Ben read the message from Ethan’s sister to us out loud from his phone, “My cousin is on his way to you now and will bring you up to Hallborough. Look for the tall deadly handsome one. You can’t miss him. LOL. See you soon. Hannah.”
One look at his wide, suggestive eyes paired with the leering grin and I knew exactly what Benny was thinking.
I shook my head at him and rolled my eyes right back. “Filan, your son thinks his mission in life is to find me a man. Can you make him stop?” I pleaded to Ben’s mom.
“Oh, my darling, Gabriellen, I think not. You are too beautiful to be without a man holding you happy in his arms at night.”
I threw up my hands in frustration and raised my eyes heavenward. “I see where he gets it now.”
Filan Clarkson loved her son so very much, but she also loved to mother his friends. She always called me Gabriellen no matter how many times I told her there was no “n” on the end of my name. I’d given up correcting her a long time ago, and I didn’t really even care at this point. She was a stunning woman, a former fashion model who’d made a life for herself in London after fleeing her native Somalia. It was easy to see where Ben got his drive to succeed, as well as his looks. She loved to cook big Sunday meals and invite everyone over to eat. And having someone mother you when your own was gone wasn’t a terribly bad thing after all. I turned away and left them there snickering behind my back while I went to find the loo.
I checked myself in the station bathroom and saw how pale I looked. The strep throat had definitely taken a toll on my body. I’d lost weight and didn’t at all look my best, but there was nothing I could do about it. I pinched my cheeks and shook a hand through my hair to fluff it out before I stopped myself and asked why in the hell it even mattered. I wasn’t the bride. Nobody would be looking at me.
It was time for me to take a pill anyway. My antibiotics still had two days to go before I finished. The doctor had been strict about taking the pills on time, and until the last one was gone, or I could have a reoccurrence. Nope. Not happening. One bout of strep was more than enough and I never wanted to experience that kind of pain or sickness again.
I headed to the concession area inside the station and bought a bottle of Vitamin Water Orange-Orange. My favorite. I swallowed my horse pill and went back outside to where I’d left Ben and Filan.
I could see that our “ride” had found them while I was off. I guessed he must be the cousin, because he shook Ben’s hand before politely greeting Filan. He was tall like Hannah had mentioned, but I couldn’t tell about the “deadly handsome” part because his back was facing me as I walked toward them. His ass looked good in the jeans he was wearing. Um, yeah.
Ben saw me coming and held out his hand, urging me over. “Gaby, this is Ivan, Ethan’s cousin and best man for the wedding.”
I put a smile on my face in preparation of meeting my partner for the weekend. No need to be unfriendly. Hopefully he was as nice as he looked…
He started to turn toward me.
“Ivan, meet Gaby. Brynne’s maid-of-honour to your best man.”
I noticed the hair first. He had the kind of hair you remembered.
Then the shape of his chiseled jaw as he turned his head.
Finally, it was the eyes that verified things for me. Those arresting green eyes of his latched onto mine for the third time in my life.
No, it cannot be him. Ivan. Ivanhoe.
This just couldn’t be right.
But it was him. And Ivan was his name. A wave of desperation hit me as I remembered him telling me his full name. He’d introduced himself properly when we’d both made a second attempt at introductions before everything blew up. He’d turned to me in the front seat of his car and said, “Gabrielle Hargreave, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Ivan Everley, inheritor of all this…and of course, shuttle driver for lost American art students.”
Everything clicked into place in those long seconds as I froze in step on the train station platform. It all made sense now. Who he was. Why he’d attended the Mallerton Gala that night. How he had connections to Paul Langley and the university.
Brynne had wanted me to meet him. She’d tried to introduce us before her life was turned upside down with a surprise pregnancy and then the death of her father.
Why didn’t I figure this out before?
Ivan Everley was Ethan’s cousin who owned the houseful of paintings…
And I was so dreadfully screwed right now.
