Книга - The Secret Mistress Arrangement

The Secret Mistress Arrangement
Kimberly Lang


One week of red-hot passion… Time is money to drop-dead gorgeous tycoon Matt Jacobs. But when he meets beautiful Ella Mackenzie at his best friend’s wedding, he decides to break his rule and make the most of his week off work – by spending it in bed with her! One convenient proposal! Strong-willed Ella doesn’t do sleepovers – but Matt’s incredible lovemaking has got her hooked!So when their secret week between the sheets comes to an end, Ella finds herself accepting the sort of indecent proposal she never thought she’d consider…







The mood shifted the moment Matt touched her.

Light flirtation was over. This was serious stuff. Ella tried to ignore his hand as he tucked the wayward strands behind her ear, but couldn’t. A shiver ran down her spine, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning, just slightly, into his hand.

“You, Ella, are beautiful, smart, and can single-handedly organize large weddings.” He brushed her bangs back off her face. His hand slid down so that he cupped her cheek. His eyes locked with hers. “That’s impressive.”

He was so close Ella could feel his breath and the warmth radiating off his body. His voice and the gentleness of his hand hypnotized her. He had called her beautiful. This unbelievably gorgeous man had called her beautiful. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed hard—again—but still couldn’t get her voice above a whisper. “I’d say you were the impressive one.”

To illustrate her point, she laid one hand on Matt’s broad shoulder, slid it down to where his biceps bulged under his shirt, and squeezed the hard muscle. She had meant to simply emphasize his size, but at her touch Matt’s breath caught, and his hand reflexively curled around the nape of her neck to pull her closer to him.


Kimberly Lang hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily ever after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.

Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!

This is Kimberly’s debut novelfor Mills & Boon


Modern Heat™!



Dear Reader

I once heard someone describe his ten-year marriage as a ‘one-night stand that just got completely out of hand’. That lit my imagination. How could something so temporary and transient in its nature lead to a happily ever after? Could the intense spark of physical attraction that fuels a one-night stand really have staying power? So I took two characters who seemed likely candidates for a temporary arrangement—Ella, a commitment-phobic control freak, and Matt, a workaholic who lives in a different state—and let those sparks fly. THE SECRET MISTRESS ARRANGEMENT is the result.

Call me a hopeless romantic, but I love to fall in love. That’s why I read romance. But I really love that I’ve found a career where I can do that over and over again—and hopefully give that feeling to readers as well. As my first couple to come to life in the pages of a book, Matt and Ella will always have a special place in my heart. I hope they’ll earn a special place in yours.

All the best

Kimberly




THE SECRET MISTRESS ARRANGEMENT


BY

KIMBERLY LANG




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To my wonderful husband Peter.

Thank you for believing I could do this and for your unwavering support while I did.

I’m very lucky to have you…


CHAPTER ONE

“DAMN, damn, damn!”

Matt leaned on the horn as a Cadillac swerved into his lane without indicating and slowed to about twenty-five miles an hour. He was now over an hour late for the wedding rehearsal, and at this rate he was going to miss the dinner, as well. In Matt Jacobs’s world, only idiots showed up late, and he didn’t like to be one.

He accelerated around the Caddy but suppressed the urge to flip the driver off. How could getting to a wedding be so difficult? Getting to Chicago from Atlanta should have been easy. But, no. Instead, a last-minute client meeting caused him to miss his flight out last night, and bad weather canceled or delayed all outgoing flights this morning. The resulting chaos at Hartsfield airport as the airlines reshuffled put him at O’Hare without even enough time to grab a shower before fighting the traffic out to the church in his old stomping grounds of Berwyn.

His cell phone rang. Glancing at the number, he contemplated ignoring it. He was on his first real vacation in three years, after all. Instead he answered the call on hands-free and barked instructions at the paralegal at the other end.

Swinging the rental car into a parking space at the church, he could see the caterer carrying food into the parish hall behind the sanctuary. At least he was still in time for dinner.

“Look, make the changes they want. It’s not a real problem. Just be sure to run the contract by Darren to double-check before anyone signs it. You all will have to handle this without me. I’ll check messages on Monday, but I’m turning my phone off now.” He tossed the phone into the glove compartment for good measure. He’d been accused of being a workaholic before, and it had served him well so far, but even he had his breaking point. They could damn well get by without him for a week.

The October breeze felt good after a day spent in airports and airplanes, but the nip it carried promised winter was not far behind. Grumbling, he grabbed his jacket from the backseat. He’d traded frigid, snowy winters for hot, sunnier climes years ago and never regretted it.

When he entered the church, he could see Brian surrounded by his family, playing the part of happy groom to the hilt, and several of his high-school friends milling about. He forgot about his disastrous afternoon as Brian caught his eye and waved and Jason, another of their childhood friends, approached Matt with a large grin.

“You made it. I was starting to wonder.”

“Me, too.” Matt ran a tired hand through his hair, wishing again he’d had time for a shower. “Did you pick up my tux?”

“It’s at Brian’s.”

“Thanks. How mad is Brian that I missed the rehearsal?”

“Oh, he’s fine about it. It’s Ella who’s spitting fire.” Jason nodded toward a group of women surrounding the bride.

“Who?”

“The maid of horrors. I’d steer clear if I were you.” Jason paused as a woman carrying a clipboard separated herself from the group and headed in their direction.

Oh, that Ella. In the three years Brian had been dating Melanie, he’d heard about her, but their paths had never crossed before now. “I think she’ll—”

“Too late. Someone’s told her you’re here. See ya.” Jason practically ran toward the other groomsmen, who called out greetings but made no attempt to come over and say hello to him.

Watching Jason hightail it away was strange enough, but the others’ attitudes were equally odd. What was that about? Matt turned his attention to the young woman purposefully approaching him, her high heels tapping on the stone floors.

