Billionaire's Contract Engagement (7 page)

He drank deeply, not wanting the moment to end. He could spend hours kissing her, but he wanted more. He wanted to work his mouth down the curve of her jaw to her neck. He wanted to peel every layer of clothing from her body and then run his tongue over her soft skin.

He wondered what her breasts would feel like in his hands and what her nipples would taste like, how they’d feel as he sucked them into his mouth.

Oh, yes, he’d spent a lot of time wondering about her breasts. She never wore clothing that could be deemed too provocative. She was fashionable, yes, but he secretly wished she’d wear something a little more revealing. It was killing him not to get a hint of her full, ripe breasts.

Soon. Soon, he’d unwrap all of her. He’d possess her. She’d be his.

He needed air and he broke away only long enough to pull oxygen into his starving lungs. She gasped along with him, and then he started at the corner of her mouth and licked and kissed his way across to the other corner.

Her small hands slid up his chest. It was like a heating element sliding over his skin. She left a blazing trail of fierce need in her wake. His entire body came alive, and all she’d done was touch him. Innocently.

They wound up around his neck and then her fingertips just delved into the hair at his nape. He shuddered, and it was all he could do to retain his tight hold on his control.

His body screamed at him to haul her over his shoulder and drag her caveman-style to the bedroom. He’d rip off her clothes and spend the night taking her over and over until they both succumbed to exhaustion.

His mind yelled at him to be careful. To take it slow. Not to push her so far away that she never returned.

It was that fear of driving her away permanently that finally pulled him back from the brink of insanity.

With great reluctance, he pulled back. His hands were still tangled up in her hair, and he carefully extricated them from the heavy coil that lay over her shoulders.

Her eyes were cloudy, a gorgeous mix of confusion and desire that had him wanting to throw caution to the wind and continue his seduction.

“That,” he whispered, “is what I’ve been wanting to do ever since I saw you across a crowded room six months ago. Now you tell me this has anything to do with Maddox Communications and Reese Enterprises.”

Her hand fluttered to her mouth and she stared at him with shocked awareness.

“Oh, God, Evan. What are we going to do?”

He smiled gently and slowly pulled her hand away from her swollen lips.

“What we’re going to do is get your pitch out of the way tomorrow morning. Whatever happens afterward, we take it as it comes.”

T
here was no need for Celia to set her alarm. She never went to sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her senses completely shattered by something as simple as a kiss.

No. That kiss could never ever be called simple.

She’d thought to go over her pitch. Mentally replay everything she wanted to say until it flowed seamlessly through her mind. But all she’d been able to do was lay there and wonder how she was going to manage to keep things with Evan on a strictly professional level.

He kissed like a dream.

He’d make love like a dream.

And the sick thing was she’d never find out.

She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow.

Celia, Celia
.

The admonishment burned like acid on her tongue. She was walking a very tight, very dangerous line. It was bad enough that she was here with Evan. Sharing a suite with Evan. Her groan was swallowed up by the pillow.

The least she could have done was insisted on a separate room, but that wouldn’t have gone far in convincing his family that they were happily engaged.

Friendship. Okay, she could handle a friendship with Evan. She liked him. He asked her to consider this a personal favor. As a friend. And she’d forget the kiss. Forget that he had made his intention to make love to her abundantly clear.

All she had to do was get through her presentation, go to a rehearsal dinner, wedding and reception with Evan—as his fiancée—and then she could go home and put him firmly back in his neat, tidy little corner.

She struggled out of bed, knowing it would take her the better part of an hour to erase the look of someone who hadn’t slept. Evan had ordered room service to be brought up at eight, and she wanted plenty of time to go over her notes again.

She purposely toned down her looks, choosing subtle makeup. She did nothing to highlight her eyes, which were her best feature. And she pulled her hair back into a tight knot and used hairspray to keep the wispy tendrils from escaping. She wanted no distractions. No sizzling looks. No temptation to do something utterly stupid.

