Burned Deep (2 page)

Despite being good-natured, Kyle exuded enough self-confidence to convince me he had a way with the ladies—and wasn't the least bit hesitant to use that particular gift to his full advantage.

So my nerves jumped to attention when he gave me a suggestive look.

“I'd be
your
love slave,” he said in a low tone. “You can tie me to the bedposts, if you want.”

“That's, um … not really my thing.”

“You're not married, are you, Ari? Or otherwise spoken for? 'Cause there's a whole night of dancing ahead of us—”

“Dude.” Sean fake-punched his best man in the arm. “She's my wedding planner. Don't hit on her. At. My.
Wedding.
”

Kyle said, “Weddings are the perfect place to meet new women, amigo. And this one's beautiful, smart, possibly single. So why wouldn't I find out if there's something to pursue here?”

I suddenly felt another set of eyes on me. From behind. It was an eerie yet unmistakable feeling.

As Sean and Kyle bantered like I wasn't standing next to them in earshot, I glanced over my shoulder. And lost my breath.

The argument faded into oblivion as my pulse echoed through me, drowning out all other sounds, thoughts, everything.

In the corner up front sat two men, paperwork sprawled across their table. One salt-and-pepper-haired, distinguished looking, older. The other dark-haired and dressed all in black—jeans, boots, and a button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal impressive forearms. Late twenties, maybe thirty. He had a very mysterious air about him, and he was staring at me.

Right at me.

His onyx hair was sexily tousled, as though he'd just rolled out of bed with a woman who'd enjoyed mussing the thick, silky-looking strands. His piercing green eyes held a hint of intrigue and a hell of a lot of
don't mess with me.
Contradictory signals that sparked my interest.

His face was a chiseled masterpiece. He had strong features with a stone-set jaw, balanced brows, not too thick, not too thin, and a nose that might have been punched a time or two, given the slight bump close to the eyes, but which still managed to look specially crafted to keep harmony with all the sculpted angles. A mouth that easily drew my attention, my gaze lingering on it until I caught myself.

All in all, he was devilishly handsome. Darkly beautiful.

It struck me that I would never consider a man beautiful, thinking it would undermine his masculinity. Not so with this one. He was beautiful and virile. Downright heart-stopping.

I felt a peculiar stirring deep within me. An innate reaction to his edgy perfection.

It seemed as though the blood moved a bit slower through my veins. Thicker, warmer. Molten.

My gaze lifted, our eyes locked, and I was riveted. I still couldn't breathe.

Something flickered in those hypnotic emerald pools of his. Something curious, like a warning to be heeded. Not menacing, but … definitely intimidating.

Unnerved and surprisingly, intensely aroused, I tore my gaze from the sexy stranger just as Grace brought my shot.

“So, bottoms up,” I said as I reached for the tequila, my voice a bit shaky from the unexpected encounter. I finally pulled in a long breath, then gave a quick toast, brevity being the order of the moment. “May the new Aldridge family be blessed with a lifetime of health and happiness.” We all touched rims and threw back the booze. Even the burn of alcohol couldn't compete with the simmering inside me created by that heated gaze. But I had business to focus on and resisted the temptation to look over my shoulder again. “Okay, guys. Showtime.”

“Damn, you love to crack the whip,” Kyle said. “Maybe you ought to rethink your stance on bondage
.
” He raised a hand as though to rest it at the small of my back and escort me out. I instinctively leapt a bit too far out of his reach—and stumbled into a trio of men just coming through the door.

One of them caught me around the waist and held on tight. “Hey, hey there, pretty lady.”

Behind us, I heard the scrape on the stone floor as a chair shoved back. A powerful sense of awareness jolted me. I knew
exactly
who was about to intervene if anyone got too touchy-feely.

But why?

Mumbling an apology, I wrenched free from the semi-embrace of a twenty something with spiky blond hair and an intricately designed diamondback snake tattoo slithering up his neck. A lascivious glint lit his brown eyes, pricking my nerves. He spared a glimpse at Kyle and the others, then asked me, “Looking for real men to party with, sweetheart?”