She was petite, almost tiny really, but perfectly formed for her height. Silky dark hair brushed her shoulders and called attention to her fair skin. In a pale-blue dress that clung in all the right places and seemed to float around her shapely calves, she hardly looked like a harridan who would send Jason skittering off to the safety of the other groomsmen. As she got closer, he could see that what would have normally been a very pretty face was pinched with stress.

“I’m Ella, Melanie’s maid of honor. You’re Matt, right?”

So much for the polite formalities. With a smile meant to charm, he extended his hand to her. “Matt Jacobs, best man, reporting for duty, ma’am.”

“Great.” The word had zero emotion behind it, and she shook his hand absently. “We were worried that you wouldn’t make it at all tonight.” She had yet to actually look at him directly, and he found himself wondering what color her eyes were. She remained focused on the clipboard in front of her and consulted it as she talked. “David Parks stood in for you at the rehearsal. You’ll need to get with him so that he can show you where to go and what to do. We don’t have time to walk through it all again, but David and Brian can probably tell you everything you’ll need to know. If you have any questions, come talk to me.”

She had a soft, almost husky voice that clashed with her size, but her tone was all business. And, unless he was losing it, he was hearing a drawl that said she wasn’t native to the area. “Let’s see, after dinner, Father Mike wants to meet with you and the other groomsmen in his study, so don’t disappear. Now, did someone pick up your tux for you?”

Ella may have been pocket-size, but she was formidable. No wonder Jason ran at her approach. All Matt could do was nod as she jumped from topic to topic.

“Good.” She actually checked something off on the list in front of her. “Be sure to try it on tonight to make sure it fits. Check you have all the shirt studs and cuff links as well. If there are any problems, call the shop in the morning, and they’ll make arrangements for you to come in. Here’s the number.” She handed him a business card. Pausing, she looked him over carefully, eyes narrowed, and he had the uneasy feeling he was being inspected for something. Whatever she was looking for, he guessed he passed, because she nodded and checked something else off her list. “Now, I need to talk to you about the bachelor party. I assume you have something planned for this evening—”

Matt interrupted her with a laugh. “Don’t worry. I already told Melanie that I wouldn’t lead Brian astray or—”

“I don’t care what y’all do.” Surprise and disbelief must have shown on his face because she waved a hand dismissively. “Seriously, I don’t. All I care is that you have Brian at this church, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready for pictures by one o’clock. Understand?”

She finally looked directly at him with her last statement. Wide green eyes held a “Don’t mess with me” warning, and silent agreement seemed the safest course of action.

“Good. Make sure the other groomsmen understand that, as well. I don’t want any bleary, half-drunken men coming in late and unshaven.” Consulting her clipboard one last time, she seemed satisfied and attempted a smile that fell flat when it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know Brian is looking for you, so I’ll let you go find him.” A cell phone Matt hadn’t seen earlier rang, and Ella juggled the clipboard to her other hand as she retrieved it. With an “Excuse me” she was gone, already engrossed in conversation with whoever was on the other end.

Clearly dismissed, he watched her walk to where the caterers were setting up for dinner, obviously unhappy about something and consulting her clipboard as she went.

With Ella’s departure, Jason returned to his side. “I told you so.”

He understood now why Jason and the other groomsmen were staying far away. “Good Lord, I haven’t been talked to like that since Sister Mary Thomas called me into her office in tenth grade after the girls’ locker room had been raided.”

“Exactly.” A bitter and exasperated tone edged Jason’s voice. Ella must have really given him a hard time about something. “Hell, she lined us all up earlier, checking to see if we needed haircuts.”

So that’s what the inspection was about.

“Well, she made an appointment for me to get a haircut and called to make sure I went.” Brian had finally disengaged himself from his family and joined the group surrounding Matt. Brian greeted his oldest and best friend with, “So for once you’re the idiot.”

“I know, I’m sorry. The airline canceled—”

“No problem.” Brian’s good-natured shrug was a nice contrast to Ella’s earlier reaction. “It’s not all that complicated a job. Stand, walk, hold the ring. You’re a smart guy—I think you can handle it.”

“I’m not sure Ella agrees with you.”

“Ella? She knows you’ll have it under control. Melanie and this wedding have her wound a bit tight these days, but Mel would be a complete basket case by now without her. She’s done an amazing job.”

“Well, I don’t know much about her, but she’s certainly missed her true calling.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been telling her for weeks now she should open her own bridal consulting business.”

“I was actually thinking drill sergeant. Or maybe one of those nuns from high school.”

“Ella? A nun? Hardly.” Brian laughed. “We call her Melanie’s attack Chihuahua. Tiny, but fierce when crossed. You might be onto something with the drill sergeant thing, though.” He inclined his head toward his groomsmen. “She certainly has this motley crew toeing the line.”

Matt looked over to where Ella had reestablished herself by Melanie’s side, cell phone and clipboard held unobtrusively behind her back. Whatever the crisis had been, it was either averted or solved, and Ella was all smiles as she talked to Melanie and her family. The pinched look was still there around her eyes, but she certainly no longer looked quite so formidable. In fact, she looked…

No, Ella wasn’t nun material. Hiding that body under a nun’s habit would be a crime. He watched as Ella answered her cell again, and her expression changed from serene to agitated as she read the riot act to the poor fool on the other end. This was going to be one interesting wedding.

Melanie’s wedding day dawned bright and beautiful, and Ella spent the day with her at the local spa being massaged, manicured, coiffed and pampered—in between phone calls concerning minor and major wedding emergencies. She’d intentionally booked Melanie’s treatments opposite hers so the incoming calls would not distract or worry Melanie on her big day, but Ella had her hands full. She dealt with the caterer’s problems during her pedicure and the florist’s glitch during her massage. Brian’s mother called twice during her hair appointment, frustrating both Ella and the stylist. Tension set in to muscles only recently kneaded, and a headache pulsed behind her eyes. She felt like she was the only person to ever leave a spa treatment more stressed than when she went in.

But, as she sat at the head table during the reception watching Melanie and Brian’s first dance, she knew it had all been worth it. Melanie’s wedding was everything they’d hoped for. Melanie glowed with happiness as she smiled at Brian and leaned in close to him. They made a stunning couple—both tall, blond, perfect people—and they were very much, very obviously to everyone, in love.