To her immense relief, when she walked out of her bedroom, Evan was in total business mode. He didn’t stare at her like he was set to devour her. He gave her a cursory glance and motioned for her to sit across from him at the dining table where breakfast had already been served.

“We can eat and talk, or we can eat and then talk. Strictly up to you,” he said when she took her seat.

“We can eat and talk,” she said. “I’m not using props or anything, and I planned it to be more conversational than a formal presentation.”

He nodded approvingly. “Great. Let’s dig in and get started then.”

There was a moment of transition where they ate in silence before Celia shut off everything but the task at hand. This was her career and she knew she was damn good at it. She hadn’t
gotten to where she was and survived the pitfalls without the ability to put her game face on in the face of adversity.

“I studied your last ad campaign, and I believe you’re missing a huge segment of your target audience.”

He blinked, set his fork down and stared across at her. “Okay, you have my attention.”

“Perhaps I should put it another way. I think you’re not targeting the right audience. You’re missing a huge opportunity.”

She paused for effect and then segued into her spiel.

“Right now you appeal to the sports crowd. The guy who jogs. The woman who goes to the gym. The person who cares about staying in shape. You’re all about functionality. The kids who play sports. The guys who play racquetball at the club. The casual basketball game on the weekends.”

Evan nodded.

“Then there are the people, like me, who are allergic to physical activity.”

He snorted and sent an appraising look over her body.

She ignored him and continued on.

“These are the people who watch sports. They’re tuned in to every game. The players. The teams. They run the gambit from the fanatic to the casual observer. They’re the people who will buy your sportswear not because they’re going to worry over the functionality. They don’t care. They want to look cool. They want to immerse themselves in the aura of the sports world. You’re a brand, a label. It’s a status symbol.”

Her excitement mounted with every word. He was listening intently. She had him.

“So you do dual marketing. You go after the die-hard fitness enthusiast with the sweaty workout commercials. The driven athlete who’s going to be the best and wearing your brand the entire time.”

Again she paused to gauge his reaction, and he was leaning forward, his brow creased in concentration.

“Then you go after the men and the women and the kids
who want your clothing and your shoes because they look good. Because they make them feel athletic without ever lifting a finger. You show them someone looking cool and sophisticated in your clothing. You show them it’s hip to have Reese Wear. They can be average, everyday Joes and still know what it feels like to be a star.”

Then she went for the kill shot. Her excitement mounted because she knew he was interested. This had nothing to do with personal attraction. He was all business right now and his eyes gleamed with enthusiasm.

“And the person you show to both of these groups, the man you have doing the sweaty, driven shoots and the cool, suave commercials is Noah Hart.”

Evan’s eyes widened a fraction, and then he sat back in his seat. “Wait a minute.”

She waited, trying valiantly to hide her smug grin. This would be the fun part.

“You’re telling me you can get me Noah Hart?” He didn’t even wait for her to reply. “Companies have been after Noah Hart ever since he entered the major leagues.”

“Before,” she said airily. “They wanted him out of college.”

“Whatever. The point is, the man has never agreed to an endorsement deal. What makes you think you can change his mind?”

“And if I told you he’s willing to talk to you?”

“No way,” Evan breathed.

“It’ll cost you.”

“Hell, it would be worth it!” His eyes narrowed again. “He’ll talk to me. You’ve already been in contact with him?”

“I might have mentioned the possibility of you doing a new ad campaign.”

“And he’s interested?”

“He’ll talk to you. I provided him research, which means you passed the first round of scrutiny with him. He’s a hard guy. You land him and it’ll be huge. Not only will you have a
kick-ass ad campaign, but you’ll also be the guy who signed Noah Hart.”

“I’d want exclusivity,” Evan said quickly.

“You’d have to be prepared to pay for that privilege,” Celia pointed out. She wasn’t about to tell Evan that exclusivity or not, the chances of Noah agreeing to do another deal with someone else was slim to none. The man simply wasn’t motivated by money.

