Billionaire's Contract Engagement (9 page)

W
aking in bed with Evan didn’t bring about the immediate what-the-hell-have-I-done feeling she would have thought. No, when her eyes opened, she registered a fantastic male body wrapped around hers, and instead of shoving him over and wailing on about how dumb she was, she snuggled deeper into his embrace and soaked up every minute of the lazy morning.

“Good morning,” Evan murmured against her temple.

“Mmm.”

He chuckled softly and rolled away for a moment.

“Damn.”

“I don’t like that damn,” she grumbled. “Bad things are going to happen after that word.”

He sighed in regret. “Sorry. Yeah, we have to get up.”

“What time is it?”

“Noon.”

Her eyes popped open and she scrambled up to look over his body at the clock.

“Noon? I’ve never slept until noon in my life!”

He grinned and tugged her down onto his chest. “Glad I could contribute to your downfall then.”

“So arrogant,” she said. “Now let me go, otherwise I’ll look like a bag lady for your brother’s wedding.”

“I like bag ladies.”

She snorted. “Ladies carrying Hermes Berkin bags maybe.”

He gave her a puzzled look that suggested he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about. She rolled her eyes and then pried herself out of his arms.

“Come on, get up,” she coaxed. “The sooner we get it over with, the sooner you can see your brother and his new wife on their way, and we can go home.”

He threw off the covers, and she nearly squeaked as he got up from the bed, stark naked. Then she realized that she wasn’t any more clothed, and she fled for the bathroom, his laughter ringing in her ears.

Two hours later, dressed appropriately, they made their way to the terrace where the lovebirds would exchange their vows. As they reached the door leading out, Evan slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side.

Warmth spread through her cheeks until she remembered that this was all for show. She’d been stupid to forget that even for a moment.

When navigating the chairs and the people mingling became too difficult, he loosened his hold on her waist and tucked her hand in his instead. His fingers laced with hers and his thumb rubbed her palm as he smiled and said his hellos.

The preceremony was a bit of a madhouse and was without structure. Everyone just gathered on the terrace overlooking the cozy inlet, talking and visiting until finally Evan’s father stood close to the floral arch and raised his hands for attention.

“If everyone will take their seats, I believe we’re ready to begin.”

Evan led Celia to the front row where they sat beside Lucy and Marshall. Evan kept a firm hold on her hand until Bettina made her appearance.

Despite his seeming indifference, Evan’s demeanor changed as soon as the ceremony began. His fingers loosened from hers until she drew her hand away to rest in her own lap. He made no move to prevent the action.

His gaze was locked on Bettina and his brother, and he wasn’t smiling as the rest of the attendees were. He looked like a stone pillar. No emotion.

What made it worse was when Lucy started sending sidelong glances at Evan. She’d obviously picked up on his coldness.

It begged the question as to whether Evan was as unaffected as he’d reported. Did he still love Bettina? If he was to be believed, he never had, but then did a man like Evan fall in love?

His association with Bettina could hardly be deemed romantic. He’d formed a shopping list for a prospective bride and he hadn’t looked far. The first suitable candidate he’d found he put a ring on her finger and that was that.

Celia glanced down at the diamond gleaming on her third finger and winced.

Oh, Celia, tell me you haven’t gotten caught up in this nonsense. You’re too practical.

She almost snorted. When it came to Evan, practicality didn’t crop up first. Or second or even third. She’d lusted after forbidden fruit from the moment she’d seen him.

A tiny, unwelcome thought niggled at her consciousness. Would she have begged so hard to be the one to pitch to Evan if she hadn’t been so fascinated with him? Another derisive sound had to be stifled. Fascination was a very tame word to describe her fixation with Evan. Attracted. That wasn’t a very descriptive word, either. It seemed no matter the word, it didn’t do justice to the overwhelming barrage of sensations she experienced in his presence.

Thank God the weekend was almost over and she could hopefully gain some objectivity again. This ruse of theirs was a dangerous fantasy for her. If she didn’t remove herself from it immediately, she was going to fall complete victim to it.

She could just see trying to explain that to her boss. The boss who had put his company’s fate in her hands.

And then the ceremony was over and suddenly Evan was smiling down at her once more. She promptly forgot all about her worries and reservations.

