When Honey Got Married (7 page)

Stirred by the seductive smolder of his smiling gaze, a sizzle seared right through her flesh. She didn’t doubt the truth of his claim for a second.

It was so disorienting.
Brent
was her focus.
Brent
was where her loyalty lay, or wanted to lie. Wanted to lie down and mate with its beloved, soul to soul. She shouldn’t allow Rainer Delacroix’s incredible sexual magnetism to distract her from her true affections and her last chance for happiness.

She glanced across the room and saw Honey clinging to Brent. Literally clamped to his arm, as though fearful he would escape. She could hardly blame Honey for that. Poor Honey no doubt knew something was missing. But what about poor
Brent
? Condemned to a loveless marriage. And what for? Oh, for sure, they looked good together. Their families were in the same social stratum. Was that why Brent was going along with it? Emotionally blackmailed into perpetuating his parents’ social expectations?

While all the time the true love who could save him was sitting right here struggling to resist the enchanting wiles of a wicked snake charmer.

It was a worse mess than a Tennessee Williams family Christmas.

“I can see you’re cynical about the meaning of Brent’s and my—my exchange,” she said breathlessly to Rainer. “You’re trying to read more into it than existed.”

“Not at all. Brent had the hots for his secretary, then realized she was way too much woman for him to handle. While
you
—”

“No,
no
,” she almost moaned. “That isn’t true.”

He continued inexorably, “—
you
were ‘in lurve.’” He did that cynical thing people did with their fingers to imply quotation marks.

Such contempt for true and honest feelings went hard with her.

“Why do I think that’s a concept you wouldn’t understand, Rainer?” she said tartly, dragging her eyes away from the fascinating muscles disturbing his pants fabric. “Anyway, you’re wrong. I
liked
him, is all. We clicked—at a professional level. It wasn’t until after the Dallas…
incident
that my feelings—” She dropped her eyes. “That I
realized
I had…deeper feelings.” She kept her gaze lowered. “There. I’ve admitted it. I hope you’re satisfied. Mock me if you like.”

“I don’t want to mock you, Eve.” She glanced up and met eyes shimmering with all the sincerity of Lucifer’s. “Hell no.
Mocking
is not what I have in mind. I’d just like to help you deal with this painful occasion.”

“I can imagine.”

His eyes softened, and his sensuous lips crushed each other in a show of rueful remorse. “Eve. Do you think I
like
seeing a lovely woman in distress? Those big velvet eyes filled with pain? I’m the first to admit I’m no hero. But I am human.” He set down his glass and placed his hand over his heart. “Helping you through this painful time would bring me pleasure.”

Eve wished with sudden fervor she could believe him. She had never talked to a man like this, sharing her heart’s secrets. Somehow Rainer had unlocked this sad little piece of her history with no trouble, very little pain, and really quite a deal of pleasantness. How wonderful it would be to know a sexy man she could talk to.

Though if he had any kind of a heart, why would that Dixon woman have jumped off the bridge? Regretfully, she realized she was probably just being duped by his charm.

She sighed. “I hope you’re not just blowing smoke up my skirt, Rainer. But fine. If indeed you’d like to help, maybe you wouldn’t mind distracting Honey a brief while? Take her aside so I can find a way to have a private word with Brent?” Drawing a light fingertip along the back of his lean hand, she felt a startling leap in Rainer’s skin. Unexpectedly, an electric thrill zinged through her bloodstream. She withdrew her hand at once, but the zing continued its burn. “Just—just for a few minutes. I think it’s best not to worry Honey with seeing Brent and me together. ”

He shook his head, frowning, though something like that zing was in his eyes. “That doesn’t sound like such a good idea.”

“I thought you said you wanted to help?”

“That wasn’t the help I was visualizing.
That
sounds like trouble.”

“
Trouble
. Oh, I see.” She dropped her lashes and gave a sad little laugh. “Though…I don’t really. I just need to set the record straight with my old boss, is all. Wish him well, face-to-face. Then I can—we
all
can move on.” She lowered her voice so Rainer would be forced to keep close and inhale more of her Sin. “It’s Brent I’m thinking of. I know he has questions, and tonight feels like a better time to round things off than tomorrow. Don’t you want your cousin to be happy and at peace with himself on his wedding day?”

She laid her hand on his sinewy wrist where a few wisps of black hair curled from his cuff. His skin felt amazingly warm under her fingers. Vibrant, as if a high voltage electric current was humming through his bronzed flesh. Her glance was drawn irresistibly to his mouth for one breathless moment, then her gaze clashed with his.