“Okay, let’s forget Noah Hart for the moment. I like your ideas, Celia. I mean, the average Joe has never escaped my notice, but you’re right. I’ve never gone after him in marketing. My commercials are always about the drive to succeed. I talk to the athlete in all of us.”

“Which I’ve just pointed out doesn’t exist in everyone,” she said drily.

“Yes, you’re right. Completely. The junior-high kid trying to look cool. Huge market there that I’ve yet to tap.”

“Most of my ideas are about how to structure television commercials, Internet advertising and print media to target all segments of the population from the die-hard sports and fitness enthusiast to Suzy Homemaker who just wants a comfortable pair of tennis shoes. We’d speak separately to teens, young adults all the way up to the retired folks.”

Evan nodded. “I’m interested. Definitely interested. When can you have a presentation put together for me? As I said before, I’m ready to move on this. I don’t mind taking a little extra time if I can be guaranteed better results.”

“You tell me when you can meet with us at Maddox and I’ll arrange it,” she said evenly.

“And Noah Hart?”

“I’ll arrange it as soon as we get back.”

“Then I’d say you’ve got your pitch appointment, Celia. I’m very impressed with what you’ve had to say. If your presentation delivers on the promise of your ideas, it’s something my company will be very excited about.”

Though she had every confidence in her ability to win him
over, his enthusiasm gave her a wicked thrill. She was forced to play it cool and smile politely as she thanked him, but on the inside she was doing an insane victory dance.

She had phone calls to make. Brock would need to know so they could start preparing. They’d want to do mock-ups of the advertising and have it prominently displayed on the television monitors in the Maddox reception area. On the day she’d give Evan her presentation, Maddox Communications would be all about Reese Enterprises. No one else would exist in the timeframe Evan was present in their offices.

“You have to tell me how you managed to get Noah Hart to agree to talk to me,” Evan said as he pushed his plate aside.

A small smile flirted at the edges of her mouth and she suppressed the urge to grin broadly.

“I can’t reveal all my secrets.”

“You pull this off and you’ll be legendary,” Evan said. “The man has never so much as been tempted to take a deal.”

Okay, now she felt a little like a fraud. Legendary indeed. While she did love having an ace up her sleeve, she felt a little squeamish over Evan’s praise. Noah Hart was her big brother, and the truth was, there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for his little sister. Never mind that she’d never asked him for any such favor before. She was this time, and it was the only reason Noah was contemplating breaking his long-held policy.

“Don’t fawn yet,” she murmured. “He might prove to be too expensive for you.”

Evan’s eyes glinted with a predatory gleam. He had the look of a man sure of himself and all things.

“I’ve not found many things in life that proved to be too expensive. I may not always want to pay the price, but rarely have I found them out of my range.”

She smiled. “I sensed that about you, which is why I thought you might be the one Noah would come to terms with. I think the two of you are probably a lot alike.”

Evan cocked his head to the side. “Just how well do you know him?”

Her lips lifted again, but she didn’t answer. Evan’s BlackBerry rang and provided much needed distraction. She wasn’t ready to tell Evan about her relationship with Noah. Not yet.

She tuned into Evan’s conversation when he said her name. He was obviously talking to his mom.

“We’ll be there this afternoon. Four o’clock. Yes, I know. I won’t miss it. Dinner afterward. Celia and I are having lunch together down by the marina. We’ll meet you back at the hotel in time for rehearsal. You have my word.”

He hung up and let out a sigh as he tucked the phone back into his pocket.

“The woman is convinced I’ll flake on the wedding. I wonder how on earth she got that idea?”

It was said so innocently that Celia burst into laughter. Evan joined her and business was effectively put back out of the way once more.

T
he nice lunch by the harbor never happened. As Evan and Celia were leaving the hotel, they ran into Evan’s parents and Mitchell and Bettina.

Lucy was thrilled, since they were on their way to lunch, as well, and she suggested they eat together before they gathered on the terrace for the very informal rehearsal.