Once again he was attentive. He touched her frequently as if he couldn’t keep his hands off her. It made her nuts the way her body leaped to life under his attention, but she couldn’t control it.

As they waited behind the line of people going back inside, Evan leaned down and nuzzled her ear.

“Let’s go have some fun at the reception,” he murmured. “You, me, a little dirty dancing…”

She laughed as the tightness left her chest. It was hard to remember all the reasons she shouldn’t become involved with this man when he charmed her to her toes.

She tucked her hand willingly in his, and this time she curled her fingers around his as he led her into the hotel. No, logically she shouldn’t immerse herself in this charade. But then attraction was anything but logical. She had only a few more hours before she would be jolted back to reality. She planned to enjoy every single one of them.

They danced. Slow, sensual songs and even the more upbeat tunes. Evan was astonishingly adept as he spun her around the room. Somehow she hadn’t seen him as the type to do more than a staid waltz or just a slow cuddle type dance in the middle of the floor.

She should have known. The man was a study in athletic grace.

They took a quick break and Evan left Celia to go get drinks for them both. Celia turned to see Lucy approaching through the crowd, her face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Celia! I’m so glad I got over to you before Evan spirits you away again.”

Celia smiled warmly back at Evan’s mother.

Lucy reached out to squeeze Celia’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough for coming. It’s so obvious that the two or you are in love.”

It took everything Celia had not to react to that statement. Obvious? How could it be? In lust, yes, but love? Evan would be horrified that his farce had worked a little too well. Nothing like a rumor of being in love to scare off the opposite sex. A man like Evan probably had more women than he could shake a stick at.

But he didn’t take any of them to the wedding. He’d taken her.

Business, Celia reminded herself. It was convenient and business had been at the forefront of his mind.

“The two of you make such a lovely couple,” Lucy said wistfully. “I do hope you’ll agree to a wedding date soon. Don’t make him wait, even though I’m sure he deserves it. I want him to be happy.”

“I’m sure the both of us will come up with a mutually satisfactory date,” Celia said diplomatically.

Lucy squeezed again and then suddenly Celia found herself enveloped in the older woman’s arms.

“It was a joy to have you here, Celia. I can’t wait to see you again.”

Lucy drew away, beaming at Celia the entire time, and Celia felt like the lowest form of pond scum for her part in deceiving this woman.

“Oh, look, there’s Evan with your drink. I’ll disappear now and let you two get back to your fun.”

Lucy blew a kiss in Evan’s direction and melted back into the crowd.

“What was that all about?” Evan asked as he approached.

He handed her a wineglass and stepped in close, their bodies touching.

Celia grimaced. “She was telling me how wonderful she thought it was that we’re getting married.”

“Ah, well, that would explain the look of torture in your eyes.”

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close. He stared down into her eyes, and then he simply kissed her.

Stunned that he would be so public, even when perpetuating a hoax, she stood there in the circle of his arms while he kissed her senseless.

Desire unfurled and spread rapid fire through her belly. All he had to do was kiss her and she was helpless to do anything more than respond.

“You know, we have late check-out,” he murmured against her lips. “Very late check-out. My jet can leave at my ready. What do you say we go back to the room?”

No. They needed to return home. She needed the weekend to be over so she could recover her sanity. But instead of no, she opened her mouth and whispered, “yes.”

The predatory gleam was back in his eyes. He put both their glasses down on a nearby table and then he took her hand and all but dragged her from the reception. They ran down the hallway to the elevator like two hormonally imbalanced teenagers.

When they reached the room, he threw open the door, swung her into his arms and carried her straight to the bedroom. He plopped her down on the bed and stood back as he tore out of his clothes.

She leaned up on one elbow to stare appreciatively at his physique.

“You know,” she said coyly. “There is one of your fantasies we haven’t played out yet.”

His eyebrows shot up and then he crawled onto the bed until he loomed menacingly over her.

“Oh, really. Which one?”

She circled her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. Then she slid her mouth to his ear to whisper in shocking detail exactly which fantasy she was talking about.

Evan’s plane landed in San Francisco close to midnight. He helped her down the steps onto the tarmac and stood next to her as they waited for his car to pull forward.

