Compromising Kessen (7 page)

She rolled her eyes. “Funny. According to you, I don’t have a heart.” Her head tilted to the side, adding to the sarcasm, but also making her neck look like the most graceful thing Christian had seen in years. Her skin was just the right amount of tan against the moon. He found himself holding his hand back so he wouldn’t reach out to touch her skin.

He turned around again and swallowed, regaining his lost composure. “My opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Finally something we agree on,” she interjected.

He sighed.

She laughed.

And then he touched her.

He shouldn’t have; he knew it was a bad idea, but he had forgotten his place, and she had stepped directly in front of him. Did she think he was made of steel? He was a red-blooded male after all, and what normal man wouldn’t take this opportunity?

****

He was touching her. Why was he touching her? Worse, why did she like it? His hands no longer had gloves on them as they reached around her neck and stilled. It was as if he were trying to see how big her neck was, which was not romantic at all, except for the fact his eyes were dark as the night sky when he looked into hers. The heat from his hands sent waves of pleasure all the way down to her toes.

She inwardly cursed, for her mind and body had betrayed her. She tried to pull away, but found her legs wouldn’t respond to the message her brain was relaying to them. Instead, she waited for him to say something, but he seemed frozen in place, as if their very touch froze a moment in time for only the two of them to enjoy.

She jumped when she heard a rustling in the bushes. A small white bunny hopped a few feet away, breaking the spell and making her realize how stupid she had been. Hook, line, and sinker, she fell for his trick. His touch nearly undid her. Her head whipped back to his, and before she had time to think about it, her hand met his cheek with passionate intensity.

“What’s wrong with you? You can’t just go about trying to seduce people in gardens! It’s not—done,” she stammered.

He opened his mouth to respond, but she interrupted again.

“And don’t think just because you have this silly little archaic title I would even consider looking twice at you. I don’t care who you are or what you do. I will not be manipulated or taken advantage of. I’m smart!” She continued rambling, only this time she was pacing in front of him. “And I know you think I’m just some stupid American, but I graduated from Harvard and Yale. And yes, okay, so maybe I read romance novels, but I also read the Wall Street Journal. I was voted most likely to succeed, and at the age of twenty, I had already made enough investments on my own to retire, for crying out loud!” Her fists were clenched so tightly she could feel the blood draining from them.

“And—” She lifted up a finger to add to her already well-made point, but his mouth was already crushing down onto hers, leaving her breathless and angry and too confused to do anything except kiss him back.

And kiss him back she did. Her hands went possessively through his chestnut hair. She tugged at the little strands and felt his kiss deepen as she did so. Gasps for air were heard from both, but neither of them stopped the scandalous embrace. What was more surprising was she was enjoying this kiss more than any kiss before. Apparently, it was the one thing British men were good at.

His tongue tasted her lips then dipped inside her mouth, teasing every sense she possessed. Her body was on fire. Whatever he had awakened in her—it felt good. It wasn’t until moments later they finally broke apart, and it wasn’t because either of them wanted to stop.

No. It was because someone had cleared a throat.

Kessen was too mortified to even look. Christian, however, looked beyond pleased with himself, making her want to slap the smug grin directly off of him. He turned to face the person standing at the door and paled immediately.

Chapter Seven

Kessen’s curiosity got the best of her, and she slowly moved her head to where Christian was looking. It appeared the night could in fact get worse, when she realized her own grandmother was standing at the door with an older gentleman at her side.

“Love,” she said evenly, “I would like you to meet the current Duke of Albany, William Vandenbrook.”

Christian cursed under his breath then disclosed, “My father.”

“Swell,” she croaked.

Now if her life were a book, which it obviously was not, this would be the point in the book where the grandmother would be outraged and tell both guilty parties it was time for them to get married. News would spread throughout the ton until everyone knew their shame, and she would become the future Duchess of Albany, all the while falling in love with her betrothed and thanking her lucky stars for making her follow him out into the garden.

