bouts of terminal stupidity tonight."

She couldn't quite meet his eyes, but she patted his chest to reassure him. If the pat was more a caress, he had only himself to blame, holding her so close. "I promise."

"I wish you hadn't done that."

Now he sounded really peculiar. She forced herself to make eye contact. His glittered strangely.

"Done what? You mean used your handkerchief? Don't you have another one?"

Of course he did. They were in his apartment after all. What was his problem?

"You touched me."

"You picked me up. Touching you is sort of unavoidable."

"So is this."

"Wha—" But his lips cut off the rest of her question.

Hot, male lips that caught her mouth open midword. It was the sexiest kiss she'd ever experienced, and she went under like a scoop of vanilla ice cream in a hot fudge sundae. The rich decadence of his kiss drowned her even though his tongue did not breach her interior. His lips moved with surety bespeaking his sexual expertise, but it didn't feel like unemotional technique. It felt personal and wonderful, and everything in between.

She was just coming to accept this was happening to her when he pulled back and set his forehead against hers. "I really should not have done that."

The kiss had been far too short and far too potent. She couldn't say a word, but he was wrong. So wrong. There was no
should not have
about that kiss.

He gently set her on her feet, but she swayed, feeling more tipsy than she'd ever gotten from champagne. He swore and steadied her with his hands on her upper arms.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds, but finally she forced out the question that was burning in her mind. "Why did you do that?"

She just might die if he said it had been a pity kiss.

His head tilted forward, hiding his expression from her, and he shook it as if to clear his mind, not answering her.

Bewildered by what had just happened and befuddled by still pulsing desire, she stared at the top of his glossy black hair. "But you don't want me."

His head snapped up, and she got a glimpse of a frighteningly savage expression before he reached out and jerked her body against his. "I want you,"

he gritted out between clenched teeth, "too damn much."

Then he gave her blatant evidence of that desire, pressing himself against her belly.

He meant it.

He really did want her.

She could barely take it in. She'd given Rand Alexander a hard-on. His emotions weren't involved, not like hers. If they had been, he wouldn't be fighting the idea of going to bed with her so hard. She didn't care.

She'd wanted him for so long, it was an ache inside her she thought would never be assuaged. Wasn't a taste of heaven better than a lifetime without knowing the kind of passion she was sure he could give her?

Shocking her with his understanding and silent compassion, he'd stepped in when Carter had taken off. Rand's friendship had saved her pride. He'd escorted her to social functions, invited her to co-chair committees with him and kept her mind focused on things besides her unexpected single status.

Eventually, her mind and her emotions had become focused on him. He had never realized it, and she had done nothing to change that. Until tonight.

He shifted, and hard flesh moved against her, startling her with its growing proportions.

She shuddered, her heart pounding so loud it was a drumbeat in her head. "You do want me."

The words sounded incredible to her, the concept even more so.

She let her hands settle against his chest, one right over his heart. "Then take me.
Please."