Those silvery eyes blazed so hot she had the thrilling sensation she was being showered in sparks. When he spoke, his voice was deeper than a Gulf oil gusher. “I believe I would require some sort of security before I could risk letting you loose on Brent.”

She blinked. “Sorry?”

“You’re just too enticing, Eve. That face, that mouth, that body.” A smile curled his lips. “Whatever story you tell, I can’t help reading bad mischief in those lovely eyes. So sure, I’ll take care of Honey for you. But in return, you have to kiss me.”

“I beg your pardon?” She felt a wild surge of exhilaration, to tell the whole truth. But noticing a few heads turn her way she lowered her voice to a chill whisper. “Are you crazy?”

“And not just any little kiss, either,” he insisted, ignoring her hauteur. “Forget about egrets. I’m not interested in an esteem kiss. I want the hottest you’ve got.”

“What you’ve
got
is no chance.” She slid off her chair. Dusted her hands. “I don’t kiss heartless, conniving rogues.”

He laughed with frank amusement. “There may be some irony in that statement, Eve. But that’s my price. Take it or leave it. Oh, and I want my security up front.”

Chapter Three

Strangely, in all the excitement, Eve had barely noticed the hush of expectation in the room. Festivities were about to get under way.

She left Rainer and his outrageous propositions behind, and strolled across the dance floor to join Minna, hardly knowing whether to be furious at the sensation of Rainer’s hot gaze scorching a sensual path down her back, or to rejoice in it.

Minna turned to greet her, one brow slightly lifted, a wry expression on her mouth.

Seemed it was showtime. Robert and Marie Delacroix were up on the band dais, standing beneath a banner emblazoned with the heraldic coats of arms of the ancient tribes of Delacroix and Moreau. Eve didn’t need to look at Minna to know how she was taking
that
. She gave the poor darling’s hand a squeeze.

“Don’t worry, Auntie,” she whispered. “You can buy those old things anywhere. Anyway, ours is prettier.”

Brent’s daddy, splendid in his evening suit, launched into his welcome.

“Friends and neighbors, tomorrow you will all be present to help us celebrate one of the happiest days in the Delacroix family history. Marie and I are proud to welcome…”

Brent and Honey stood to one side, still locked in their double act, beaming and modestly disclaiming the beautiful things being said about them, although once or twice Eve caught Honey darting an anxious glance through the assembled guests. Anyone would have thought the bride was nerve-racked with some sort of guilt issue.

As well she might
.

Eve tried to concentrate, but the truth was her brain was totally fixated on the Rainer proposition. The sheer diabolical nerve of the guy. Could he have any idea of how inappropriate it would be of her to kiss him? Now?
Here
? After she’d spent an entire year playing Sister Maria for real, crying into her pillow and turning down anything resembling a date out of mourning for Brent?

And just where did Rainer think such an event could take place? The veranda? Not very likely. No doubt there was a multitude of private corners, storage rooms, and closets within the club, but Eve had no idea of the layout. She wondered if Rainer knew of any useful nooks or crannies.

She looked around for the audacious guy and located him on the fringes of the crowd, leaning against a pillar, frowning, a slightly sardonic downturn at one corner of his gorgeous mouth. What was eating him, anyway? With his record of driving women to suicide, who was he to scorn people who fell in love and wanted to get married?

Old Man Delacroix spread his arms. “We hope y’all will mingle, meet the two beautiful families, and join with us in…” Every so often his beaming wife gave the old boy a prod to help him along. “…our heartfelt wish to embrace y’all with our version of cheer and the finest Louisiana cuisine. Please lift your glasses…”

There were toasts and good wishes to Honey and Brent, more toasts to their parents, grandparents, and great-great-grandparents. In typical Delacroix overkill, and blind insensitivity to the presence of Fortescues in the room, they had the nerve to toast all the way back to Joshua Jeb Delacroix, the lying, conniving old cardsharp who’d cheated Andrew Fortescue out of Belles Fleurs, the local plantation where the wedding was to be performed, and which had originally been the
Fortescue
farm.

Poor Minna’s back was as stiff as a poker.

At last the orgy of self-congratulation trickled to a close and guests were invited to dine.

In accordance with the elaborate seating plan, Eve and Minna found their places opposite each other at one long table.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Minna whispered, preparing to embark on her appetizer. “Any more of that Delacroix and Moreau hogwash and I wouldn’t be able to manage a single shrimp.” She leaned across the flower arrangement, pinning Eve with a stern eye. “What is this fixation you have with the Delacroix men?” Her fierce whisper reverberated the length of the table. “That Rainer may be a fine-lookin’ hunk of man, but don’t forget he’s a Delacroix down to his satin-embroidered Y-fronts.”

