Reckless in Paradise (4 page)

He was closer, his hand at her neck, drawing her towards him, towards his mouth. ‘What would your answer be?'

There was a point to all this, she recognised that much, if only she could tell what it was. But in air spiced with his musky, masculine scent she couldn't make sense of what he was asking, only on some fundamental level that it shouldn't be happening. She held onto the thread of logic, clung to it, even when his lips brushed over hers and then returned for another pass just as feather-light as the first. Just as earth shattering.

She trembled under the silken assault, her knees almost buckling beneath her as he drew her closer until her folded arms met his chest, the folded arms protecting the folder she clung to like a shield, reminding her why she was here.

And it wasn't to allow herself to be seduced by the man who opposed his sister's marriage! She freed one hand and pushed against the hard wall of his chest, trying not to think about how good his hard flesh felt under her fingers even as the fingers deep in her hair attempted to steer her still closer.

Sophie turned her head aside, felt the brush of his warm breath on her cheek this time. ‘Mr Caruana,' she pleaded, needing the formality to put distance between them. ‘This is ridiculous. We barely know each other.'

His hands were gone from her as he wheeled away and cold air rushed to fill the places he'd been. ‘Exactly my point,' he said, sounding angry, his back to her as he gazed out at the view, raking the fingers of both hands through his hair. ‘We hardly know each other. And yet you seem to think it's perfectly reasonable for my sister to marry someone she's known barely a month.'

‘So maybe Jake didn't maul her the first time they met.'

His shoulders stiffened before he turned and already she regretted her hasty words, even before she'd seen the potent depths of his eyes. ‘Believe me, if I'd have mauled you I would have left the marks to prove it.'

A quake shuddered through her bones and she had to muster every last crumb of control she could to hide it. He'd touched her with a caress as soft as silk, and that had been enough to leave its mark, so how much more delicious would it be to feel the full brunt of his passion?

Oh yes, she believed him. Which was why now, more than ever, she had to get out of here. She was supposed to be a professional wedding planner, and professionals didn't get involved with family members of people whose weddings they were arranging, even when the groom was your brother.
Especially
when the groom was your brother. ‘Like I said, I have to go.'

Yes; the sooner she went, the better. Her colour was high, her hair was mussed where he'd pushed his fingers in the thick coil and her eyes were wide and watchful, like she was afraid he'd kiss her again. The chances were, if she kept looking at him that way, he just might.

Why had he done that? He'd wanted to prove a point, to make her see how ridiculous it was for anyone to make the momentous step of getting married when they barely knew
each other. Instead he'd got lost somewhere along the line, somewhere between the sensual curve of her cheek and the warm scent of woman.

‘The car's waiting downstairs to take you to the airport.'

She nodded, leaning to gather her portfolio and briefcase without taking her eyes from him, as if to check he wasn't about to ambush her again. Then she straightened and headed for the door.

Halfway there, she stopped and turned. ‘I feel sorry for you—I really do. But I feel sorrier for Monica, who thinks the sun shines out of her big brother. Who believes you love her and that you'll come round to her plans for marriage, when all you're really interested in is keeping her locked away from the world in some kind of gilded cage.'

‘I want what's best for her.'

‘No, you don't. You want what's best for
you.
What's easiest. You actually don't care about Monica's happiness at all. Well, all I can say is it's lucky she found someone like Jake at last, someone with a bit of backbone who can stand up to her overbearing, bullying brother. God knows, he'll need it.'

Her words rubbed him raw, her arguments playing on his mind. Once again she was defending the indefensible. Once again she was acting as if Fletcher were the injured party in all this. Fletcher was supposed to be her client but, the way she came out fighting every time he mentioned his name, anyone would think she was in love with him herself.

She was already reaching for the door handle when he found the words to respond. ‘You don't know the first thing about Fletcher. Why do you insist on defending him the way you do?'

Her hand stilled on the handle. He saw her shoulders rise and fall on a sigh before she glanced over at him even as she pulled open the door. ‘Why wouldn't I defend Jake? After all, he is my brother.'