I lifted my chin and stood there, waiting to be called out by him, my proverbial neck stretched out on the chopping block ready for his axe.
But it didn’t happen like that.
No, instead he flashed me a smile that hit me right in the chest, and extended his hand.
“Gaby. So nice to finally meet you. E’s been telling me about you for weeks.”
I stared down at his hand and then looked up at his face again.
Smooth and calm, he kept with the devastating smile, hand still reaching out, waiting for me to take hold.
He’s pretending we’ve never met before.
My whole body seized into a state of paralysis.
Thank God he’s pretending we’ve never met before.
I just stood there like a mute, relief coursing through me in a torrent.
Ben cleared his throat and asked, “Are you all right, luv?”
Filan laid the back of her hand on my forehead to check if I was feverish and inquired, “Gabriellen?”
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, Gaby,” Ivan said softly, tilting his head at me in question. “I hope I haven’t frightened you.” His deep green eyes sparked in amusement, the color even more stunning in the full light of day.
“Ivan, h-h-hello,” I breathed, “n-no, you h-haven’t.” I put my hand into his and felt the heat of his skin as he shook it. More gibberish came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t say what exactly as I was having trouble controlling my breathing to speak any words at all.
Then he winked at me. And stroked his index finger along my palm as he pulled away.
A squeaky moan escaped my throat.
I could feel each of their eyes on me, probably wondering what in the hell kind of affliction had suddenly overtaken me. Ivan looked positively gleeful. Ass.
Filan broke the tension. “Our Gabriellen has been ill you know, Mr. Everley, and I think the train has exhausted her and she needs to rest in bed before rehearsal tonight.”
He gave an elegant bow of his head. “Of course she does, Mrs. Clarkson.” Then he moved beside me and pressed his hand to my back. “It sounds to me like you’re being put to bed, whether you need it or not, Gaby,” he said teasingly, before steering us toward a silver-blue Range Rover. He opened the front passenger side door for me and gestured with his other hand. “In you go.”
“Thanks,” I managed, unable to do anything other than follow his instructions.
While Ben loaded our luggage, Ivan settled me in and helped me with my seatbelt, the delicious scent of him invading my senses and bringing back memories I couldn’t afford to have banging around in my head again.
As he pulled back I swear he inhaled a breath and I felt the tips of his hair brush over the side of my jaw, making a tingle slide down my spine.
No way.
How in the hell would I survive the next three days with him?
I didn’t say anything as Ben and Filan chatted with Ivan on the drive. I observed and assessed, too shocked to join in. I needed a bit of time with this whole thing.
Ivan’s hands were beautiful just like the rest of him. There was an unusual tattoo on his right ring finger that I got quick glimpses of when we’d stop at a light and he’d release the hold on the steering wheel. From what I could tell, it looked like a heraldic crest. Then I remembered he was aristocracy. He’d corrected me when I’d said he was an earl and told me he was only a “lowly baron.” He didn’t seem to be worried about our meeting in the slightest. In fact, he looked supremely pleased with himself, and very amused by our situation.
The cocky grin on his face stayed there for the entire drive up to Hallborough.
Motherfucker-asshole-shithead-bastard.
IVAN
“Y eah, well, Elaina’s friend from France will be maid-of-honour now, and I need to add another groomsman to even out the couples. I know the wedding’s only six weeks out, but will you do it, mate?”
McManus was a good mate. I’d met him through E of course, but we’d logged some serious hours together over the years and I knew he was asking because he counted me as the same. I was happy for him and Elaina. Happy for Ethan and Brynne. Happy for my people who’d managed to find the one they couldn’t dream of living without.
If I was totally honest I could accept that the feeling had never been there for me. Not even with…her.
We all know she certainly didn’t feel it for me—
Neil interrupted my morose thoughts about my ex with something far more intriguing. “You’ve met Gaby, yeah? Elaina said she’d pair the two of you up together at ours. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and a complete darling. I’m sure the two of you will get on brilliantly.”
