Propositioned Into A Foreign Affair / Seduced Into A Paper Marriage
- -
- 100%
- +
She writhed more urgently against him, ready for release, almost there already… He flipped her to her back and took control and kept that sweet finale from her, coaxing her to the edge again and again until her fingernails scored his back.
Still, he tormented her by slowing the pace, damn him. She’d had enough of men ruling her life and her emotions. She would take what she wanted, when she wanted it.
Bella locked her legs around his hips, sensation rolling through her as fast as their wet bodies slid against each other. Almost…Almost…
There.
Her muscles tensed as pleasure pulsed through her so hard and fast a cry burst free. Dimly she registered his hoarse growl of completion as she rode the wave into total satisfaction.
Replete, she sagged beneath him into the fluffy comforter. The scent of champagne, strawberries and lovemaking filled the air, but she knew it would all fade soon enough.
Her escape from reality would end at sunrise.
Sun peeking on the horizon, Sam tucked the sheet more securely around Bella as he carefully slid from the bed. Her hair splayed over the pillow, her bare arm gripping the coverlet as if securing it for another great escape.
Muffin stared at him quietly from the foot of the bed, wide eyes unblinking, Billy Idol snarl in place. He’d never been much of a dog person, but at least the mutt wasn’t an annoying yippy barker.
He shifted his attention back to Bella. No question that Ridley guy had done a number on her ego. The rat’s timing sure sucked, with her grandmother’s illness and her true parentage coming out.
She’d mentioned the press had already started printing stories about the mess. Media hounds would eat up her misfortune faster than wolves devoured a fresh carcass. The very reason he preferred to stay as far away from them as possible.
By all rights he should say goodbye to Bella once she woke. He’d certainly intended to when planning out this seduction.
He’d expected great sex. But he hadn’t expected to want more.
She’d made it clear this was a one-night-only deal for her, too. Now he had to convince her otherwise.
He wasn’t sure how long it would take for them to work each other out of their system. He wasn’t even sure how long he could put up with the media circus that would undoubtedly follow her wherever they went together.
The one thing he did know? He would have to tread warily with her, given her recent experience with men. Of course, he wasn’t an inept jackass like that Ridley moron.
A soft knock sounded from beyond the sitting area, out in the hall.
Right on time.
Sam shrugged into his robe and strode past the remains of their meal to answer the door. Bella’s mutt pattered across the floor to join him. Sam blocked the pup with his foot.
His personal assistant, a middle-aged Englishman, stood in the hall, his eyes going wide for a flash at the sight of the dog. “Here are the clothes you ordered for Miss Hudson, along with a new room key.”
“Thank you, Parrington.” Sam stayed in the entry, not wanting to expose Bella to the other man’s eyes. “And the security breach?”
“One of the ladies at the registration desk started dating the photographer a couple of weeks ago.” Parrington reached for the PDA clipped to his belt. “I have the name here.”
“No need to tell me now. Just send the information to my e-mail. The guy probably seduced the woman for her connections here.” A self-serving ass just like his own father. “Thank you for looking into this. I appreciate that no more stress will be visited on Bella Hudson while she is with us.”
“Rest assured.” His assistant nodded crisply.
“Good. Good. Well done.” Sam closed the door again and stared back into the bedroom at Bella. She still slept soundly.
His body stirred at just the sight of her. He wasn’t sure what made her different, but he still wanted her even after their night filled with lovemaking and what he wanted, he got.
He knew she’d only slept with him as a balm to her bruised ego. No doubt she planned to hotfoot her way out of here when she woke. Most times, that would have been a relief. But he wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her yet. He had other plans.
Plans to delay her leaving France.
Plans to get her back in his bed.
Mind set, he picked up the phone and dialed.
Bella picked through the layers of sleepy fog until she could pry her eyes open. She blinked twice and…
Oh, my God. She’d really slept with Sam Garrison because sure enough, she could hear him in the shower. What the hell had she been thinking?
She scrubbed her tousled hair off her forehead and stretched, her body tender from a night of uninhibited lovemaking. She eyed the empty champagne bottle and a fast flush heated her face. She eyed the clock and groaned again at how late she’d slept.
