The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (7 page)

"You're crazy, Charlotte. Crazy and stupid and in big trouble."

I opened my eyes and stared at my reflection in the mirror again.

It was Sunday morning and I had just finished getting ready for brunch with the Maxfields. I wasn't sure whether I was supposed to dress casually as Martin had seen me before, or dress up so that I looked like an appropriate bride for his son. In the end, I went with the outfit that Felicty and Armina picked out for me—happy to not have to make a choice of my own in the end.

It was a sleeveless, eggshell-pink shift dress cinched at the waist with a thin, dark pink leather belt and I paired it up with nude, high-heeled pumps made comfortable by two-inch platforms. I encouraged the natural wave in my hair with some light mousse as per Clyde's recommendation and let it hang loose around my shoulders. As for my face, I simply dabbed on some blush, flicked on some mascara and swiped a strawberry lip-balm across my mouth. 

I looked like a perfect lady and decided that it wasn't right because it didn't look like me at all.

For fun, I layered on a string of pearls and my old, long necklace with a dainty skull-shaped pendant and opted for my favorite denim wristlet instead of the fancy clutch Armina paired up with this outfit. I replaced the pretty belt with a black, single-grommet leather one I've had for years.

Satisfied, I headed out of the bedroom, grabbing my new, cropped denim jacket along the way.

Brandon had already arrived, dressed in dark jeans, a navy blue sweater and a cognac-colored leather bomber jacket. He was devastating and if I were weak, I'd combust on the spot. Unfortunately, I might not get away without at least a slow burning.

 
He was talking with Gilles in the kitchen and the two men's conversation halted when they saw me. 

"I'll get the car ready," Gilles said with a small nod before turning to go and leaving Brandon alone by the kitchen island. 

"Where's your driver?" I asked, looking around the house. "I didn't get to meet him."

"He just dropped me off and will meet me back at Dad's house," Brandon answered distractedly as he walked around and circled me in inspection. 

He kept circling me like a hawk, saying nothing, that my patience snapped. I was still testy from our conversation last night and if he had plans to send me back to my room and change, I'd tell him he and his brunch could go to hell.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm pretty sure Armina knew better than to get you skull accessories," he commented, his expression giving nothing away as he took a step back, his finger lightly brushing the pendant that rested on the swell of my breasts. 

The warmth of his touch seeped through the thin fabric of my dress and gave me a dizzying rush but I shook my head, determined not to let his fleeting intimacies succeed in disarming me. 

"It's mine and it's staying on," I said stubbornly, moving away from him as if it were the only way to stand my ground. "I didn't get a choice in what you got me for clothes so if I choose to play it up, I'll do it and you're not changing my mind."

I refused to let my gaze waver from him, refusing to stand down, but he caught me off guard when he just grinned and tugged at a lock of my hair playfully. 

"Okay," was all he said before he grasped me gently by the elbow and ushered me to the door. 

I was still reeling from his reaction as we sat together in the backseat of the car on the way to Martin's house. I couldn't muster any kind of conversation. 

I watched absently as Brandon pushed a button that raised the panel separating us from Gilles up front, giving us some privacy.

"You look pretty," he finally said.

I felt flustered. I wasn't used to compliments from him. "You too."

Amusement flickered in his eyes as I groaned after realizing what I said. "I mean, you look handsome but you probably hear that all the time so just forget about it, okay?"

His thigh brushed mine. "Why the hell would I? For one, it's a compliment coming from my fiancee, which I've never gotten before since I've never been engaged and two, it's a small victory to hear you admit it."

"As if you need more victories," I muttered, sagging against the seat. "I hardly need any more intimidation considering I'm about ten minutes away from facing your father. He's going to take one look at me and figure it all out."

"Hey, don't think like that," he said, grabbing my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. 

Pushing my chin up with another hand, he urged me to meet his eyes—his infernally beautiful, gold-flecked eyes. "Listen to me. I know that Dad won't expect us to be crazy in love with each other. He knows I've never met you before he handed down this condition and he knows how much of a fight I'd put up. He's not going to look for hearts and roses but he'll know if we're faking the attraction. The only way we can convince him that this isn't a total ploy—that we're going into this with some semblance of interest—is to act like we're attracted to each other."

Attracted. I'm like metal to a magnet. 

"But we're not," I murmured, my gaze lowering to his lips which were suddenly too near. "Attracted, I mean. We're not attracted to each other."

He laughed softly. "I would've said that earlier this week. I'm not really sure anymore."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm not going to put up another kissing performance in front of your father because when I slap you hard, he won't have a doubt in the world that this is a total hoax."

His thumb on the hand entwined with mine rubbed lazy circles on my palm as his eyes lowered to my mouth. "Then don't slap me. Let me kiss you. Enjoy it. Respond to it."

Evil words, I know, but they sent a shot of longing through my bones all the same.

I bit my lip, still stubborn. "I don't just let random guys kiss me."

His mouth quirked on one corner. "I'm not some random guy. I'm your future husband."

"You're my future husband in name only," I corrected. "Which is probably worse."

He sighed but his arm somehow made its way around my waist and he dragged me closer to him with it. "Fine. Then think of me as some guy you're attracted to. Some guy you like spending time with. Some guy you find sweet. Some guy you won't mind if he slowly leans in close and tells you you're beautiful. Some guy who draws you into an intimate moment. Some guy you want to be close to. Some guy you're curious to kiss. Some guy whose lips you want to feel on yours."

The moment was hypnotic that my eyes simply fluttered close when Brandon's lips brushed mine.

"Some guy whose arms you want to hold you."

I sank deeper into his embrace as his arms tightened around me, gathering me over his lap.

"Some guy who's going to earn every kiss you give him back."