Ella couldn’t have been more pleased. Or tired. Her face ached from smiling; her hand was limp and slightly bruised from shaking hands with a hundred guests in the receiving line. She was bone-weary from the past weeks of planning, organizing and keeping Mel calm and happy. All right, she’d admit there was a teeny-tiny bit of envy in there, too, but Mel was so blatantly happy, anyone would be envious.

At times like this, she wanted to believe in the fairy tale, the white picket fence and the happily-ever-after. Not that she knew very many people who actually made it work. Her parents had been, as Melanie kindly called it, too “free-spirited” to commit to anyone or anything, preferring free love and the call of the road. Even her grandparents hadn’t managed it. In the end, they’d loved her, but not each other anymore.

But Mel believed it, and Brian knew that a failure on his part to deliver would be a death sentence. Not that she’d needed to make that threat. Melanie was the center of Brian’s universe. Anyone could see that.

Lucky Melanie. Guys like Brian weren’t exactly thick on the ground, though. She had a string of failures to prove it. Not that she was blameless, as Melanie reminded her all too often, but some people just weren’t designed to do the whole my-one-and-only-soul-mate thing.

She was one of them. Bad genes, probably.

Maybe it was exhaustion, or possibly that fifth glass of champagne, but either way, she was getting just a tiny bit maudlin. That had to explain this need to navel gaze in the middle of Melanie’s reception.

Emotion plus champagne equaled weepiness, so she forced herself to concentrate simply on the success of the moment. She could obsess over everything else tomorrow. Once Mel and Brian said their goodbyes, she was going home and going to bed.

Sleep. Sleep was all she needed to get everything back in perspective.

As other couples joined the bride and groom on the dance floor, Ella felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Matt Jacobs standing behind her chair. He held out a hand to her.

“Would you like to dance?”

It took a second for his question to register. One eyebrow arched up in response to her silence and she swallowed her shock. “I’d love to.”

Placing his hand at the small of her back, Matt steered her toward the dance floor, and every nerve ending jumped to full alert. Although she’d been too busy last night to pay much attention to him, her proximity to him today had made it impossible for her not to notice him.

Melanie always described Matt as a cutie, but Ella decided he was really in the drop-dead-gorgeous category—particularly in his tuxedo. And he was huge. The cut of the tux just seemed to emphasize his wide chest, broad shoulders and lean waist. All day she’d felt like a midget just standing next to him—even in heels, she barely reached his shoulders—a feeling not helped by the constant fussing of the photographer as he tried to line them up for photos.

Matt’s size had one benefit, though—he had no problem moving through the crowd. For once she didn’t feel as though she was trying to fight her way through blackberry bramble. Instead folks just magically seemed to move out of the way.

As Matt pulled her into his arms to dance, Ella tilted her head back to look him in the eye. Chocolate. She’d read about men with chocolate-colored eyes, but she’d never met one who actually deserved the adjective. Ringed by lashes any girl would die for, those eyes had the power to turn her insides to mush. Mel’s “cutie” classification seemed a woeful understatement.

When did it get so warm in here?

They made small talk over the music, with Matt having to practically bend himself in half to get close enough to hear her. Each time he did, though, her pulse spiked.

For such a big man, he moved with grace and ease. Ella’s experience with men who could actually dance was very limited, but here was one who could not only dance, but knew how to lead properly as well.

“You keep surprising me, Matt.”

“In good ways, I hope.”

“Oh, definitely.” All day long he’d been Johnny-on-the-spot, graciously assisting Mrs. Chryston to a chair off the aisle when her enormous bulk wouldn’t squeeze into the antique pews of the church, or listening politely to Great-aunt Elaine’s long-winded story of Melanie’s first communion without correcting her when she called him by the wrong name. He even adeptly solved a minor crisis with the limo service before she could even get to the scene.

He’d certainly done his duty as best man—and then some. She owed him big-time. She also owed him an apology. She cringed as she remembered the horrible way she’d talked to him the night before.

She tried to keep her voice light. “I want to apologize for the way I acted last night…and today. I’ve been kind of stressed the past few days, and I’ve been a bit, um, snappish with people.”

Matt cocked that eyebrow at her again and teased, “Is that what you call it? Snappish?”

“In polite society that’s what I’m calling it.” Grateful he wasn’t going to hold a grudge, she relaxed into the conversation. “I know what the groomsmen are calling it when they think I’m out of earshot.”

“You heard that?”

“Uh-huh. Feel free to let them know that I don’t consider ‘control freak’ to be an insult.”

“What about your ‘hair-trigger temper’?”

“If they’d act like adults, they wouldn’t have to worry about my temper.”

He laughed, and the deep rumble moved through her veins like strong coffee—warm and comfortable with enough of a kick to make her blood pump. “You certainly have them running in fear.”

“Well, for the most part, they deserve it. Particularly that Jason.” Her mouth twisted before she could stop it. “I know he’s a good friend of yours, but I swear that boy is completely useless.” She looked over to the bar where Jason had permanently stationed himself for the night and was currently chatting up one of the other bridesmaids.

Matt’s gaze followed hers and he shrugged. “That much I’ll give you. He’s a nice guy, though. Worthless, but basically harmless.”

“If you say so. I really expected Brian to have a more mature group of friends—present company excepted, of course.” He nodded at the backhanded compliment, and she continued with a smile. “But I am sorry for the way I treated you. You didn’t deserve it.” For some reason she couldn’t explain, it was important he realize she wasn’t normally a shrew.

“Apology accepted, but it’s not really needed. Brian’s raved about how you really went above and beyond.” He paused before looking at her questioningly. “Why?”

That caught her off guard. “Why what?”

“Why were you running the wedding? It seems strange that Melanie would put all the work on you when she could have easily hired a professional to do it.”