The entire atmosphere turned tense and everything that followed happened quickly.

Kyle came immediately to my defense, saying in a suddenly sharp tone, “Back off, pal.” His chin lifted, his chest puffed out.

Snake-tat guy grabbed me again, more forcefully than I thought he'd intended. I winced as he tugged me to him. “Doesn't look like she was interested in leaving with you,
pal.
”

Three groomsmen instantly threw off their jackets, fueled by tequila.

“No fighting!” I cried out, panic shooting through me. I'd never get another planning gig in this town if I delivered a bloodied bridal party to the event lawn—the Delfinos would make sure of it.

The darkly handsome stranger swooped in, pushing Kyle to the side with a solid palm to the pecs—clearly agitating Kyle further, because his fists balled at his sides. A breath later, the stranger had the spiky-haired blond by the forearm.

“Hands off,” he all but growled.

Alarm flashed in the blond's eyes at the sudden and vehement reaction from the intruder—and likely his commanding presence. Snake-tat guy released me instantly. Even his friends backed off.

The stranger twisted the blond's arm and jerked it behind his back before slamming his shoulder to the table, as if freeing me wasn't justice enough.

“Jesus, Bax,” the salt-and-pepper-haired companion grumbled, a hint of admiration mixing with his shock as he scrambled to collect the papers getting crinkled.

In a deep, rough voice, the man called Bax said, “Doesn't look like she's interested in leaving with
you,
either.”

Air rushed from my lungs. I stood so close to him, I felt his heat, inhaled his expensive-smelling cologne, absorbed his raw intensity. He glanced my way, his green eyes entrancing, though something foreboding edged the rims of those brilliant irises.

A scowl darkened his visage even more, turning him dangerous in a recklessly thrilling way. I wasn't the reckless sort, yet a scintillating sensation flared within me.

His gaze remained connected with mine as he spoke to the spiky-haired guy. “I think you owe the lady an apology.”

“I didn't know she came with a bodyguard,” the blond ground out. Craning his neck to look around the broad-shouldered man caging him, he acridly added, “Sorry, sweetheart.” The stranger released him and stepped away. The blond skulked off with his friends, muttering “Asshole” under his breath.

“Come on, Ari,” Sean said as he gently took my hand—the first wholly innocent gesture in this incident.

Yet I recoiled again, breaking the trancelike gaze with emerald eyes I would never forget, and hissed out, “Everybody stop touching me.” My heart thundered as anxiety mounted.

I sidestepped the group. A concerned Grace asked, “Are you okay? I called Security.”

“We're good—I'm good,” I told her. “Sorry for the trouble. That was all my fault.”

“No, it wasn't. I called Security on Tattoo Guy,” she said. “He shouldn't have grabbed you. Looked like it hurt.”

“It's fine,” I lied. My arm smarted.

She whispered, “Who's Dark and Dangerous?”

Clearly, she meant the gorgeous green-eyed stranger. “I don't know.”

“Interesting,” she murmured. “He's been watching you since you made your grand entrance. He is smokin' hot. The best man is damn good-looking, too. Lucky you, all the way around.”

Heat burst on my cheeks. “Not interested,” I said, trying to compose myself as the groomsmen paid up and I herded them toward the door.

My pulse still jumped. Not just from the sexy stranger—and the way he'd put an immediate stop to what could have been a disastrous altercation. Competing with the excitement he elicited was a bit of apprehension, because I didn't like anyone moving in too close. These guys bumped against my boundaries. Only
one
of them hadn't touched me, or tried to.

“Relax, Ari,” a groomsman scoffed as he shrugged into his jacket, not knowing the true source of my consternation. “Weddings never start on time.”

“Mine do.” Feeling that smoldering gaze again, I turned around. The stranger stood facing me—an impressive six-foot-two or-three inches tall. Muscular. Strong. Powerful. Formidable.

His eyes narrowed. My stomach fluttered. I couldn't explain why.

“Thanks,” I said tentatively.

His emerald gaze flicked to Kyle before the now-disgruntled best man disappeared out the door, then returned to me. “Try to be a little more careful.”