If her life were a book. But it was not, which meant she could smile through this awkward situation and eat her body weight in chocolate later tonight, when she remembered how embarrassing it was to be caught making out by one’s grandmother.

Grandmother had an odd look on her face—almost as if she had just trapped Kessen into something—but for crying out loud, it was 2012 What could they possibly do?

And then a camera went off.

And another.

And another.

Until Kessen was absolutely blinded by flashes of lights. She tried to keep a straight face as paparazzi began pouring out of the bushes. Sure, it had been a bunny rabbit, but the rabbit had been scared off for other reasons entirely. The media had been parked just outside waiting for something like this to happen. And they had heard every word.

Panicked, she looked to Christian, who seemed equally as alarmed. He looked to his father for an explanation, but his father looked to her grandmother, and—wait a second… Did they just shake hands?

****

“You have got to be kidding me!” Kessen wailed towards the ceiling. She had her hand raised above her head as if God was punishing her, which in hindsight He probably was. After all, she was making out shamelessly in the gardens. Is kissing so bad? Huh, God? Is it? Can’t a girl have a little fun on vacation?

The answer was a resounding no.

Christian hadn’t said a word since their discovery. Security guards shooed the paparazzi away, but the damage had already been done. The worst part was Christian’s dad had just that night made an announcement that his son was to be married by the end of the year.

The timing could not be any worse.

All signs pointed to the sudden arrival of Lord Newberry’s daughter. It was a match made in aristocratic heaven. Sure her blood wasn’t as blue as most Vandenbrooks would have liked, a comment made earlier by the duke himself, but she was still an heiress, after all. The Newberry money would propel the Vandenbrooks and the Newberrys into the highest of social circles—not that they weren’t already dangerously close … plus the press would have a field day.

Just think—a Brit born in America, coming home to her beloved country to marry the heir to the dukedom. How romantic.

Yet every inch of her body revolted against the idea. This was not the plan. Her plan had been to simply do her father’s bidding and return home as the new CEO of the London operation, not get married to a duke and live in Hades for the rest of her existence.

She hadn’t even seen her cousin since arriving. When she finally asked her grandmother where her cousin was, she gave her a blank stare as if to say, “You didn’t know?”

“She has gone on holiday for a few weeks and will return right before the wedding,” her grandmother said absentmindedly.

These are the things which kept Kessen biting her nails as she sat in the large salon, waiting for the Vandenbrooks to make a statement.

Christian wasn’t helping; he kept looking at her with hate in his eyes. The looks she threw back were nothing short of mutual understanding. She had her arms crossed over her chest, as if uncrossing them would lead to more pleasurable things.

And why couldn’t she stop thinking about that stupid kiss? Well, if she was being honest with herself, and apparently it was a night for honesty, it wasn’t really just a kiss. It had been a make out session from heaven. Only the ending had been a little off.

She moaned, and then realized it had been loud enough for Christian to hear. He lifted one eyebrow and smirked at her. Thank God he couldn’t see how much of an effect he had on her. Her stomach fluttered treacherously while she used all the strength she could muster to turn away.

Just then her grandmother and the duke entered arm in arm. They both looked extremely pleased, which did not make Kessen feel any better.

The duke spoke first. “I would like to be the first to offer congratulations on your engagement. I had been hoping it would be a higher match…” His eyes settled on Kessen. “…But the Newberry family is a close second to the family I already had in mind for our alliance. You will do quite well, Kessen. And Christian…” He went to grab his hands. “I see the title and all the wealth will pass down to you after all. Never fear. I wouldn’t dream of disinheriting you, now that you have a fiancée to take care of!”

Kessen’s grandmother was suppressing laughter as she stepped toward them. “Oh, my love! You look tired; doesn’t she look tired?” She glanced to the duke, who nodded his head emphatically. “Why don’t you and Christian go have a little snack in the kitchen while we discuss specifics?”