What seemed like such a good idea last night now seemed totally reckless. How could she have thought she could sleep with a man without giving something of herself?
The shower turned off.
No, no, no, she wasn’t ready to face him yet, wasn’t sure if she would ever be. All of her reasons for jumping into bed with him—her breakup, her parents’ marital train wreck—now had her eying the door for a fast escape before she risked even a corner of her already bruised heart.
She inched quietly out of the bed, farther and farther until one leg slipped off the mattress. She toed the floor and eased herself the rest of the way out from under the covers. Careful not to make a sound. Determined to get away before he finished his shave and she had to make morning-after talk with a man she barely knew but had slept with anyway.
She prided herself on being so much better than many of the promiscuous Hollywood party types. Hell, she’d even managed to keep her clothes on in her movies so far. She was a serious actress, a deep person who rescued pound puppies rather than spending a gazillion dollars on a vanity pet.
And yet at the first sign of heartache, she’d thrown away her clothes and inhibitions.
Speaking of clothes, she needed something to wear. She would settle for the robe, if need be—
Her gaze fell on a stack of clothes resting on the gold-striped sofa, Muffin resting her head on top of the pile. Bella raced across the room for the jeans and frilly top—hers. Sam must have sent someone into her room.
She scruffed Muffin’s head before gently moving the dog aside. “Sh…Stay quiet, sweetie.”
Under the dog’s head, a room card rested on top of the clothes. Thank goodness. With a little luck and a lot of stealth, she could make it out of here undetected with her pet.
She scooped up the clothes. Sam’s thoughtfulness tugged at her.
Or was Sam just eager to see her leave by making sure her clothes were ready? Insecurity nipped her heels harder than Muffin bounding after her, bell around her neck chiming.
“Shhh, shhh, shhh, Muffin.”
Bella took off the collar so the bell wouldn’t chime and alert him to her escape. She would put it on again once she returned to her room.
No way in hell did she plan to be featured in any photos—or relationship—with one of the world’s most eligible bachelors.
She slipped on the clothes and her gold Escada sandals quickly, tucked Muffin back in her carrier and made a beeline for the door. Half in, half out, she stared back at the bathroom door. Wistfulness whispered through her. What if they’d showered together?
God, she was a sucker. “What if” nothing. They’d enjoyed amazing sex, two adults who wanted no ties.
It was over.
She closed the door behind her and took the elevator to the penthouse floor. Almost home free. She should walk Muffin, but she wasn’t ready to be seen in public yet. She turned to the elevator operator…
He nodded. “Do you need help with your little pet, mademoiselle?”
She loved it when people read her mind. “Yes, thank you. She just needs a quick walk. Her leash is looped on the side of her cage here,” she rattled off instructions at light speed as if that would bring about her escape all the faster. She passed over Muffin’s carrier, blowing a kiss to her little sweetie.
The elevator dinged, the doors opened and she raced the last few feet to her door, ready for a shower, fresh clothes—and a new hotel. She whipped her key card in and out, shoved open the door.
And she came face-to-face with the last person she expected to see.
Four
Bella gripped the door to her hotel suite, resisting the urge to bolt back into the hall. It wasn’t like she had to face a pack of wolves. Seated on the floral loveseat was her cousin Charlotte, thumbing through a newspaper, one of her favored Jamin Puech beaded purses beside her.
A cousin who was actually her half sister since they shared the same father.
What a convoluted family tree. Bella had three brothers she’d grown up with, and now her two cousins were actually half siblings.
Charlotte Hudson Montcalm lived with her French aristocrat husband at the Chateau Montcalm, a palatial estate outside Provence, a fair ways from this port city. What in the world was she doing in Marseille?
And more particularly why was she in Bella’s hotel suite, sitting there as serenely perfect as the white calla lilies on the coffee table in front of her?
She loved Charlotte, but wasn’t ready to deal with their changed relationship. Sorting through the tumultuous emotions would take time. She wasn’t ready to see anyone associated with her tangled family tree.
Then why had she decided to hide out in the very country where her cousin/half sister lived with her husband Alec?