F
LETCHER
was her brother? She'd pulled the door closed behind her and disappeared before he could react, but it was shock that kept him rooted to the spot. Fletcher didn't have any sister, not that he could recall. He'd certainly never mentioned one in all their years at college, not that they'd ever spent any time in idle chit-chat. Daniel had always been too busy facing up to the brash challenger who'd insisted he was as good, if not better, than him, Fletcher trying to prove it at every opportunity. Besides, she'd said her name was Turner—or was that just part of the ruse?

Nothing made sense.

Nothing but knowing that he should have handled the meeting with her a whole lot better. He would have, if he hadn't been thrown off balance completely this morning by his sister's email.

And now the mess he'd made of the meeting had grown a hundred times worse. Because Sophie Turner wasn't simply a wedding planner, as he'd believed. She was Fletcher's sister.

She should have told him. He glanced out of the windows in the direction of the street, caught a glimpse of the car as it pulled into the traffic before it was lost from view and swore under his breath.

But of course she hadn't told him. She was probably in on the deal, no wedding planner at all but rather a convenient intermediary, no doubt expecting a cut for her part in playing a role and making the marriage plans look real. She'd probably be calling Fletcher already, telling him to expect an offer, advising him to hang out for a better one.

Or would Monica and Fletcher still be on their flight?

Maybe there was still time.

He snatched up the phone on his desk and punched in a number that would connect him with his head of security. It answered on the second ring, as he knew it would. ‘Jo? Caruana here. I want you to find out all you can about a wedding-planning business called One Perfect Day, and a Miss Sophie Turner who supposedly works there. I want financials, personal contacts and history, as well as details of family members of every employee, as fast as you can.'

‘Will do,' came the rapid-fire response. Then a pause. ‘Do I take it congratulations are in order?'

From anyone else the question would not have been tolerated, but Jo had been with him almost from the beginning, their association going back to their high-school days together.

‘I'm not. But Jake Fletcher's apparently got his hooks into Monica. They're talking weddings, and Sophie Turner claims to be their wedding planner.'

‘Fletcher's back?' Daniel heard the squeak of his security head's chair as he sat to attention. ‘You want me to sort him out, boss?'

Daniel had anticipated just such a reaction. Jo hated Fletcher almost as much as Daniel himself did. But then Jo was the one who'd been waiting at the airport when Daniel had returned from Italy in time for Emma's funeral. He was the one who'd kept him together when they'd learned the
results of the autopsy. And he was the one who'd stopped him marching into Fletcher's hospital ward and pulling him off his life support.

He appreciated the loyalty, but while once upon a time he'd have settled contests with his fists, those days were gone. These days he preferred to use subtler, even if more expensive, means. Not that he couldn't afford it.

‘He's already flown the coop and taken Monica to Hawaii—and left the wedding planner to convince me the wedding's kosher, no doubt to secure a higher settlement.'

‘Like hell it's kosher! Okay, boss, I'm onto it.'

‘And Jo—something else you should know.'

‘What's that?'

‘The wedding planner, Sophie Turner, she's claiming to be Fletcher's sister.'

Jo whistled through his teeth. ‘I never knew Fletcher had a sister.'

‘Neither did I. That's one of the things I want you to check. If she's not his sister, she's probably in on some kind of percentage from a settlement to make him disappear. And if she is his sister…'

‘Given her scum dog of a brother, she'd be even less trustworthy.'

‘Exactly what I was thinking,' Daniel agreed before he hung up, still leaning over his desk, hauling air into his lungs as his brain made the connections. Fletcher had to have taken Monica to Hawaii for two reasons—first, to ensure nobody could arrive in Brisbane while Fletcher wasn't around and bundle her on the next flight back to Cairns to talk her out of making the biggest mistake of her life, and secondly to suck her further and further into his web.

Meanwhile the sweet Miss Turner had the job of playing the supporting role at home to make it look like the wedding was real, no doubt in the hope it would crank up any pay-off offered to Fletcher.