“Certainly.” Christian finally broke his long silence.

“Stupid kitchen’s the reason for this fiasco in the first place,” Kessen mumbled, but Christian must have heard, because the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile.

As soon as they exited the room, they pushed one another away. “This is all your fault!” Kessen accused. “How was I supposed to know there were paparazzi?”

Christian refused to comment. Instead he sent an ugly sneer her way before opening the door and puffing up his chest. “I’m sure you’re used to gentlemen falling all over themselves for you, Kessen, but please. Do you honestly think someone like me would need to trap you in order to get you?”

Kessen saw red.

Of course, she had read numerous stories where women swear they saw nothing but red when they got angry, and she was having a real-life experience of it in this moment. Nobody should be held accountable for doing things when they saw red … nobody.

She threw a wooden spoon.

He ducked, quite agile for a Brit.

He grabbed a pot as she began throwing limes, oranges, and pears—anything she could find, until she found a large grilling fork.

“Aha!” she yelled, pointing it out in front of her.

“My apologies, Father. Can’t get married, because my fiancée is crazy!” he yelled, knocking the fork out of her hands and tackling her, sending both of them sailing into the flour.

****

Christian hadn’t meant to lose all control, but he couldn’t be held responsible for any of his actions in the presence of Kessen. She absolutely brought out the worst in him, which suffice to say, was not a pretty sight.

He felt as if they were in slow motion when they finally sailed into the flour. He had managed to get all sharp pointy objects away from Kessen except the fork, which was now flying across the room at an alarming speed.

And then the flour hit. He couldn’t even see for a few seconds as the air filled with white dust particles settling onto what seemed like every square inch of his body and Kessen’s. She coughed beneath him, and then laughed.

It was devastating.

And at that moment, in the flour with the most irritating American girl he had ever met, he became completely ruined.

His body was already responding to his head, as everything began pulsating with heat. She was aggravating, but she was interesting, and he wanted her.

In fact, he couldn’t remember a time when he had wanted a woman this badly, and he had had a lot of women during his years at university.

Then she smiled, all covered in flour and innocent. Their foreheads touched, and their eyes locked. He shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t, but he was having trouble with self-control that night.

His lips descended towards hers. Obviously he had already made the decision, and he didn’t care about anything but tasting her again.

Another throat cleared. There had to be another type of signal people could use.

He looked up to see her grandmother regarding them with the most peculiar look on her face.

“Food fight?” she asked, arms still crossed but eyes twinkling with mischief.

Christian jerked away from Kessen and helped her up from the floor.

“No,” Kessen answered. “Christian was throwing flour at me, and then he threw a fork, Grandma. A fork—as in a sharp object! I barely escaped with my life.” She bent down and kissed her on the cheek. Goodnight.”

She turned and winked at Christian, then walked out of the kitchen.

The little minx had totally thrown him under the bus. He looked guiltily from the flour to her grandmother and shrugged, because what else could he do? He could deny it, but it would be her word against his.

Lady Newberry walked strategically through the flour and put both tiny hands on his chest. “You, sir, are going to have your hands full with that one.”

“Understatement of the century,” he murmured and kissed the sweet lady on the cheek. “Good evening, Lady Newberry. May I call on Kessen tomorrow?”

“I’ll make certain she’s ready,” she answered, waving him off.

Kessen was unwise to provoke him, or poke the beast, as they say. She couldn’t fool him, and the sooner she realized how evenly matched they actually were, the better off both of them would be in this engagement.

At this point he was powerless to stop it. Saying it was a mistake or an accident would bring embarrassment on both families. The only option was to suck it up and get married. He knew Kessen’s type; she was married to her work, and he was the same way. How bad could marrying Kessen be? She was wildly attractive—obviously he wanted her—and she would keep him on his toes. She would definitely look good on his arm, not that he would ever admit it to her. Admitting she was eye candy would probably provoke her to shave her head; she was that type of girl.