It amused Celia that there would even be an actual rehearsal of the ceremony since it wasn’t a big affair and the bride and groom only had two attendants each. Still, it was evidently important to keep up appearances because they were going all out with a full-blown rehearsal and a dinner and party afterward.

Bettina acted less than thrilled that Celia and Evan would be joining them for lunch. Mitchell was visibly uncomfortable. When they were seated, as luck would have it, Evan and Celia were placed across the table from Bettina and Mitchell while Lucy and Marshall sat on the ends.

As a result, Celia was treated to Bettina’s malevolent stare.
The woman wasn’t even subtle about it. She picked Celia apart like a bug under a microscope.

Evan reached for her hand under the table and gave her a squeeze. She couldn’t figure out if it was a gesture of support, sympathy or a thank-you.

She turned and gave him a smile. For a long moment their gazes locked and he smiled back.

“Tell me, Celia, what is it that you do? Evan tells me you live in San Francisco. Will you be moving once you and Evan are married?”

Celia turned to Lucy in surprise. The questions were natural for a mother to ask, but Celia hadn’t been prepared for them. Who was she kidding? She hadn’t been prepared for any of this.

“Celia is a crack advertising executive,” Evan smoothly inserted. “We haven’t discussed where we’ll live after we’re married. Her career is very important to her. I’d never expect her to give it up.”

Oh, the man was good. If she was getting married, she’d want the guy she was marrying to say exactly what Evan had said, and she’d want him to mean every word.

Bettina sniffed. “But don’t you feel a woman’s place is at home with the children? You do plan on having children don’t you?”

Celia frowned as she stared at the other woman. Was she for real? Granted she was young. Celia guessed she was in her early twenties. What the hell had Evan been thinking when he’d hooked up with her in the first place? She was practically an infant and Evan had to be pushing forty.

“I don’t see that it’s any of your concern whether I want children or not and as for where my place is, it’s wherever I’m the happiest,” Celia said. “I fail to see how I could possibly be the best wife and mother by staying at home and being miserable.”

Bettina looked genuinely confused. “I feel it’s important for
a woman not to overshadow her husband. A husband’s job is to provide for his family. I’d never take that away from him.”

Celia snorted. “You keep telling yourself that, honey. Call me up when your provider husband has decided he no longer wants that job and is going to leave you and the children to go find himself. Then tell me how important it was for you to depend solely on him for your support, and then tell me how easy it is to go find a job making enough money to support yourself and your children when the sole job experience on your resume is changing diapers and cooking dinner.”

Evan choked on his laughter while Lucy’s eyes widened in shock. Mitchell looked a little green while Bettina’s mouth hung open. Marshall cleared his throat and actually looked at Celia with something akin to respect.

“Well said, young lady. A woman should never put the welfare of herself and her children solely in her husband’s hands no matter how solid the relationship.”

“Marshall!”

Lucy sounded positively scandalized.

Evan sat back and looked at his dad. “You see why I’m so determined to marry her. If my company ever goes bankrupt, I can stay at home and let her support me.”

The two men burst into laughter and Evan squeezed her hand harder.

“Have you two set a date yet?” Mitchell asked, entering the conversation for the first time.

He’d been strangely silent, and he’d studied her and Evan until Celia squirmed under his scrutiny.

Not wanting Evan to do all the talking, even if this was his charade and not hers, she smiled and looked back at Mitchell.

“He’s only just convinced me to marry him. I did make him wait, and he had to ask me several times.”

Evan squeezed again only this time it was a definite retaliation squeeze. She grinned and plunged ahead.

“I finally put him out of his misery and said yes. He wants a
short engagement.” Some little evil imp made her poke Bettina a little with that statement since Evan had kept prolonging their engagement. “He wanted to elope to Las Vegas, but I want to take our time and really get to know each other before we tie the knot.”