“Best-friend duty, you know.” At his skeptical look, she searched for the right words. “I want Mel to be happy. Whatever she wants, I want her to have. She wanted this wedding to be perfect, so I was determined to do whatever I had to in order to make it perfect for her. And she’s having a good time, so I’m happy.”

“And you? Are you having a good time?” Matt’s thumb stroked lightly over the skin of her back exposed by the deep halter cut of the dress, and Ella couldn’t concentrate on the conversation. Every nerve in her skin seemed alive and attuned to him. God, he even smells good. Not in an I-bathed-in-my-aftershave kind of way, but a clean, slightly spicy and very masculine way. Each time she inhaled, the scent of him coiled through her and set her pulse to pounding.

She swallowed hard, trying to pull her concentration back to the conversation and away from the totally inappropriate thoughts whirling through her. “Of course. It’s really been a beautiful wedding. I’ll tell you though, as soon as Mel and Brian leave, I’m headed home to crash. I haven’t had much sleep lately.”

“I understand. I was out late last night myself. You know, strippers and hookers and such.” He winked at her.

“I don’t care, and I really don’t want to know,” she reminded him with a laugh. The music ended, and the bandleader announced the garter and bouquet toss. As Matt led her off the dance floor, she remembered something.

“Brian said that you’re staying at his place while you’re in town.” At his nod, she continued. “I have some wedding presents at our apartment that I need to drop off. Would tomorrow afternoon be okay? I have a key, but I don’t want to barge in on you, so I’ll call first.”

“I’ll be at my mother’s most of the day tomorrow, so any time is fine.”

Ella nodded because she knew through Melanie that he had plans for the day. But his next words floored her.

“How about you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night? I’ll take the presents back to Brian’s after and save you a trip.”

“Dinner?” Had she heard him correctly?

“Dinner.”

She was still confused and obviously looked it.

“You know, that meal people eat late in the day? Come on,” he coaxed, “you did a fantastic job with this wedding. Let me take you out to celebrate.”

Where had this come from? “Um, okay…” Realizing she sounded reluctant, she stopped and slapped a smile on her face. “I mean, that sounds great.”

“All right, then. Seven o’clock?”

She nodded, sensible words still escaping her.

“Is Salvador’s okay with you? I haven’t been there in ages.”

Salvador’s was a swanky place close to the South Pond, frequented by the young, beautiful and terminally hip crowd. Ella rarely went there, as she considered herself completely unhip. But the food was great, and if anyone would fit in with the crowd there, it would be Matt. Finally she managed another nod. Great, he’s going to think I’m a bobble-head doll.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay.”

With a smile and a small wave, Matt disappeared into the crowd. Without him to clear the path, Ella had to fight her way to Melanie. Her mind spun. Matt Jacobs wanted to take her out to dinner? Why? She could understand if he didn’t know anyone else in Chicago, but he’d grown up here. His friends and family were here—many of them in this very room. Surely there were plenty of people for him to go out with. So why her?

Confusion, though, couldn’t outrun vanity. To go to Salvador’s with a piece of eye candy like Matt wasn’t an opportunity that came her way every day. Since she was leaving Chicago next week anyway, it wasn’t an opportunity likely to ever happen again.

What on earth would she wear?

She shook her head at her own silliness and continued to fight her way out of the mob.

Melanie was looking for her and pulled her into a tight hug as soon as she made it to her side. “Thank you so much for everything.” Her voice caught, and her eyes misted.

“Don’t you dare start crying,” Ella pleaded as her eyes began to burn. “Your mascara will run.”

“Screw my mascara. Everything has been so perfect today, and I—” Her voice broke this time, and Melanie paused for a deep breath. “I can’t stand it that you won’t be here when I get back. I’m so worried about you being all the way down south without anyone at all.” Melanie managed a short laugh through her tears. “Heck, I’m worried about me—who will I talk to?”

“There’s this wonderful invention called the telephone, you know.” A sniff escaped, and Ella fought to keep herself together. “Anyway, I’ll be back to see you at Thanksgiving. And Christmas. And every other minor holiday, too.” Ella knew she was seconds from bawling her eyes out. “We’ve covered all this already.”

“I know. I’m just going to miss you so much.” Mel drew in a deep shuddering breath. “I love you, El.”

“I love you, too. Now, go. Everyone’s waiting for you to toss the bouquet.”

“I want you to be the one who catches it. It’s time for you to settle down now. Enough of this messing around. Promise me you’ll catch it.”

“I’ll try,” she lied.

Melanie stood on the steps leading out of the hall and turned her back to the crowd. As soon as she did, Ella stepped out of the mosh pit of single women jockeying for position and tried to slip to the sidelines, out of the way.

“One, two, three!” the crowd chanted, and Melanie heaved the bouquet over her shoulder.

But she threw it too high. Instead of flying directly into the waiting crowd, it caught one of the ceiling fan blades and was thrown off course, slicing neatly to the right, away from the mob. Ella looked up in time to see the bouquet headed straight for her. Reflexively, she caught it before it hit her smack in the face. The crowd cheered, and Melanie applauded before she was whisked away into the waiting limo, leaving Ella to face the aftermath alone.

Damn, she thought, as her taxi stood idling where the limo had recently been. So much for early exits. She spent the next hour receiving congratulations and predictions about the lucky groom-to-be. To add insult to injury, that worthless Jason caught the garter, and she was forced to pose with him for photo after humiliating photo. More than once she saw Matt watching her, an amused smile playing around his mouth.

By the time she got home, she was too tired to do more than slide out of her bridesmaid’s dress, leaving it in a puddle of navy silk on the floor, and fall headfirst into bed. Her last thought before exhaustion claimed her was that she still had no idea what she would wear the following night.


CHAPTER TWO

THE doorbell rang promptly at seven, and Ella wasn’t ready. Between sleeping most of the day away and the fact her apartment was complete chaos, the simple act of getting dressed for dinner had taken on farcical properties.

Forced to choose between leaving Matt standing on the front steps or answering the door half-dressed, she padded down the stairs to the door, cinching her robe tightly closed as she went.