Cringing, Eve considered sliding under the table. “Shh, Auntie.
Please
. ”

It was a relief when Minna turned her attention to the steaming bowl her neighbor had brought back from the buffet. “Is that blue crab gumbo you’ve got there, Lady?”

“I’ll get you some,” Eve said hurriedly.

She rose and sashayed gracefully to the buffet, taking care to allow her hips the subtle swing that appeared entirely unconscious. Just in case Rainer—
strike that
—What could she have been thinking?—Brent might be watching.

Predictably, there was a queue for the gumbo. By the time it was Eve’s turn, the tureen was scraped bare. The attendant had to scurry back to the kitchen for a fresh pot.

“I’m glad to see you lining up for some nourishing soup,” a deep voice murmured from somewhere in the vicinity. Her nerves jumped, while every wayward cell in her body trilled a welcome song. Rainer was standing a dish or two away, helping himself to some Cajun crawfish. Without turning his head, he added, “I’d hate to see that gorgeous body lose condition.”

Noticing Opaline Dixon lurking by the vinegar selection, Eve addressed her reply to the tablecloth. “The soup isn’t for me,” she murmured. “It’s for my aunt. She needs strength, surrounded as she is by Delacroixes.”

“If you ask me, it’s the Delacroixes who need protection from the Fortescues.”

“Not all of them. Only the hot ones.”

She caught a glimpse of his smile, just edging up his mouth, and it gave her quite a buzz, to be honest. He must have guessed he was übersexy. What man didn’t know?

The attendant returned with another steaming tureen, then ladled a fragrant helping of gumbo into a bowl for Eve. “May I carry this to your place for you, Miss Fortescue?” he inquired.

“Thank you kindly.” Smiling, Eve pointed out Minna, who was waving a shrimp-laden fork at her neighbor. Eve took up a plate for herself.

Without her noticing, Rainer had edged closer. So close that if she didn’t take care, he might graze her hip. “Can I help you to some salad, Eve?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “Some lavender-roasted lamb? Some Great Louisiana Egret?”

“Very funny. Do you have to mock everything?”

“’Fraid I do.”

“Is there nothing you take seriously?”

“Sex, death, and damnation.”

“Very amusing.” She swept down her lashes, but her annoyance was pretend, and he seemed to know that. “Maybe you should taste some of these bayou oysters.”

“I want to taste
you
, Eve.” The quiet words set the blood frothing in her veins like lemonade. “See that blue door?” His eyes, gleaming, determined, held hers for a heart-stopping instant. “Ten minutes from now.”

Her pulse bumped into a giddy, excited beat. “You know what I said.”

“Nine minutes, forty seconds.”

“You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Sure I am.” Smiling, he turned and strolled away.

Rainer Delacroix was in no way shy. Eve had to admit there was something appealing about such self-assurance in a man. She was distractedly piling her plate with Lord knew what, when Opaline Dixon sidled up, smiling, though her eyes were narrowed.

“Did you and Rainer meet in New York, Eve?”

Eve showed her her dimples. “No, Mrs. Dixon. I’ve never had that pleasure until this evening.”

Opaline tittered. “Pleasure, is it? You should take care, Eve. Some folk aren’t what they seem. Since you’ve never had the benefit of a mother to raise you, I hope you don’t mind if I offer you some advice. I’ve always warned my girls not to be too friendly on first acquaintance. Would I be right in guessing you haven’t heard the stories about that man?”

Opaline was giraffe-like in stature, but Eve had the benefit of five-inch heels. She smiled. “See, Mrs. Dixon. I have had the very great benefit of my auntie to raise me. And she always says too much guessing can be a dangerous thing. It can give rise to false and vexatious rumors. Can I help you to some of this lovely red jambalaya, ma’am?”

Minna would have been proud.

Returning to her place, Eve scanned for Rainer and located him in the next row. He was nodding gravely, listening with close attention to the detailed autobiographies of a couple of ancient Moreau great-aunts.

He only glanced away from them one time, and when he did he looked straight at Eve. An electric shock frizzled across the room and seared right through her ovaries with a power that was undeniably erotic.

But how could she possibly kiss him when her entire focus was on Brent? She glanced about for Brent and saw him surrounded by Dixons—Honey’s cousins on either side, Opaline now opposite, thumping the table with her middle finger, laying down the law about something.