Evan made a strangled noise and promptly took a long drink of his wine. Celia kept a perfectly straight face as she took in the reactions of Evan’s family.

Lucy looked wary. Bettina looked murderous. Mitchell had a strange look that could only be interpreted as a cross between regret and sadness while Marshall nodded approvingly. He reached over to slap his son on the back.

“You’ve got yourself a winner here, son. I heartily approve. This one will keep you on your toes well into your old age. I like her.”

Greaaat. She had the approval of her fake father-in-law to be. She looked over at Evan as guilt swamped her. She’d gotten carried away and hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity to needle Evan a bit. Though he deserved it, she still felt bad about carrying things so far.

To her surprise, he was staring thoughtfully at her, his eyes warm with something she was afraid to analyze.

“I absolutely agree,” Evan murmured. “I’m a very lucky man.”

Evan kept a possessive arm wrapped around Celia’s waist as they navigated the small field of people in the ballroom where everyone had gathered after the rehearsal dinner.

A band played, and already several couples were dancing, his mom and dad included.

He knew the closeness between him and Celia was all for show, but the primitive part of him recognized his desire to publicly brand her as his woman. She’d probably knee him right in the groin if she had any inkling what his thoughts were. The image made him wince and chuckle all at the same time.

Every time he looked at Bettina, he was gripped by such gratitude and relief that it staggered him. How close he’d come to an unmitigated disaster.

All the things he had thought he wanted were ludicrous in hindsight. A woman like Bettina would never hold his attention for long. She didn’t challenge him.

He wanted someone intelligent, as driven as he was, someone he could consider a partner.

Someone like Celia.

His lips tightened. Thanks to his decision to go with Maddox—he hadn’t told Celia yet—a relationship between them was impossible. Not that he’d give a rat’s ass that she worked for him indirectly, but Celia would never agree.

“If you hold me any tighter, someone’s going to call the police on us,” Celia murmured.

He loosened his hold on her waist and uttered a low apology.

“Let’s dance,” she suggested. “You’re way too tense. No one’s ever going to believe we’re newly engaged and head over heels in loooove with you scowling like that.”

“You’re right. Sorry. Got distracted.”

“I’ll try not to take that personally,” she teased.

He relaxed immediately and let her pull him onto the dance floor. The music was slow and seductive and gave him the perfect opportunity to do what he’d been wanting to do all damn day. Hold her flush against his body so he could feel every one of her soft, delectable curves.

They fit perfectly and he tucked her as close as she would go. His cheek rested against her temple as he slowly whirled her around the floor. Her hips swayed, brushing her belly across his groin. He let one hand trail down her spine and over the curve of one hip.

She tensed a moment, and he wondered if she’d tell him to back off but then she relaxed with a sigh and melted into his arms once more.

“You were fantastic at lunch today,” he said against her ear.
“I never thought my father would become such a fan. He’s typically a stodgy, conservative chauvinist.”

Her shoulders shook with laughter. “He’d fit in quite well with my family then. My father and brothers think my sole ambition in life should be to look pretty and let them take care of me.”

“I’m going to admit something,” he said gravely.

She turned her face up, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, do tell. Is this where you divulge your deepest, darkest secrets?”

“You could try to express an appropriate amount of appreciation for my confiding in you,” he huffed.

“Very well. Let me just bat my eyelashes in adoration, but be quick or I’ll mess up my mascara.”

He shook his head as helpless laughter escaped. “What I was going to admit was that while I truly appreciate and agree with everything you had to say, there is a caveman lurking underneath my civilized exterior. I can see why your family wants to protect and take care of you. I think if you were mine, I’d feel much the same way.”

Her lips parted, and she stared at him with the oddest expression. There was no anger or condemnation. Interest and something else gleamed in her emerald eyes.

“And sometimes I think if you were mine, I just might let you,” she said huskily.

His entire body tightened. His hand raced up her spine and he curled his fingers gently at her nape. Their eyes were locked together and all he had to do was lean down. Just a bit. He could taste her already.