My head snapped up to meet his suggestive grin and my brain switched the fuck on.
“Right,” I said smoothly. “Gaby is lovely, I agree. I’ve only just met her a while ago when Hannah sent me down to the station to bring them up to the house.” It appeared that we were both lying about having met before. I had no problem with pretending if she didn’t.
“So, can I tell Elaina you’re on for it?” Neil asked hopefully.
“How can I say no to you, you romantic sod? I’d be honoured to stand up for you while you shackle yourself to your beloved.”
Neil clapped me on the back and thanked me enthusiastically while I did a silent fist pump in the air. Score one for me. He raised his Guinness to my Bombay & Schweppes in salute.
Fate could be a beautiful thing, I realized as I tapped drinks with my friend.
I’d found her again just like I’d hoped, even if I don’t think I could’ve been more surprised by the circumstances. My mysterious obsession was connected directly to my own flesh and blood. E and Brynne had both talked about Gaby to me. Both had expressed how much they wanted us to meet on more than one occasion.
Well we did, actually. And all on our own. And definitely not in the way you’d expect.
What were the odds?
I had her in my sights for the weekend, and would again in six weeks when Neil and Elaina tied the knot in Scotland. Oh, this was priceless.
Gaby. I rolled the name around in my mouth silently.
I liked the sound of Gabrielle more. It fit her exquisite beauty to perfection.
She was Gabrielle to me. Especially since I now understood that “Maria” was just a specter from a night when confusion and mistaken identity had ruled. I now had the real name for the real woman, and for some reason, it felt fucking victorious.
But I don’t think she was too happy about seeing me. She’d been so quiet on the drive up to the house, sitting stiffly in the seat within inches of me, breathing in soft deep pulls that made me want to feel them against my skin. Make that her skin on my skin. Naked.
Gabrielle Hargreave pushed all of my buttons, and in just the right way. I was pretty sure I pushed hers as well, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it just yet.
I would let her absorb the blow of finding out exactly how we fit into the other’s world for the moment. This whole thing was a shock, I’d agree with her on that point. But now with our little freak-out behind us, there was nothing for it but to go forward. I’d get her alone later on and tell her what I needed to say. And she would listen to me this time.
She didn’t have another option.
I grinned at Neil as he went off to get us another round of drinks. Gabrielle was firmly in my world now, and there would be no escape for her.
Not during the next three days at least.
Her arse. The skirt clinging to it. Her skirt was tight and black with colourful flowers wrapping around front to back. Looked very nice paired with her long legs and black heels. I’ve had my fingers up in between those lovely legs…
Yeah…I wished I was that skirt right now. I know she saw me pegging her the moment she came into the garden for rehearsal with the others, too, but she ignored me and turned away to talk to Brynne’s mum.
Which was how I got the chance to study her spectacular arse again. I hadn’t forgotten how nice it looked in jeans, either, from the night when she showed up to Donadea.
I’d take the view and bide my time. I can play nice when the occasion calls. Expert at faking, remember?
Gabrielle was expert at pretending we were strangers. So fucking sexy watching her play aloof. She’d been doing it steadily since our meeting at the station. Once we arrived at the house, there had been no chance to get her alone because guests were arriving in droves by that point. Brynne and Elaina had swept her away somewhere and I was left doing duty keeping my cousin from chain-smoking himself into an early grave with those goddamn Djarum Black coffin nails he was addicted to.
Neil and I decided that hiding his stash was for his own good. Tough love and all that crap.
“I need a fucking cigarette,” E complained beside me as the vicar droned on about the particulars.
I stared at him, pretty bloody sure he’d just read my mind, the clever bastard. “No time for that now, brother. Pay attention to the man or you won’t know what to do tomorrow afternoon.” I nodded toward the end of the path where his girl was waiting to walk down for this practice run-through.