“Right.” I bristled slightly at the admonishment but brushed it off. I needed to leave, yet my feet remained rooted where they were. His mesmerizing gaze held me captive. I couldn't breathe again. It took several seconds to return to myself and head to the door.

“Ari.”

His tone was low this time. Rich. Sensual. The warm timbre worked its way through my body and slid slowly, tantalizingly down my spine. Chasing away the apprehension. Making me shiver and inciting a tickle along my clit that had my inner walls clenching as my thighs pressed together.

I glanced back. “Yes?” My voice was suddenly much too soft and breathy. I was deeply aroused by the way he so intimately said my name—the fact that he'd paid close enough attention to pick up on it.

His jaw clenched briefly. Then he asked, “Are you all right?”

I stared at him for several suspended seconds. Why did it matter to him?

Given his size and agility, he probably felt duty bound to rescue girls like me, who never went looking for trouble but somehow inadvertently found it from time to time.

“Sure,” I finally said, then dragged my gaze away and forced myself to walk out.

I left the bar and directed the men to their places by Tamera, an electric current moving under my skin even though I'd broken the intense eye contact and was no longer in the riveting presence of the devilish stranger.

The changing of color overhead began. The cumulous clouds had miraculously thinned into wispier ones and they captured the light as the sun burned through them, dispersing it in all directions so that fiery blood-orange, gold, and vermillion painted the sky and cast dazzling hues over the sparkling water.

From a parquet platform set off to the side, a pianist and harpist took their cue and eased into a gorgeously haunting version of Aaliyah's “One in a Million.” The last of the guests settled in and I signaled the bridesmaids. The adorable six-year-olds serving as ring bearer and flower girl followed.

I slipped off to get the bride, my gaze flitting toward the restaurant, my interest thoroughly piqued.

Bax.
What kind of a name was that? First? Last? Short for Baxley or Baxter? I shook my head. No, he definitely did not seem like a Baxter.

Who was he and what had made him come so swiftly to my defense? Even when it had just been Kyle flirting with me, Bax had seemed disturbed by it.

Curiosity clawed at me. I was dying to figure out what the hell had happened in less than fifteen minutes that had compelled him to save me from the claim two men had instantly staked.

A rumble of thunder in the distance caught my attention, pulling me from my errant thoughts. I entered the cottage and prepped Meghan for her breath-stealing appearance. As her father escorted her down the aisle, my eyes flashed from the sky to the bridal party to the guests and back. I silently prayed the weather would hold out. I wanted everything to be perfect, but I couldn't control the climate—nor could I keep my mind from wandering. I swore I felt his gaze again. But that was impossible. He wasn't one of the guests.

Clearly, I
wanted
to feel his gaze.

Heat blazed through me at the mere thought of him, making me uncomfortable, what with the addition of the thick humidity. I wiped a bead of perspiration from my brow. I was more than intrigued, though I doubted that was wise. He wasn't the kind of man one trifled with, and he was quite obviously out of my league.
Way
too potent, likely the reason for all of that forewarning in his eyes.

Unfortunately, he lingered in my thoughts.

The ceremony turned out flawless—to the casual observer. No wedding ever went off without a hitch, but it was how you smoothed the wrinkles with no one noticing there was a hiccup that made an event a true success.

During the vows, I checked in with the staff responsible for the cocktail reception and the band that would entertain the guests while the bridal party and parents posed for pictures. They were all on standby to move everything indoors at a moment's notice.

Then I headed into the lodge to confirm the dinner preparations were all seen to. I took in the formal setting with a critical eye, ensuring the floral arrangements and intricate decorations were in their appropriate place, all of which created a no-expense-spared ambience—yet another reason I meticulously surveyed the surroundings.

Inspecting the rounds of ten filling the enormous ballroom, and the extended head table at the far end where floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the strategically lit grounds and red-rock formations, I spied a few fixables.

Lifting a tulip champagne flute, I said to the Banquet Manager following me around, “This glass has spots.” I handed it over, noting the tremble in my fingers. That was odd. I was usually a very steady person when in my element. But everything about the potentially dangerous encounter in the bar had left me a bit off-kilter.