His head lowered. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she let out a breathy, feminine sigh of anticipation.

“Evan, you’ve monopolized her long enough.”

His father’s voice boomed in his ears and Evan jumped, sending Celia away from him for a brief moment.

Marshall stood there expectantly. “Going to let me cut in?”

Evan slipped Celia’s hand into his father’s. “Of course. Just don’t keep her for long.”

Marshall chuckled as he spirited Celia away. “One dance won’t kill you, son.”

Evan watched his dad whirl Celia across the floor. In a word, she was magnificent. She laughed at something he said and her smile lit up the entire room. She sparkled.

“Quite a woman,” Mitchell drawled.

Evan stiffened and turned to see his brother standing there, drink in hand.

“Where’s the bride-to-be?” Evan asked. “Didn’t figure she’d let you out of her sight until the vows are spoken.”

Mitchell shrugged. “She’s over with Mom, talking about the honeymoon arrangements.” He looked again at Celia and their father. “You’re marrying her for real?”

“Is there some reason I shouldn’t?” Evan asked mildly.

“Doesn’t seem your type.”

Evan regarded his brother with curiosity. “And what is my type?”

“Someone like Bettina. You seemed pretty hung up on her.”

“I think it’s safe to say I’m not hung up on Bettina.”

“I can see why you’re attracted to her,” Mitchell said.

“Who?” Evan demanded sharply.

“Celia.”

Both men stared across the room to where Celia danced with Marshall.

“She’s a beautiful woman. I bet she’s awesome in bed.”

Evan rounded furiously on his brother. “You shut the hell up. Don’t even breathe her name again. You got it?”

Mitchell smiled and backed away, holding his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re awfully touchy about her. Funny, you weren’t that pissed when you found out about Bettina.”

Mitchell sauntered off and Evan turned away, angry that he’d let his brother goad him.

“Evan, there you are.”

He sighed when his mom latched on to his arm and dragged him over to introduce him to people he had zero interest in and would never see again in his life. After several minutes of pleasantries, Evan grew restless. The song ended, and he turned in search of Celia.

His father was making his way through the crowd toward Evan and Lucy, but Celia was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Evan scanned the room until finally he found her.

She was dancing with Mitchell. She didn’t look altogether thrilled, but Mitchell was smiling as he held Celia close.

Irrational anger exploded over Evan. All he could see was that it was Bettina all over again, only this time it mattered. This was Celia. His Celia.

His brother was a slimy predator. Never mind that Celia was perfectly capable of fending off any advances. He didn’t even imagine she’d ever be receptive to an overture on Mitchell’s part. But the fact that his brother would behave this way at his own wedding celebration enraged Evan.

His woman. He let Bettina go because she was never his. Celia was his even if she hadn’t recognized that little fact.

Not stopping to think how it would look to others, he cut a path through the crowd that had people exclaiming on either side of him. When he got to Mitchell and Celia, he reached for his brother’s arm and spun him around.

“What the—” Mitchell began.

His eyes narrowed angrily, but Evan stopped him with a look.

“You’ll excuse us, Mitchell. I find I’ve spent entirely too much time away from my fiancée.”

Celia stared at both brothers in shock but didn’t utter a single protest when Evan all but dragged her out of the ballroom and into the hallway.

The predator had been unleashed. No way he’d stand by and watch his brother move in on what he considered his.

He stalked toward the elevator, his only thought to get Celia
as far away from everyone else as possible. He punched the button and hauled her inside. As soon as the door closed, he slammed her against the back wall and angled his mouth over hers.

It was like a fuse igniting. Desire sizzled down his spine, frying every nerve ending in its path. He wasn’t gentle. He wasn’t sure he had it in him. He devoured her. Claimed her.

She gasped for breath, and he stole it as soon as she could gain it back.

“Evan, what on earth…”

The question ended on a moan as his mouth slid down her jaw to her neck. He sucked hungrily at the soft skin just below her ear.