His expression brightened as soon as Brynne came into view with Clarkson leading her. Christ, talk about a man so head-over-heels he didn’t know if he was coming or going. E still surprised me very much. I was happy for him, of course, but to see him like this was something that needed a little getting used to.
Clarkson was an interesting fellow as well. I knew he was a photographer and had been the one to take Brynne’s nude portraits. Well, the one E had purchased the night he’d met Brynne in London. Gabrielle and Clarkson seemed very close and I wondered what the story was there. He was gay, and Gabrielle, as far as I could tell, wasn’t. Had Clarkson taken pictures of Gabrielle as well? Flesh shots? I wanted them if they existed. There were so many unanswered questions I wanted to ask…
“Now the couples will exit behind the bride and groom with the best man leading our maid-of-honour,” the vicar announced.
Showtime.
I smiled at Gabrielle as I met her in the middle, holding out my arm.
She didn’t want to take my arm, but then she was without options. The whole effect got my cock twitching as I pulled her into my side and walked us out, not missing the fact that she fit perfectly against me.
“Finally,” I said, looking down at her.
“I’m sorry, did you say something?” She kept her eyes straight ahead.
“We need to have an adult conversation, Gabrielle, don’t you think?”
“Oh, you want to act like an adult now?”
“Mmm hmm, I do.”
“So you must’ve given up on the idea that I’m Maria-the-Escort you paid to service you. That had to have been a devastating blow for you, Ivan.”
I caught her sexual innuendo and imagined exactly what she could blow.
“It does seem the logical conclusion. Didn’t Sherlock Holmes say something like once you eliminate the impossible—”
“—whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” She finally looked up at me as she finished the quote.
God, she was lovely, and I so wanted her in my bed all fiery and wild as I took control of her pleasure again. Even if she wasn’t ready for that yet, I still fantasized.
“Conan-Doyle fan?”
“I know my Sherlock Holmes. I read the whole volume in college. Checked it out at the library and dragged it to the beach with me all summer.”
“And where was this?”
“University of California at Santa Barbara.”
“A very beautiful coastline you have in your home state.”
She didn’t respond, and I knew exactly what she was doing. Trying to reassert control over our conversation by withholding her participation, and regretting she’d told me anything at all. I knew all the tricks.
I led her to our dinner table and seated her, resting my hands on her shoulders and holding them there for a moment longer than necessary. I couldn’t help it. I had to have my hands on her again.
She took her seat stiffly, probably trying to figure how she could get away from me, but I wasn’t having it. She was mine for the course of this meal and hopefully afterward. One small victory at a time.
“Eat your soup, Miss Hargreave, you’re not going anywhere for a while.” I winked.
She glared at me and then took a bite of what I guessed was a corn bisque of some sort. Watching her take a spoonful and then swallow, her elegant neck moving in reflex was quite the show. I waited for her to hit me back with something cheeky but she stayed quiet and took another spoonful of the soup.
“I phoned you and sent texts,” I said softly.
She kept her head down. “I wouldn’t know because I’ve been off the grid leading up to this wedding.”
“I was very sorry to hear you were ill.”
Finally she gave me her gorgeous face again. The words were sarcastic as hell, but at least I got to look at her.
“Yeah. I had to go to Ireland for this horrible job. Worst assignment ever. I got lost in a frightening storm and thought I was going to die. And then…once I made it to shelter, my boss was an asshole of such epic proportions my body just succumbed, I guess. He couldn’t decide if he wanted me to stay or go, and I think, was suffering from a case of insanity.” She pretended to ponder by tilting her head and nodding. “Yeah, completely insane I’m sure of it, poor man.” Another spoonful of soup. “I had to drive away from his estate with a raging fever the next morning, but I escaped with the help of a kindly servant.” She stonefaced me. “Mr. Finnegan was his name and I’ll never forget him. The insane boss? I’m trying to forget I ever met him.” She took a healthy swig of her drink and sighed dramatically. “It’s been really difficult for me because he keeps showing up in the same places as me.”