He touched her cheek, pushing aside a stray strand of hair. In truth, she looked and felt disheveled from head to toe. What had started as a quick interlude had turned into an afternoon of wanton, hedonistic pleasure. They’d made love more times than she could count.

They’d stumbled out of the hotel looking like a pair of illicit lovers hurrying back to their spouses after a hot weekend affair.

She shook her head to clear that notion. There was nothing dishonorable about her liaison with Evan. It was separate from business, she asserted firmly. Separate.

“Are you sure you won’t let me escort you home?” Evan asked.

He glanced between her and the car that was now parked a few feet away, and his lips were drawn into a fine line.

She shook her head. “No, you still have to fly back to Seattle, and it’s already past midnight. I’ll be fine. Your driver will take good care of me.”

He looked as if he was going to press the point when she raised her hand. The diamond caught the glare from the headlights. Slowly she removed the thin band from her finger and pressed the ring into Evan’s palm.

“I won’t be needing this anymore,” she said lightly.

He frowned as he stared down at the delicate piece of jewelry lying in his hand.

It was ridiculous that this felt like a real break-up. Her heart seized and she had the absurd urge to snatch the ring back out of his hand and put it back on her finger.

She leaned up on tiptoe and brushed her lips across his cheek. “Goodbye, Evan. Have a safe trip home.”

She turned and allowed the driver to usher her into the backseat. As they pulled away, she saw Evan standing in the same place she’d left him, his hand closed around the ring. They stared at each other through the window until the car got too far away for her to see him any longer.

E
van tucked his hand into his pocket to touch the diamond engagement ring Celia had given back to him the night before. His finger ran over the edges, took it out and let it lay in his palm to catch the light.

For a long while, he stared down at it before closing his hand over it. As his driver pulled to the curb in front of Maddox Communications, he shoved the ring back into his pocket.

Celia wouldn’t be expecting him. Hell, he wasn’t expecting him. To be here, that is. He was supposed to have flown back to Seattle. He had any number of issues to deal with including talking to his team about Noah Hart. They needed to come big with an offer, and they needed to make sure any offer they made was tied up neatly with a big bow.

Yet, here he was, getting out at Celia’s building because he wanted to see her again. And business had nothing to do with it.

He instructed his driver to find suitable parking and to
swing back around when he phoned to say he was ready. Then he headed into the stately building to take the elevator up to the sixth floor.

When he stepped off, he was immediately impressed with the very modern, “in touch” feel of Maddox Communications. There was a lot of attention given to comfort, and it worked, because he felt relaxed.

Two large-screen plasma televisions were positioned on either side of the large reception desk, and Maddox’s latest ad campaigns were predominately displayed in a series of commercials.

Behind the desk, a cheerful looking younger woman smiled a warm welcome as he approached.

“Good morning and welcome to Maddox Communications.”

He returned her smile. “Can you tell Celia Taylor that Evan Reese is here to see her?”

The sudden awareness in the receptionist’s eyes told him she knew well who he was. She recovered quickly, though. With brisk efficiency, she rounded the corner of her desk and gestured toward the set of couches in the waiting area.

“If you’ll have a seat, I’ll get her at once. Would you care for some coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

She turned to stride down the hallway, leaving Evan standing there. He walked to the window to look down on the street instead of sitting. If he had his way, he wouldn’t be here for long anyway.

A few moments later, he heard the tap tap of heels and turned to see Celia approaching, a confused, wary look in her eyes.

“Evan,” she greeted. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I thought you were going back to Seattle. Is anything wrong?”

She’d put her impersonal business face on the moment he looked up. It annoyed him that she was pushing him away, already distancing herself from the weekend they’d shared. It
should be him doing the pushing. He should have gotten her out of his system after making love to her more times than he could count.

But he hadn’t, which was why he found himself standing here, trying to come up with an excuse to see her again.

“Nothing’s wrong. My plans changed. I thought we could have lunch. If you’re free, that is.”

She checked her watch, a quick, nervous motion that told him she was merely stalling—and trying to think of an excuse why she couldn’t.

“I would very much like to have lunch with you, Celia.”

Her forehead wrinkled in indecision. She nibbled at her bottom lip. He took advantage of that moment to move closer until he crowded her. Before she could take a step back, he grasped her arm.

Alarm flared in her eyes, and she broke the contact, stepping hastily away as she stared wildly in all directions.