His tongue teased at the seam of my lips, coaxing for entrance and gaining it with barely any resistance from me. My hand found its way to the nape of his neck, my fingers raking through his hair as our kiss fused into shared gasps and moans. 

"Who's going to make every conscious thought vanish," he said as we pulled away for a fraction of a second to drag in more air. "Who's going to make you senseless with want, boneless with desire."

I shivered as his hot, demanding mouth reclaimed mine, his hand sliding down to cup my breast, his thumb kneading intently on the hardened tip straining against the confines of my bra.

Tormented by a sudden ache that tightened my every nerve ending, I gasped out his name and let my head roll back, arching to his touch as he leaned close and anchored his mouth on my neck.

"Well, I guess that tells me everything I need to know."

The amused statement cut through the thick fog of my lust and snapped me back to reality with the effectiveness of an ice-cold bath.

My eyes widened as it focused on the open door of the car that revealed us to an awaiting audience of four people—Martin and his other three children with his late wife Evelyn.

"Close your eyes, Mattie!" the shrill voice of the eldest sister, Anna, broke through my shock and horror as I watched her wrap a hand over the glasses of the youngest Maxfield sibling, probaby nine or ten, who stood in front of her on the front steps.

"I can't believe you brought her here, Brandon!" Anna continued on acidly, glaring at her older brother who was still straddled under me, his hands resting on my hips. 

I glanced down at him in stupefied speechlessness and found him smiling up at me, his hazel eyes bright with good humor and his kiss-swollen lips curved into a lazy smile. Realizing our position, I jumped off his lap and scrambled into a corner of the backseat behind Brandon as if to protect myself from his family.

"Of course, I brought her here, Anna," Brandon said as he straightened up and grabbed me by the wrist. "She's your future sister-in-law. There's no better time for you to get to know her than today."

Oh, God. He has no idea. Absolutely none!

"But we already know her, Brand," Tessa, the more soft-spoken sister, a year younger than Anna, said as her brown eyes gazed back at me. "She went to high school with us."

Brandon didn't seem surprised as he slid out of the car and held the car door open for me. "Yes, same school but I doubt that your class mingled with the working students, Tess, which is why you probably don't know Charlotte very well."

"If they did, I'd have fewer problems," Martin muttered under his breath as he stepped forward and extended a hand to me, smiling broadly. "Hello, Charlotte. Missed me?"

The old man's eyes were sky-blue and kind and my initial horror quickly disappeared.

This was Martin, after all. He knew in the years we've known each other that I was part of the working-student program at his daughters' high school. I worked at the library and cafeteria and attended a lot of the night and weekend classes. He never once looked down on me for it.

Guilt flooded through me at the reminder of the deception Brandon and I were pulling in front of his family but the happy expression on Martin's face told me he wasn't complaining about what he was seeing. In fact, he looked younger and healthier, as if his optimistic mood had been therapeutic. He didn't even seem to mind that he'd just opened the door to find me mauling his eldest son in the back seat of the town car.

"Hi, Martin. Good to see you again," I said shyly as I took his hand and eased out of the car, trying as subtly as I could to straighten my dress as Brandon reached out to brush my hair down and tuck a stray lock behind my ear. The intimate gesture alarmed me that I swatted his hand before I could think better of it and he retaliated with a rakish grin and a pinch of my nose.

Martin, having seen the exchange, laughed out loud and pulled me in for a quick hug. "It is good to see you, Charlotte, especially here with my son and his ring on your finger."

My heart plummeted into my stomach but Brandon smoothly wrapped an arm behind my waist and pulled me to his side, the gesture oddly reassuring when it was simply another embellishment to our act. "I couldn't let her get away. She didn't make it easy on me but I quickly convinced her."

He gave me a meaningful but teasing look and I flushed. "Yes, well. When Brandon has his mind set on something, nothing can stop him. It was a little overwhelming at first but I like a decisive guy."

Martin beamed at us. "I'm glad to hear that. You know I welcome you to my family like one of my own, Charlotte, but in case you haven't had any proper introductions to them, these are my daughters, Anna and Tessa, and my youngest son, Matthew. Children, this is Charlotte Samuels—a good friend of mine and your brother's fiancee."

"Can I look at her now?" Matt blurted out, still trying to pry off Anna's hands from his eyes. "She's not kissing Brand anymore, is she? They need to come up for air."

Brandon chuckled and clapped his baby brother's shoulder, effectively tearing him away from Anna's constrictive grip so he could take off his glasses and wipe at them with the edge of his shirt. "It's all good, Mattie. You should meet Charlotte."

I smiled at the young boy who was gazing up at me through the thick lens of his glasses with wide blue eyes the same color as Martin's. Matthew was almost cherubic with the floppy, dark blond hair which was probably Martin's original hair color before it turned silver, and possessed none of his older brother's dark and stark, masculine beauty. 

"Hello, Matthew," I said to him as I extended my hand. He tentatively took it and returned my handshake. "It's nice to meet you. How's the music-writing going? Any new compositions?"

Surprise registered on the boy's face before it broke into a shy grin. "You know I write music?"

"Of course," I said with a nod. "Martin and I are old friends. He told me how talented you are with the piano. Brandon told me the same thing. I look forward to hearing you play."

Brandon's hand on my waist gave a slight squeeze and I glanced up at him and found him smiling softly at me. He'd never mentioned his brother to me but I could tell he wouldn't have disagreed with what I said.

"Okay," Matthew said, a blush pinkening his cheeks. "I can play for you if you want to listen later. And you can call me Mattie. My family does."

"She's not family," Anna hissed.

"She will be in a less than two weeks," Brandon said in a firm voice. "I expect you and Tessa to treat her like she's one of us. With all your expensive schooling, I imagine you won't have any trouble being polite and well-mannered."