Ouch.
I shook my head. “I want you to know I feel really badly about that. About all of it. The part about making you wait in the storm, being an arsehole, about scaring you, and most of all, for not being the one to take care of you when you were ill.”
“Why?”
“I’m not a monster, Gabrielle. I hate that you felt the need to flee my home, and me, when you had a fever. You could have crashed your car and been killed on the road.” If she only knew how much the thought of anyone being hurt as a result of my actions really bothered me.
She lowered her voice. “No, I mean why didn’t you let on to the others that we’d met before?”
“It seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“Ha,” she scoffed. “You, a gentleman? That’s a stretch, don’t you think?”
“Probably, but for you I’ll make an exception.”
She frowned, biting one corner of her luscious bottom lip. I wanted to lick it.
“I think you’re beautiful.”
Her gaze flickered over my face and I think, my hair, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to wonder if she liked what she saw. I could tell she did.
“I tried to apologize to you by phone. Several times. If Langley had given me your address it would have been in person.”
“I told you I was sick,” she snapped.
“Yes…and now you’re better.”
She glared at me and drank more of her blueberry mojito. I wanted to stick my tongue in her mouth and taste the lingering flavors.
“And there’s something else you need to know,” I told her.
“You flunked out of Being a Human 101 but aced Assholery III?” The sarcastic sneer on her lovely lips was sexy as fuck and I couldn’t help laughing at the witty comeback.
“You’re coming back with me to Donadea after this wedding, Miss Hargreave.”
“It’ll never happen, Mr. Ever—” She lost the rest of my name in mid-speech and swallowed hard.
My cock liked that. A lot.
“I love to hear you address me as mister,” I said, “and we’ll work all that out later, lovely thing.”
My inner Dom was switched on instantly and ready to go off somewhere private with the submissive goddess in Miss Hargreave and take things to the next level.
But she wasn’t ready yet, and I had more work to do first.
She looked like she was about to bolt.
“There isn’t going to be a later.”
“Oh, there will be, I promise you,” I said, looking right at her mouth. “I can see you’re just as affected, sweetheart. There’s nothing to be ashamed of admitting to your desires. It’s totally normal and you should stop fighting…this,” I said, waving my hand back and forth between us.
She shook her head at me and tossed her napkin down onto the table. “I’m not—you’re mistaken about what you’re thinking I want from you.”
“And you’re one terrible liar, Gabrielle.” I lowered my voice so nobody could hear. “I have a really good memory, and I remember how you were that night in that room. With me.” I nodded slowly.
“No…please don’t.” Her breath was coming fast and she kept shaking her head in denial, the soft ends of her mahogany hair just brushing the tops of her breasts as they rose and fell from the heavy breathing pouring from her.
I didn’t let up. “How you flew apart when I made you come, the sounds you made in my mouth, my fingers tight inside you…how your tongue felt wrapped around my cock.”
“Stop!” she hissed, standing up and bringing a hand to her forehead. “I have a migraine and I need to go,” she blurted before leaving the table, gaining her a few looks from the others seated around us.
“Feel better, Gaby,” I called after her. All for show. “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”
She didn’t turn around.
The view of her arse in that tight skirt from behind was still magnificent, and I enjoyed it thoroughly as she walked away.
I know the signs of passion in a woman’s body. The flushed skin. The faltering speech. The breathing that begins in deep pulls and makes her tits heave deliciously. The guarded posture of trying to remain aloof, but knowing she’s failing miserably.
My lovely obsession—the delicious Miss Gabrielle Hargreave—had every one of those signs. And I’d wager, probably an added ache up in between her thighs.
I can fix that ache for you, Gabrielle.
I’d gotten the first thing right with her tonight.
Finally.
A lethal crack in that hard shell she owned.
And for the first time in a very long while, I could say that I felt really goddamn…happy for once.