“Hi, Matt.”

Whatever he was about to say in greeting died as his gaze swept her from head to toe, taking in her state of undress. Was it her imagination, or did his eyes seem to linger overly long on her legs, exposed by the thigh-length robe? He cleared his throat and looked at her quizzically. “Um, am I early?”

“No,” she said, suddenly very aware of how little she was actually wearing. “I’m running late. Just give me a couple of minutes, though, and I’ll be ready to go. Would you like to come up?”

It was a ridiculous question, as there was no place else for him to wait. While the entry was street level, her apartment was on the second floor of the brownstone. Short of having him sit on the steps, she had to invite him up.

At his nod, she led him up the stairs, belatedly realizing that the shortness of her robe was most likely offering him an unobstructed view of her bottom. She could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. Probably both sets were blushing. Inwardly she groaned. This evening was already off to a bad start.

“Would you like a glass of wine or something?” He declined, so she continued. “Sorry the place is such a wreck. Between the wedding and the packing, everything is upside down. Try to make yourself comfortable, if you can, and I’ll be ready in a minute.” She offered him a half smile and disappeared through one of the doors leading off the living room, leaving it slightly ajar.

Matt tried to compose himself. He’d been knocked off guard when she’d opened the door, and was still recovering from the sight of Ella in that robe. The thin fabric had outlined every curve, clinging to the swell of her breasts. The tightly cinched belt emphasized her tiny waist and the flare of her hips. His eyes had avidly traveled down to the hem that skimmed the top of the most amazing legs he’d ever seen. Firm thighs, muscular calves and ridiculously trim ankles had him thinking that perhaps he was a Leg Man after all. But he changed his mind when she led him up the stairs and he’d been treated to a view of a beautifully shaped derrière clothed only in a thong. He’d been very glad when she left the room, giving him a chance to regain a sense of composure before he made an complete fool of himself.

He still wasn’t completely sure what he was even doing at Ella’s apartment. The invitation to take her to dinner had popped out of his mouth just seconds after it had popped into his head. It seemed perfectly natural at the time: dance with the pretty woman, flirt with the pretty woman, ask the pretty woman to dinner. He’d been as surprised by her answer as she’d been at his question. But he had to admit Ella intrigued him. From drill sergeant to blushing bridesmaid to half-naked temptress, she was quite the puzzle.

A puzzle with one hell of a nice behind, though.

Drawing a deep breath, he looked around the room, trying to pry his mind away from the image of a half-naked Ella in the next room. Empty boxes were piled in every corner, while full boxes marked with either an E or an M were neatly stacked against the far wall. Ella hadn’t been kidding when she called the place a wreck.

“Are you both moving out?” he called into the next room.

“Yeah, it’s crazy, isn’t it? With the wedding and everything, we’re a bit behind on the packing. It’s frustrating, but now that the wedding’s done, I should be able to get something accomplished.” She laughed. “I’d better, because the moving truck will be here on Friday.”

“Where are you moving to?” He could hear her in her bedroom—shuffling noises mostly, with the occasional muttered curse as she either dropped or tripped over something.

“Sweet home Alabama. Specifically, Fort Morgan, where I grew up. It’s down on the Gulf Coast, about three hours east of New Orleans.”

“So you are a Southern girl. I knew I heard a drawl.”

“I know. Even after ten years, people know I’m not from around here the second I open my mouth. It catches them off guard, and it’s kinda funny to see them react.”

He heard a muffled thump, followed by another string of muttering. “Take your time. There’s no hurry. Why are you going back to Alabama?”

“I’ve accepted a job with a company in Pensacola, actually, and it’s just across the state line. It’s an easy commute, and I can still live on the beach.”

Unable to sit calmly, thanks to a raging erection, he wandered around the room, taking in the framed prints and canvases on the walls, hoping to distract himself. Ella, or maybe it was Melanie, had good taste in art. Nothing so mainstream as to be a cliché, but nothing too out there, either. Everything was edgy enough to be interesting, and the pieces made a tasteful and eye-catching collection.

Leaning against the wall, obviously demoted from wall space, based on the dust on their glass, were Melanie’s and Ella’s college degrees. Curious, he pulled Ella’s out for a look.

There was a BS from Northwestern, and a master’s from the University of Chicago, both in computer science and both awarded to Ella Augustine Mackenzie. Augustine? Heck of a name to be saddled with.

Computer science. That seemed a bit odd, because Ella didn’t really strike him as a computer geek. He looked around for evidence to the contrary. A table in the corner held a laptop, but it looked like any other laptop—nothing fancy or complicated. People who spent that amount of time in college studying CS didn’t flip burgers, that’s for sure, but Ella just didn’t fit the usual mental picture.

Drill sergeant, wedding planner and now computer geek. Ella was full of surprises.

Chuckling as another loud thump—followed by a muffled curse this time—echoed from the next room, Matt wandered over to the bookshelf where Mel and Ella had a collection of framed pictures. There were snapshots of Brian and Mel on the beach somewhere, as well as a more formal pose he recognized as their engagement photo. There were many pictures of college-age Mel and Ella—group shots at parties, one of the two of them in front of a Christmas tree and another of them dressed to go to some kind of formal dance. He found family pictures of Mel and her brothers and parents. Ella was in most of the casual shots of Christmas and birthdays. He finally noticed a picture of a teenage Ella, braces and all, posed with an older couple to whom she bore a slight resemblance.

“Those are my grandparents.”

Matt jumped as she spoke from directly behind him. He turned and lost the ability to speak. His mouth went dry, and he swallowed hard at the sight. The robe was gone, replaced by a dark-blue dress that skimmed over the curves of her body. Her shoulders and neck were bare, but she carried a sparkly wrap in one hand. The short dress and high heels only accentuated the incredible legs he’d seen earlier. All those remarkably erotic thoughts he had worked to cast out of his head returned full force.