“For God’s sake, Evan, not here,” she hissed.

Her hand trembled as she raised one to smooth her hair. Instead of repairing the knot, she only managed to work more strands free. They fell down her neck, calling attention to the slim column. He was reminded of all the time he’d spent nibbling at that sweet flesh.

He raised an eyebrow at her vehemence but kept his distance.

“Lunch?”

“All right. Let me get my purse. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Her dismissal rankled him. He was used to calling the shots when it came to women and relationships.

Hell, now he was thinking of her in terms of a relationship? The only thing he should be thinking was how quickly he could get her back into bed so that hopefully this time he’d get rid of the burning ache he felt when she crossed his mind.

Crossed
. What a funny word, one that denoted an occasional, unintentional meeting. She lived in his mind. He
didn’t like it, didn’t particularly care for the implication, but he was powerless to rid himself of her assault on his senses.

He stared at her for a long moment, and only because he was convinced she was ready to bolt, did he acquiesce.

“All right. I’ll call my driver around. Oh, and Celia. I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Celia spun around before she exploded. She wished she could blame it all on her anger and his arrogance, but she’d been flabbergasted when Shelby had rushed into her office to tell her Evan Reese was here and he wanted to see her.

The giddy thrill that sizzled down her spine annoyed her. And then his arrogant presumption that she’d drop everything to have lunch with him. He didn’t like to be kept waiting. Who did he think he was?

She sighed as she collected her purse. Where to even begin? He was an important client. The most important client of her career. And then there was the fact she’d acted as his fake fiancée, and oh yeah, she’d slept with him. Repeatedly.

A hot blush shot up her neck and nearly burned her cheeks off as she remembered just how often they’d had sex. They’d re-enacted all his fantasies and some of hers, too.

They’d been insatiable.

Hell and damnation but she’d expected several days to recover from the weekend before she had to see him again. In her utter befuddlement and not to mention being blown over by the sex, she hadn’t even mentioned the season opener to Evan.

It was as good an excuse as any to accompany him to lunch. At least then she could pretend it was all about business.

After a quick wave to Shelby, she rode the elevator down to the first floor. She passed the busy American cuisine restaurant with the lunch crowd lined up at the door and exited the building.

Evan was standing at the curb, one hand resting on the open door to the backseat of his car, the other shoved into
his pocket. He looked positively arrogant. Like he not only belonged in the world but owned it.

He nodded as she approached and motioned her inside the car. Then he slid in beside her and shut the door.

“I thought we could eat at this restaurant I know across town. It’s small and not so well-known, but the food is excellent and it affords privacy.”

He looked at her almost like the last was a challenge.

She tilted her chin up and stared coolly at him. She hoped that she looked as unruffled as she wanted to portray.

“Is this business, Evan? Why did you come to my office today?”

His mouth tightened briefly before he relaxed and eyed her with thinly veiled amusement.

“We slept together, Celia. I don’t think lunch is that scandalous given that fact.”

She curled her fingers into tight fists. She wanted to close her eyes and moan her dismay. No, she doubted he’d understand why it was so important to her that there be no hint of impropriety between them. He was the type who’d never let what others thought rule his life. She hated that evidently she was the type. Hated it but couldn’t change it.

“Evan.”

She stopped when her voice cracked. She felt like the worst sort of idiot. Around others she had no problem being blunt—and forceful when the occasion called for it. But with Evan, she was ridiculously tongue-tied.

“Yes?” he prompted.

He wore a curious smile, almost as if he found her and the situation amusing. It made her angry.

“We can’t do this. We simply can’t. This weekend was a huge mistake. I don’t want to be one of these women who say no, no, no, and then yes, yes, yes and then spend the next week castigating myself for my weakness. I shouldn’t have slept with you. I swear, I left my brain behind when we went to Catalina. I knew what I was getting into. Don’t get me
wrong. I don’t blame you or think you manipulated me into having sex with you. I’m a big girl and I knew full well what I was doing. It doesn’t make me any less stupid, mind you.”

Evan simply hauled her into his arms and stifled her tirade with a kiss. Not just any kiss. He devoured her whole. She melted—positively melted—in his arms. She went limp against him.

Yep, she was one of those silly women at the mercy of her hormones.