He growled. If she'd been speaking the truth, then he'd had Fletcher's sister right here in his office and he'd let her walk away. God, he'd even held her in his arms and all but kissed her. Fletcher's damned sister. What had he been thinking?

But he hadn't been thinking then, not beyond the silky-smooth perfection of her skin, the unusual blue of her eyes, and the tantalising scent of woman.

So much for wanting to make a point about the irrationality of things happening too quickly. If she hadn't stopped him, if she hadn't pushed him away, he doubted he could have stopped himself.

Not the point he'd been trying to make at all. But Monica's news had thrown him for six. No wonder he hadn't been thinking straight.

But he was thinking straight now.

The old and familiar competitiveness cranked back into life. Fletcher would soon be sitting in his five-star hotel suite waiting to hear from his sister about Daniel's reaction, rubbing his hands together in glee while he waited for a nice plump offer for him to disappear to drop into his lap.

The last thing he'd be expecting would be for Daniel to join in the game. If Fletcher wanted to play ‘whisk away the sister', why couldn't Daniel do likewise?

Maybe he should just
whisk away
one Miss Sophie Turner for however long it took.

And he sure as hell wouldn't let her go again until he knew Moni was safe.

He glanced at his watch. They should be nearing the airport by now. Miss Turner would be thinking she was just about home free.

He picked up the telephone again, punching in another number and smiling for what felt like the first time today, already anticipating her confusion. ‘Cedric, there's been a change of plans…'

 

Sophie pushed back into the butter-soft upholstery, willing herself to relax. She'd almost turned her back on the car waiting for her when she'd emerged from the lobby. She'd had enough of Daniel Caruana for one day, and she'd wanted nothing more to do with him and his. But the driver had greeted her with a friendly smile and, much as she resented his boss, she'd had no reason to be rude to an innocent driver—especially one who was probably smiling in relief because it wasn't Mr Arrogance himself that he was picking up. Besides, she'd had no idea how long it would take to wait for a taxi this far north of Cairns, and the sooner she made it to the airport, the better chance she would have of catching an earlier flight back to Brisbane.

So she'd allowed herself to be handed into the spacious interior of the luxury sedan, satisfied at least that every minute took her another kilometre from Daniel Caruana.

She sighed and dropped her head back against the head rest, closing her eyes and wondering what she was going to tell Jake and Monica. They'd expected resistance to the wedding news, certainly, but Daniel hadn't even given her a chance to explain the wedding arrangements and the fact that nobody was expecting him to pay for anything. Not that he would have believed her, given he'd already made his mind up on that point.

Apparently nobody went out with his sister unless they were gold-digging fortune-hunters looking for nothing more than a juicy pay-out. And of course he wouldn't care who was supposed to stump up for the wedding bills. Hadn't he already made it plain that there was to
be
no wedding?

Sophie put a hand to her forehead, her fingers trying to stroke away her tension as the car continued down the palm-lined highway towards the city of Cairns and the airport that promised escape. How on earth had Jake ever thought she'd be able to convince someone like Daniel Caruana that this wedding was a good idea? And how was she going to tell him that she'd blown her peace-keeping role big time?

She opened her eyes in time to see the sign signalling the turn off for James Cook Airport. She sighed in relief. At least she'd soon be away from here. Away from Daniel Caruana, the man who could be her brother-in-law.

The man who had almost kissed her…

She jammed her eyes shut, trying to blot away the memories, but she could still feel the brush of his lips, could still smell his intoxicating, masculine scent weaving its way into her senses as his fingers worked their way into her hair and directed her face towards his.

When he'd told her that if he had mauled her she'd have the marks to prove it… Oh my. Sophie dragged in a lungful of air, hot and breathless, the car's air conditioning was suddenly found wanting. Thank goodness she'd found the sense to turn away before she made more of a fool of herself than she already had.

What was his point? Had he been trying to convince her he was the red-hot lover the tabloids hinted at? Or had he just been toying with her, like some random plaything, before throwing her out?