Bella sighed, wishing that annoying voice of reason niggling at the back of her mind would take a nap. Freudian slips were a real pain in the butt.
She closed the door behind her and stepped deeper into the sitting area. Light streamed through the window, whispery gold curtains pulled wide to reveal the harbor with sailboats and ringed with quaint whitewashed buildings.
Pulling a smile, Bella opened her arms for a hug, determined to act as normal as possible. “Hello, Charlotte. What a pleasant surprise to find you here waiting for me.”
Her cousin’s signature perfume reminded her of summer vacations together, staying up late and trying out makeup together.
“And hello to you, too.” Charlotte stood, her stomach large with her advanced pregnancy. Still the blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty carried herself with her usual sophistication. They were the same age and during their teenage years, Bella had felt freckled and chubby next to her willowy cousin.
Bella hugged her taller cousin—sister. Damn, it was tough to rewire a lifetime of programming.
Easing back, she reminded herself none of this was Charlotte’s fault. “What are you doing here so far from home?”
Bracing a hand behind her on the arm of the sofa, Charlotte lowered herself back to sit again. “Alec and I flew over this morning to shop for the baby and learned you were here, too.”
An odd coincidence, but Charlotte’s serene smile showed no sign of subterfuge. Alec had planes at his disposal ready to be used at a moment’s notice.
Charlotte pulled back, her brow puckered with worry. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in Marseille?”
Bella sat in the tapestry wingback chair. A light breakfast had already been laid out on the antique tea cart—small baguettes, jams and fresh fruit beside a carafe of coffee, starched linen napkin lying beside the silver tray.
The thought of food churned her already nervous stomach. “Would you like something to eat?”
“Does a bird sing? Of course I would like something to eat.” She grinned. “I’m pregnant.”
Bella watched as Charlotte tore off a piece of bread. “How did you find out I’m staying at the Garrison Grande?”
Charlotte smoothed her hands over her baby belly. “Alec heard it from one of his business contacts.”
The truth exploded in her mind. “From Sam Garrison.”
Charlotte’s silence and neutral smile answered clearly. She swirled the silver knife through the glistening preserves and smoothed a dollop of raspberry jam on top of her bread.
But when would Sam have had time to do this? They’d only met up the night before and they’d spent every waking moment together…
Charlotte speared a melon ball. “Okay, yes, he called early this morning.”
While she’d been sleeping, before his shower. The only question was had Charlotte truly already been here shopping or had she dropped everything to fly over just because Sam sent up an SOS. Regardless, her half sister had gone to a lot of trouble for her. Bella poured a cup of black coffee and took a sip to wash down the lump in her throat.
“I appreciate your stopping by, but why would Sam call you?”
She barely knew the man and already he was tampering with her life. She’d come here to feel closer to her grandmother. If she’d wanted to see her sister, she would have called her. Now she was stuck in an awkward situation where she appeared rude.
Charlotte waved the silver jelly knife lightly. “Who knows what men think most of the time? I do know that you shouldn’t be staying at a hotel. You should be at the estate with Alec and me.”
Damn, damn, damn Sam for interfering. “I didn’t want to risk bringing the media down on you. Stress is the last thing a pregnant woman needs.”
“I’m completely healthy—and ravenous.” She popped the last pinch of bread into her mouth. She chewed slowly before saying, “Are you staying away from me because of our father?”
Bella snapped back in her seat. She hadn’t expected ever-poised Charlotte to be so blunt. Hearing the truth of her parentage still cut straight through to her heart.
“Why would I do that? Mother and Uncle—” she winced “—David are the ones at fault, not you. They’re the ones who cheated on their spouses.”
“Looking at me could make you remember we’re half sisters rather than cousins.” Her blue eyes darkened with pain.
For the first time, Bella considered how all of this must have hurt Charlotte. David Hudson hadn’t been much of a father, always too busy to spend any time with Charlotte or her brother, but he was still their father. The way he’d torn apart the fabric of their family with his betrayal was terrible.