She placed both hands on his chest and shoved until they sat apart, both breathing raggedly. She probably looked demented sitting there, hair askew, chest heaving up and down as if she’d run a marathon.

“Stop kissing me!”

He smiled again, a lazy, sensual smile of a lion standing over its prey. She was lunch apparently.

“But I like kissing you and I try never to deny myself life’s little pleasures.”

She rolled her eyes then caught herself before she laughed.

“Dammit, Evan. Be serious for one minute. I mean it. Stop kissing me and stop touching me.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I won’t touch you.”

She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and moved as far over in the seat as she could. Why had she agreed to lunch with him? Why?

Because you’re a masochist and you can’t resist him
.

There was that.

She’s always thought it was a myth. The out-of-control hormones that made an otherwise intelligent woman make waste of her brain cells every time she came into contact with the one.

She was certainly proving the waste of brain cells to be true.

The rest of the journey was spent in brooding silence. Evan
was silent and Celia brooded. When they finally pulled up to a restaurant that boasted the best seafood on the west coast, she raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Try it first and then tell me if you disagree,” Evan said in amusement.

He was becoming way too adept at reading her and it annoyed her to no end, especially since she had no idea what went on in his head. She was afraid to find out.

When she stepped out and glanced around, she had to hand it to him. For a man who didn’t seemingly care if they were seen together or not and certainly didn’t have the objections she had, he’d chosen a restaurant where they weren’t likely to be seen by anyone who knew them.

Evan guided her in to the rustic cedar building with its quasi-southern charm mixed with California décor. It was an odd blend that, to her surprise, worked well.

The two sat in the far corner where the lighting so was so dim a small kerosene lantern sat in the middle of the table to offer ambience.

“I feel like I’m on a first date,” she said ruefully after Evan had ordered the wine.

He smiled and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Would it make me less of a jerk to be up front about the fact I plan to have you in my bed tonight?”

She sucked in her breath until she felt curiously lightheaded. She suspected of course, but to hear him say it outright was way sexier than it should have been.

“I have to go back to work,” she murmured.

He nodded. “Of course. I didn’t intend to spirit you away for an afternoon tryst, though the idea has merit. I wonder if your coworkers would call the police?”

She glared at him—determined not to laugh. But even her scowl twitched. Irreverent bastard.

The waiter appeared with food, and she blinked because
she hadn’t remembered ordering. She glanced at the half-empty wineglass and couldn’t for the life of her remember drinking so much as a sip. Evan was bad, bad for her brain. He was as bad as some wasting disease. She wouldn’t survive, either.

“Evan,” she began again, and promptly shut up when it came out more as a plaintive wail than a protest.

“I’ll send a car for you, Celia. No one needs to see you getting into a vehicle with me. I’ll have my driver pick you up from work, or if you prefer, you can drive your car to your apartment and I’ll have him pick you up there. And I’ll have him take you home in time for you to prepare for work.”

Why wasn’t she immediately shutting him down? Instead of telling him that in no uncertain terms would she agree to such a thing, she found herself contemplating how decadent it would be to dash off to an elicit rendezvous with her lover.

She shivered at the word
lover
. Evan was a superb specimen of a man. He was fantastic in bed and insatiable to boot. He knew how to pleasure a woman and was as unselfish a lover as she’d ever had. The mere idea of spending the night with him had her tied in so many knots it would take a team of massage therapists to work them out.

She chewed absently at the food, not registering the taste or even what she ate. Her throat was as dry as the desert and her tongue was swollen and clumsy.

“You act as though it’s a crime for us to make love,” he said in an oddly tender voice.

If it had been coaxing or wheedling, she could have been cold to him. But she could swear he was reassuring her and attempting to allay her fears.

She licked her lips and raised her gaze to meet his. Awareness hit her square in the chest. In his eyes she saw undulating bodies. Hers and his. In perfect rhythm. So beautiful and so pleasurable that she closed her eyes to further immerse herself in the memory.

“Say yes.”

His voice stroked her as surely as his fingers had done. A prickle of goose bumps spread rapidly over her shoulders and down her chest until her nipples tightened into two painful knots.

“Celia,” he prompted.

Finally she opened her eyes and fixed him with her unfocused gaze.

“Yes,” she whispered.