Ella seemed completely unaware of his reaction to her as she leaned in to take the photo he still held in his hand. As she moved close to him, he caught a whiff of the perfume she wore—a light, but slightly musky, scent—and the erection he had only recently gotten under control began to stir to life again.

“I was sixteen when that picture was taken. My really bad hair aside, it’s one of my favorite photos of us.”

Matt struggled for something intelligent he could say as he tried to get the blood flowing back to his other head. He settled for, “Do they still live in Alabama?”

“No.” Ella shook her head. “Gran died when I was in high school, and Gramps passed about five years ago.” She smiled at the people in the picture fondly.

“And your parents? Are they still down there?”

“My parents both died when I was very young. My grandparents raised me.” She didn’t sound sad, only resigned, like someone who’d come to terms with the loss long ago.

Belatedly he remembered Melanie mentioning that to him before. Unable to think of anything less lame to say, he settled on, “I’m sorry.”

She nodded and placed the picture back on the shelf where he’d found it. “Are you ready?”

“Ready.” He cleared his throat. “You look fantastic, by the way.” He was pleased to see that his ability to talk sensibly was coming back. “Well worth the wait.”

Salvador’s was still the place to see and be seen, and Ella got more than one envious glance from the other women there. Matt just seemed to attract stares from beautiful women, but, to his credit, he did nothing more than return an uncommitted smile. He proved early on he was more than just arm candy and a nice guy: he was a charming and fun date, as well. Their table had an amazing view, situated so neither of them had a back to the window. The chairs were close enough to each other to create an intimate feel while still giving them room to eat.

They ate ridiculously fattening food and talked easily about the wedding and people they both knew. It was, she realized, the best “date” she’d been on in a very long while. And it had been a long while, indeed. She and Stephen had parted ways over six months ago in the ugliest way imaginable. It had been a new low—even for her. But then the wedding plans kicked into high gear and the job from SoftWerx came through, leaving her with little time to think about anything else, much less men.

Just enjoy this for what it is.

As they sat finishing their wine, Matt asked her, “How did a girl from Alabama end up in Chicago? I thought Southerners were allergic to snow.”

“We are.” She laughed and swirled her wine in her glass. “First you have to understand something about kids who grow up in lower Alabama. Their entire teenage years are preoccupied with one thing—getting the hell out of Alabama. I wasn’t any different. So when Northwestern offered me a track scholarship, I jumped on it and moved up here.”

“That explains those amazing legs of yours.”

Ella blushed at the unexpected compliment. He thinks my legs are amazing. She self-consciously uncrossed and recrossed her legs under the table. When she did, she accidentally slid one leg against his. He didn’t move, so she simply enjoyed the pressure of his leg against hers as she sipped her wine.

“Are you fast?”

“What?” She choked on her wine and moved her leg away from his quickly, bumping the table hard as she did. Glassware rattled.

“On the track. Are you still fast?”

Oh, she thought, relieved. “I never was really fast. I ran cross-country. I’m a bit out of shape now, but I do still run for fun.”

“Ah, stamina instead of speed. That’s a good thing.”

Was he flirting? That kind of put a new twist on the evening if he was. Her flirting skills were a bit rusty these days…

“Did you meet Melanie at Northwestern?”

The change in subject jarred a little, but she welcomed it. “We were roommates our freshman year. We lived together all through undergraduate school, then got an apartment together.”

“You two are an unusual pair. You’ve got kind of a yin and yang thing going.”

That caused her to laugh. “I’ve never heard it put quite that way before. But, yeah, we make a good team. Things were rough at the beginning, though. Melanie was out all night majoring in boys and beer, and I had to be up early for track practice. Unfortunately—or in our case, fortunately—University Housing didn’t allow for room switching until a few weeks into the semester. By then we’d worked it out. I guess we’ve rubbed off a bit on each other over the years—filling in the holes, so to speak. It’s going to be really tough to get used to not having her around all the time.”

“Why move home now?” He relaxed back in his chair and casually draped an arm across the back of hers as he asked. The closeness of his body put hers on high alert, and she felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention.

Just focus on the conversation. “Nine Chicago winters too many. Anyway, after spending all those years wanting to get out of Alabama, it didn’t take all that long for me to realize how much I missed it. With Mel getting married and moving out anyway, the job offer seemed like fate or something. Moving while she’s on her honeymoon keeps the goodbyes from being all weepy.”

Matt offered her the last of the wine, and she held out her glass. Full of good food and enjoying both the view and the company, she wasn’t in any hurry for dinner to end. He didn’t seem in a rush, either, so she relaxed back in her chair, enjoying the slight weight of his arm against her.

“So what do you do with those degrees in computer science, Ella Augustine Mackenzie?”

The shock of hearing her middle name nearly caused her to choke on her wine again. Then she remembered pulling her degrees out from storage under the couch last week for packing and leaning them against the wall. He must have seen them earlier. “Hey, Augustine’s a family name.”

Matt snorted.

“What’s your middle name, hotshot?”

“Matthew.”

“Oh.” So much for that witty retort. “What’s your first name, then?”

“William.” A smug smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

“Lucky you. Well, William Matthew Jacobs, until two weeks ago, I was a software designer. Two weeks from now, I’ll be the design team head at SoftWerx.”

Matt let out an impressed whistle. “I’ve heard of them. Congratulations.”

Pride bubbled up inside her. She’d been so caught up in the wedding, she hadn’t had time to fully adjust to the idea of her success. “Your turn. How’d you end up in Atlanta?”

Matt sipped at his wine and signaled the server for the check. “Strictly business. I, too, went to college out of state—Ohio State, actually—but for different reasons than you. Did Melanie tell you I have five brothers?”

“Actually I’ve heard quite a bit about the Jacobs six-pack. I’ve even met a few.”

“There you have it. I was tired of being ‘that youngest Jacobs boy.’ All five of my brothers stayed around here, so I had to be different and go out of state. I ended up at Penn for law school and got in with a local firm. They opened a new office in Atlanta two years later, and I was sent there.” He shrugged as if his job was nothing—the law equivalent of flipping burgers at McDonald’s. Something about the way he carried himself, though, made her think otherwise.