Either way, the man clearly had no conscience. She was glad she'd have nothing more to do with him. At least not until the wedding—if he even bothered to show up.

Then she smiled. If there had been one glimmer of satisfaction she could take from this morning's meeting, it had been the moment before she'd left, when she'd finally had the opportunity to tell him she was Jake's sister. In the scant
seconds after her revelation, and before she'd pulled the door closed behind her, she'd seen his look of smug dismissal give way to shock and a kind of numb disbelief.

So maybe she hadn't managed to convince Mr Hot Shot Caruana to give his blessing to his sister's upcoming wedding—and maybe she'd blown her role as peace maker—but at least she'd managed to get the last word in. How fortunate it was that he hadn't allowed her to get a word in edgeways so she could save that little gem until last. That part of the meeting, at least, had been infinitely satisfying.

Sophie looked up, thinking for a moment that the driver had said something to her, only to find him talking into his hands-free phone. She looked around. They were in the departure lane, slowing as they neared the drop-off zone with the maze of vehicles pulling in and out along the kerb before them. She strung her briefcase strap over her shoulder, her hand ready on the door release so that she could quickly alight. Except the driver didn't pull in to stop like she'd expected but kept on driving.

‘There's a spot just there,' she called, pointing to her left, wondering what was wrong with the last two spaces he'd driven past.

‘Sorry, miss,' the driver said, glancing at her in his rearview mirror. ‘Change of plans.'

‘No, I have a flight to catch.' She looked over her shoulder as the airport buildings and her escape plans disappeared behind, the first frisson of fear slipping down her spine and taking root in her gut.

She turned back in time to catch the driver's shrug as he accelerated back along the airport exit-road. ‘Didn't Mr Caruana tell you? Apparently now you're going by chopper.'

‘What? No.' Fear turned to anger as she reached for her PDA and found his number. ‘No, Mr Caruana didn't tell me that.'

Mr Caruana still wasn't telling her anything. The young PA told her he was unavailable and couldn't be reached—perhaps she'd like to leave a message?

No, Sophie decided, breaking the connection. What she had to say to Mr Caruana was best said face to face. No matter what stunt he was pulling now, she'd make sure there'd be ample opportunity for that sometime.

She called her office in Brisbane, something she'd been intending to do once she'd confirmed her flight.

‘Meg,' she said as soon as her assistant answered. ‘It's Sophie.'

‘How did the meeting go?'

Sophie pulled a face. ‘Not as well as it could have. I think Monica might be walking down the aisle by herself.'

‘Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. But at least you tried. What time will you be back?'

Good question
, Sophie thought, biting her lip as she watched the passing parade of palm trees lining the wide highway, heading the wrong way, wondering if she should let Meg know what was happening. But what
was
happening? It wasn't like she was being kidnapped. Not exactly. She still had her phone, after all. It wasn't as if she couldn't call for help if she thought she needed it. But that still didn't mean she was happy about her plans being turned upside down for no good reason and without explanation. ‘I'm not sure,' she said, and at least that much was true. ‘It looks like I might be delayed. I'll let you know as soon as I can.'

‘Okay. I'll hold the fort until you get back. Oh, and don't forget, you have that meeting at the Tropical Palms first thing tomorrow to finalise the arrangements.'

‘Don't worry, Meg.' Whatever surprises Daniel Caruana had planned, she'd be back in Brisbane long before then. ‘There's no way I'd miss that. See you soon.'

She snapped her phone shut and looked around. Here the rainforest covered mountains rose sharply from the narrowing coastal plain, and she realised she was almost back at the Palm Cove turn off and the office she'd left barely forty minutes ago. What the hell was he playing at? Surely he didn't feel so bad about the way he'd behaved during their meeting that he was going to make up for it by having her flown all the way to Brisbane in his private helicopter? She swallowed. As much as she wanted to get back to the office, she wasn't sure she was too crazy at the idea of spending two hours or so in one of those tiny buzz boxes.