Poor Brent was wearing a similar expression to the Great Egret’s during hunting season. Eve frowned. What was wrong with the boy? Couldn’t he see what a disaster he was making of his life? If no one intervened to save him, he would be surrounded by Dixons forever more.

Too wound up to eat, she merely toyed with her food. Honey was at the other end of the table, mingling with a bunch of Delacroix cousins and aunts. Honey was getting the best of the deal, though she didn’t seem to know it, judging by her expression.

It was clear to Eve the only thing she could do for Brent, the kindest thing, was to give him an option. And the only way to achieve her moment for that, was to kiss Rainer. It was a shocking dilemma, but as Eve saw it, she had no other choice.

It would only be a kiss, after all. Kisses were pleasant enough at the time, but hardly bone-shaking events. It was only afterward, when the imagination started working, that a kiss was really worth relishing.

Like the one she’d shared with Brent.

Washing down a delicate bite of her trout meunière with a sip of wine, she waited until there was a stream of people heading back to the buffet, then leaned forward to Aunt Minna. “Will you excuse me, Auntie?”

She may not have developed enough emotional complexity to impress the Village Players, but at least she’d learned how to make a seamless exit. Silently, considering her heart was hammering so loud, she rose and lost herself in the crowd thronging around the desserts. While people salivated over the sugary delights, she melted away toward the blue door and slipped inside.

She found herself in a long corridor leading to some offices, with several small rooms along the way. Her blood was seething with nervous excitement. She was standing still, wondering which way to go, when the blue door opened behind her and Rainer appeared.

His big, powerful form momentarily blocked the light. But then he moved closer, and she could see that his eyes were smoldering. He seemed bigger in here. All at once she felt her insides turn over with a purely sexual anticipation. He was so magnetically mesmerizing, adrenaline charged her blood. Desire rustled the air.

Silently, he opened a door to her right and ushered her inside. The room was a small pleasant office, with a desk and chair in front of a window curtained in lace. A leather chesterfield hugged the opposite wall. Rainer strode straight to the window and closed the blinds, then lowered the shade of the lamp to soften the light.

Then he turned to her.

His voice was as deep and purry as a panther’s. “You may just be the most seductive woman I ever met.”

With the room pulsing with sexual possibilities, Eve trembled, her heart pounding. As Rainer stood facing her, so straight and gorgeous and mysterious, she felt a hot wild rush to her breasts and the tender tissues between her legs.

“Only one kiss, mind,” she whispered breathlessly.

There was a mocking gleam in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. And just so you know, I’m only doing this for Brent, now.”

He said nothing, scrutinizing her face with a veiled gaze. The instant he touched her, taking a light hold of her bare shoulders, his fingers seared her skin.

Then holding her as gently as if she were something precious, he bent his dark head and grazed her lips with his. Softly. Searchingly. It was such a shock, how exquisitely tender and respectful a man could be. Her emotions, usually under control in this kind of situation, were curiously piqued.

He deepened the pressure of his lips, his hands gentle on her ribs, drawing the breath from her lungs. Drawing her very soul.

Oh, Lord, she was reeling under a spell, while tingles of flame danced along her lips. The pleasure was so intense she came near to swooning.

With her knees buckling, she grabbed his shoulders and clung. He put his strong arms around her and deepened the kiss to a greater intensity, sliding his tongue into her mouth and deliciously teasing the tissues inside.

The mingled flavors of whiskey, wine, and pure male animal filled her giddy senses with the most intoxicating aphrodisiac she’d ever tasted.

Her tongue tip collided with his, and it was as if a thunderbolt rocked his hard body and zigzagged simultaneously through her, fusing them together. Her blood flared to a furious blaze of wild and insatiable desire and she wanted to grab him hard, lick him,
bite
him. Possess him.

She sensed that Rainer was driven by the same instinct. His hands, beautiful hands, had been so tender at first as they stroked her neck and shoulders as if she were made of silk. But soon they grew hot and hungry, convulsively clutching and releasing impassioned fistfuls of her hair, then boldly handling her curves with rough and sexy greed.

She didn’t protest.

She was enthralled, and crazily, thirstily hot for his bare skin and the seductive bulk pressing against her belly. Like a woman in the grip of a narcotic she clutched at him, and actually caressed him in his most highly personal place until he grabbed her hands and held them still. Even so, she managed to release a few of his shirt buttons and feel his chest.

That powerful chest felt so satisfyingly hot to the touch, the satin skin riding his ribs rippled so arousingly under her palms, it was a while before she noticed the growling animal sound coming from her own throat.