“What kind of law do you practice?”

“Mainly entertainment. I take care of a lot of the contracts for most of the major venues in town. A few local celebs keep us on retainer, as well.”

“Anybody interesting?”

“Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to,” he teased her.

“Do you like Atlanta? I haven’t been there in years.”

“I love it.” His hand came to rest on Ella’s shoulder. Rusty or not at the flirting thing, as his thumb slid lightly over her skin, even she could recognize he was flirting with her. She shivered at the sensation as all her blood seemed to rush to her skin. Focusing on the conversation took on a whole new level of difficulty. “All the excitement of Chicago without all the snow,” he continued, and it took her a second to remember what they were talking about. “In fact, I’ve gotten a bit thin-blooded in the past few years, and I try to avoid coming up here at all in the winter.”

She pulled herself together with a deep breath. “That must make coming home for Christmas a bit difficult.”

“I don’t think anyone notices when I don’t make it.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Seriously, we are the Catholic family cliché. You think Brian’s family is bad? Mine’s worse.”

“I think Brian’s family is nice—a little loud when they’re all together, but…”

“Brian’s got nothing on my family when it comes to loud. My mom and dad have nine brothers and sisters, so I have, let’s see, um, twenty-two—no, twenty-three—first cousins. All my brothers are married and have two or three kids apiece. There’s at least fifty people at my mom’s house on any given holiday. That is the definition of loud.”

She was such a sucker for the idea of a big family gathering—noisy or not. How could he be so blasé about it? “I’m sure they take note of who’s there.”

“Well, my brothers and I look a lot alike, so short of actually calling roll…” He sighed. “Do you have siblings?”

“No, it was just me and my grandparents.”

“Consider yourself lucky. Everyone was at the house today, and it was an absolute zoo. It’s enough to drive a man crazy. I used to dream of being an only child. Sometimes I still do.” Matt was the picture of the aggrieved youngest child, and Ella sipped at the last of her wine to stifle a laugh.

“And I used to dream about being in a big family. I mean, Mel’s family has adopted me, for all intents and purposes, but it’s not quite the same thing. I guess everyone wants what they don’t have.”

“Usually I’d say you were right. Especially after a day like today.”

This time she did laugh. She couldn’t help it. “Mel’s told me about your mother. I can’t imagine she’s too happy with the lack of grandchildren from you.”

“I hear it all the time. Someday I’ll see what I can do about that. Right now it’s not really an option.”

Ella wondered about that statement as Matt moved away from her in order to pay. The light teasing tone that had marked their entire evening evaporated once they started talking about his family. Mel hadn’t mentioned any rifts in the family—not beyond the norm, at least. Maybe he was just touchy about the whole get-married-and-have-kids thing. She could relate to that.

With Matt’s arm gone, she missed the warmth that emanated from him. Although the restaurant temperature was comfortable, she shivered as the heat dissipated. Matt noticed.

“Do you need my jacket?” He was already lifting it off the back of his chair and holding it out to her.

“Your mama must have raised you right. Or else Southern manners have rubbed off on you.”

“I will pass the compliment along to Mom.” He continued to hold the jacket out to her.

“No, but thanks. I’m fine.” She wrapped her shawl around her shoulders as Matt shrugged into his jacket.

But as they left the restaurant, the intimacy they shared also seemed to be left behind, because Matt didn’t flirt with her at all on the way back to her apartment.

Even though it made the situation more complicated, she was more disappointed by that than she cared to admit.


CHAPTER THREE

THE frustration of shifting back to small talk after all that flirting had Ella balancing on her last nerve by the time they reached her apartment. Matt waited as she unlocked the door, then held it open as he ushered her in first.

“I’ll just get those wedding presents out of the way for you.” He followed her up the stairs.

“Thanks. Mel’s brothers are coming Saturday to pick up her furniture and stuff to take to Brian’s, but they didn’t want to be responsible for moving the fragile things.” She pointed in the direction of the boxes. “I’ll go grab some tape to close them up so they’ll be easier to carry. I’m going to change, too, if that’s okay. I’ll kill myself trying to carry stuff down the stairs in this getup.” He nodded, and she added, “There’s wine and beer in the fridge. Help yourself.”

“Thanks. Can I get you anything?”

“Um, wine, please. The glasses are in the cupboard beside the microwave.”

She could hear Matt opening and pouring the wine as she rummaged for something to change into. Yoga pants and a baby tee were easiest to find in the rubble, but slightly revealing. She debated for a moment, but she couldn’t bring herself to appear in front of a muffin like Matt in battered jeans or ratty sweats. Vanity won out over practicality, and she returned to the living room, twisting her hair up into a ponytail as she went.

When Matt’s eyes widened appreciatively at her outfit, she had a momentary surge of girl power. He’d removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and Ella hoped that meant he planned to stay for a little while. She really was enjoying his company, and the ego boost wasn’t bad, either. He offered her one of the glasses with a smile.

“Thanks.” She sipped at the Merlot before setting it aside, and kneeled on the floor next to some boxes to strap tape across their tops. In a conspiratorial tone she asked, “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell Mel or Brian?”

Matt joined her on the floor. “Of course.”

“I hate this china.” She laughed. “Mel fell in love with it at first sight and registered for every piece they made. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen.” She pulled out one of the overly colorful and flowery plates to show him. “What do you think?”

“Yikes. I can’t believe Brian agreed to this.” He took the plate from her hand, and his hand brushed hers. Again her senses jumped to red alert. Had the touch been accidental or intentional?

“As far as I know.” She frowned in mock dismay. “It’s sad. Melanie has such good taste in everything else.” He passed the ugly china back to her before leaning back against the couch and loosening his tie. Another good sign he plans to stay for a while.

“I promise your secret is safe with me. I just hope Mel never invites me to a fancy dinner party. I don’t know if I can eat off that and keep it down.”