Bella mentally kicked herself for being so self-centered in her grief. Charlotte deserved reassurance. She reached past the wooden tea cart to squeeze her hand.
“I loved you before; I love you now.” As she said the words, she realized they were true.
Her issue was with their father, David. How strange to think she wouldn’t be here without him, yet at the same time it felt as if he’d stolen her real father from her—Markus, the man who’d brought her up, the man who’d declared her Daddy’s pampered girl, the man who’d been kept in the dark for years just as she had.
Until the whole ugly secret had come to light.
Blinking back tears, she snatched the rolled linen napkin from the silver tray and dabbed her eyes. She was tired of crying over this. She needed to quit feeling sorry for herself and move on. “I’m sorry. You’re right that I was avoiding you. I have to confess, I wasn’t sure if I could even speak to anyone about this without crying.”
Yet somehow she’d managed to tell Sam the whole sad and sordid tale. Memories of strawberries and champagne bubbled in her brain, stirring a phantom taste on her tongue.
Charlotte clasped Bella’s hand. “It’s just going to take a while to settle into this new family tree.”
Was it wrong to want the old one back? Was it wrong to be damned indignant on Markus’s behalf? So much anger could sour her insides quickly. She could sure use some of Charlotte’s serenity right about now.
“Wise words.” Bella nodded, ready to talk about anything but this. “How do you feel? Is everything going well with the pregnancy?”
“Totally perfect. I’m huge, but happy.” Her joy sparkled as brightly as her diamond ring catching the sun when she straightened her pearls. “Alec is spoiling me shamelessly. He even says pregnancy is sexy.” She rolled her eyes. “I laugh, but I’m secretly soaking it up. It’s no secret I had a hard time trusting him after the way our father treated my mother.”
Bella tried not to flinch every time Charlotte used the word father. How could she ever grow accustomed to thinking of him that way? She’d always thought she had her mother’s blue eyes. Now looking into Charlotte’s flashing blue gaze, she saw the real source of her eye color.
David Hudson.
She struggled not to cry and risk another outpouring of sympathy from Charlotte that would only make the urge to feel sorry for herself all the stronger. Blast Sam for pressing this on her before she was ready. “Thank you for coming to check on me. That was truly a sweet thing to do. No matter what, we’re family.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that.” Tears filled Charlotte’s eyes this time. “I was afraid things would be uncomfortable between us.”
“We’ll be fine.” She wished she could be so certain about how things would work out with the rest of her relatives.
“So will you stay with Alec and me?”
And watch her sister wallow in all that newlywed love and happiness as the two of them waited for their first child?
Not a chance.
Charlotte may have found peace and happiness in spite of their family’s crummy track record with marriage. But Bella just wasn’t feeling it for herself.
She patted Charlotte’s hand. “Thank you for the generous offer, but I’m afraid I’ve already hidden out from the press as long as I can. I need to get back to the States for the premiere of Honor.”
Charlotte pressed a palm to her back. “Only a few more days until the Christmas debut. I wish I could be there, but a flight that long really wouldn’t be wise for me this late.”
“Everyone understands. You have to put the baby’s health first.”
Charlotte’s smile wavered. “I just hope our grandmother can hold on long enough to see this baby.”
Facing Lillian’s impending death was difficult for the whole Hudson clan. Bella felt as if her whole family was falling apart.
Charlotte sniffed. “Enough tears. I’m meeting Alec in an hour. Please, keep in touch.”
“Of course, I will.” Bella hugged her cousin-turned-sister a final time before walking with her to the door with a farewell wave.
She stayed in the open doorway, watching Charlotte step into the elevator—
Just as Sam stepped out.
Bella gasped and started to back into her room but, oh, my God, she was too late. And hey, wait, she had a bone to pick with him anyway over the heavy-handed way he’d interfered in her life. She stiffened her resolve and waited to face him, toe-to-toe. She had a lot of mixed emotions roiling around inside her these days and he would make a perfect target for a good, old-fashioned shout down to release the pressure.
Sam closed the last few feet between them and walked her backward toward the suite again.
Stopping in the open doorway, she put her hands on her hips and wished she had on heels for height. “Why are you here?”