Ella also leaned back against the couch. “Unless she calls in a caterer for the event, you have nothing to fear in that arena. I love her, but Mel is a lousy cook. About the only things she can make are scrambled eggs and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The last thing that girl needed was dishes.”

“Uh-oh, better watch out. I may tell on you.”

“That’s an empty threat. God knows I’ve told her the same thing hundreds of times. I think one of the reasons she lived with me was because I could cook. I’ve tried to teach her over the years, but she’s just a bit hopeless in the kitchen.”

Matt tugged his tie the rest of the way off and placed it behind him on the couch. As he leaned forward, those chocolate eyes captured hers. “And you? What are you a bit hopeless at?”

Suddenly, the air felt thick, and her voice didn’t seem to work very well. She cleared her throat and tried for a light, flirtatious tone. “A lady never admits her shortcomings.”

“Come on. Tell me.” His voice dropped, and Ella’s temperature rose several degrees.

She swallowed hard around the knot in her throat. “That’s a rather personal question, don’t you think?”

He reached out to touch a lock of hair that had escaped her ponytail and trailed down the side of her face. Curling it around his finger, he said, “I don’t think so. We all have small things we’re just hopeless at. Me, I can’t get my TiVo to stop taping Brady Bunch reruns. It’s ridiculous.”

The mood shifted the moment Matt touched her. Light flirtation was over. This was serious stuff. Ella tried to ignore his hand as he tucked the wayward strand behind her ear, but couldn’t. He was stroking her earlobe, for heaven’s sake. A shiver ran down her spine, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning, just slightly, into his hand.

“You, Ella, are beautiful, smart, and can singlehandedly organize large weddings.” He brushed her bangs back off her face. His hand slid down so that he cupped her cheek. His eyes locked with hers. “That’s impressive.”

He was so close Ella could feel his breath and the warmth radiating off his body. His voice and the gentleness of his hand hypnotized her. He had called her beautiful. This unbelievably gorgeous man had called her beautiful. Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed hard—again—but still couldn’t get her voice above a whisper. “I’d say you were the impressive one.”

To illustrate her point, she laid one hand on Matt’s broad shoulder, slid it down to where his biceps bulged under his shirt and squeezed the hard muscle. She had meant to simply emphasize his size, but, at her touch, Matt’s breath caught, and his hand reflexively curled around the nape of her neck to pull her closer to him.

“Glad to hear it,” Matt whispered, and then his lips met hers. His first touch was gentle, almost hesitant, barely catching her bottom lip, but Ella leaned in to him. That small encouragement seemed to be all he needed, because his second kiss wasn’t at all hesitant. His mouth moved over hers, forcefully seeking, and she put her arms around his neck. When her lips parted, Matt’s tongue swept inside, sending bolts of pure desire to Ella’s core.

She’d never felt anything like this before, the undiluted sensation of total lust that sent her senses spinning and chased all rational thought out of her head. All she knew was what she felt: the soft thickness of his hair as she held his head to keep him from moving away, the pressure of his body as he lowered her back onto the floor, the hardness of his body as he lay down next to her and pulled her firmly against him.

Bliss.

He was huge, solid muscle all over; she could feel the movement of the bunched muscles of his back and chest under her hands and the hard pressure of his thighs as his legs entwined with hers. His hands roamed restlessly down her back and over the curve of her hip as his lips moved across her jawline and down her neck to her shoulder. Heat rushed to each place his lips touched, causing her to shiver when his mouth moved away and air cooled the moisture left behind. As Matt’s hand finally slid up to gently cup her breast, she gasped and arched into him.

It was the gasp that focused Matt’s attention. His response to Ella amazed him and left him shaken. He’d wanted to taste her all evening, but he hadn’t been prepared for the desire that had slammed through him the moment her tongue touched his. He hadn’t been able to focus on anything but the feel of her since then. He wanted to touch her everywhere, all at once, and his hands slid across her body, learning her. But her gasp had snapped his attention back to Ella’s face. It was his turn to catch his breath.

Ella’s head was thrown back, her eyes closed. A flush spread across her cheeks, and she was breathing shallowly through her mouth. He now knew what lust looked like and was shocked by the same feeling rocketing through him. Carefully he squeezed the breast nestled in his hand, and he was rewarded when her teeth caught her lower lip in response.

She wasn’t wearing a bra beneath her thin T-shirt, and her nipples were hard against the fabric. Caressing the soft curve of her, he leaned down to take her nipple between his lips, sucking her through the soft cotton. She arched again, this time more forcefully, as if electricity had shot through her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against her breast and encouraging him as the tip of his tongue flicked against the hard nub. His hand came up to cover her other breast, kneading gently as he brought his thigh up between her legs to press against her.

Tugging on his head, Ella brought his mouth up to hers and kissed him as she moved restlessly against his thigh. Her tongue wrestled with his, and her hands pulled insistently at his shirt, tugging it out of the waistband of his slacks, and moving beneath to explore his skin.

The feel of her rocking against him was too arousing, and Matt slowly slid his thigh away from her. Something like a whimper escaped Ella at the loss, but was replaced with a sigh as his hand slid down to where his thigh had recently been. He could feel the heat of her through the thin pants she was wearing. With the heel of his hand, he pressed in hard, wringing a moan of pleasure from her lips.

The phone rang, jarring them both with the interruption.

Ella’s eyes flew open, and he watched as the world came back into focus and reality forced the haze from her vision. Matt cursed and dropped his forehead to rest on hers. His own vision clearing, he met her gaze. Ella was stiff and still beneath him, and the location of his hand seemed wildly inappropriate all of a sudden. Her eyes were wide, filled with an emotion he couldn’t identify. Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn’t passion.

Another loud ring, and he whispered, “Ignore it.” He heard the machine pick up, then Melanie’s voice filled the room.

“El? It’s me. Pick up if you’re there.” Even he could hear the tears in her voice. Something was wrong.

The sound of Melanie’s tears galvanized Ella into action. Scrambling, she managed to slide out from under him, and hurried across the room to grab the phone. “Mel, I’m here. What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”





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