“Well, good morning to you, too, Bella.” He held up his hands, a filmy gold scarf dangling from one, large-framed sunglasses from the other. “I’m here to kidnap you.”
From the look on Bella’s face, this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d planned.
“Come on,” Sam urged, “at least talk to me inside, so we don’t risk some reporter seeing us.”
Not a chance in hell would that happen here, but she didn’t need to know that.
Huffing, she spun on her heel and headed back into her suite. He closed the door behind them.
He’d hoped a visit with her cousin/sister would soften her up, help her deal with some of her frustration. He’d also hoped reminding her of her family connection to this area would entice her to stick around awhile longer. His instincts were never wrong when reading people in the business world. Why should handling Bella be any different?
He would be analytical about this. Emotions were messy and led to mistakes, a truth he’d learned from his failed engagement to Tiffany Jones. He’d certainly missed the boat on reading that woman. She was the daughter of a respected business acquaintance, and Sam had considered settling down after attending yet another wedding for one of his Garrison cousins.
A momentary weakness.
Tiffany wasn’t worth his trust. She’d slept with a yachting friend of his, then had the gall to try and blame it on Sam for not paying enough attention to her. He might not be the most attentive man on the planet, but he’d been straight-up honest with her from the start about the demands of his career. She’d responded by accusing him of loving his job more than her.
He’d realized she was right and called it quits between them.
Sam shoved aside doubts. He’d taken care of the Tiffany situation before it spiraled out of control into a lifetime mistake. Thank God they hadn’t gotten around to setting a date or sending out invitations. He hadn’t totally screwed things up.
And Bella wasn’t looking for forever. In fact, he was going to have to work his ass off to wrangle a few weeks with her. She was as committed to her career as he was. That boded well for them.
Although her scowling silence wasn’t exactly promising.
Sam looped the gold scarf around Bella’s neck playfully. “Come on.” He tugged lightly, drawing her deeper into her suite. “Smile.”
“Like hell.” She whipped the scarf out of his hand and off her neck. “I’m mad at you.”
The best defense was a good offense. “If anyone has cause to be angry, it’s me. You ran out without saying goodbye. If I’d done that to you, I would be scum. Why is it any different when you skulk off?”
She pitched the wadded scarf at his chest. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What?” He snagged the whispery fabric before it slid to the floor. “Only women get to be indignant over someone running out after sex?”
She opened her mouth, then hesitated. Her brow furrowed with confusion. Ah, he had her off-balance. Good. Let her wonder if maybe he wanted some postcoital cuddling.
Bella shoved her tangled hair back from her face. “I’m sorry for not saying goodbye.” Her frown shifted into a scowl. “Now you can apologize to me.”
“For what?”
She crossed her arms over her luscious chest. “You know what you did.”
“I saved you from the press yesterday. Damn, I’m a real bastard.”
She jabbed him in the chest with one finger. “You called Charlotte.”
“Says who?” he hedged.
“Are you denying it?”
Apparently she knew already, so he confessed, “I’m not denying anything.”
He walked past her, deeper into her room, making it tougher for her to usher him out. He ran a cool hotelier’s eye over the polished sheen of the antiques, the designs unapologetically European. There might be a forty-six-inch flat screen with surround sound at any given U.S. Garrison Grande, but the curtains here were raw silk and the floors polished bamboo.
Here, he’d cultivated a rich, old-world feel all the way down to the paneled murals on the walls. “I called Alec this morning. I was worried about you.”
Her plump lips went tight. “You have to realize from what I told you that my cousin is really my half sister.” She dropped into a tapestry wingback chair. “I’ll deal with that when I’m good and ready.”
He looked around but saw no sign of the padded pink dog crate. “Where’s Muffin?”
“One of your helpful staff is walking her.”
“Good.” He nodded.
“Maybe you can go find her for me,” she said, her hint to leave none too subtle.
“About Charlotte…I thought you might need someone to talk to.” He plucked a couple of grapes from the breakfast tray and popped them into his mouth.
“That’s my decision to make.”
“Hey—” he thumped his chest “—I’m trying to be nice here.”