“Neither one of us was looking for romance, but we ended up talking, and talking, and talking some more. One thing led to another and...well, here we are.” Connor leaned in, his arm stretched across the back of Megan’s chair in the kind of comfortably possessive posture that sent butterflies skirting around her stomach. “Larry can tell you, when an opportunity as spectacular as this one presents itself, I’m not one to risk losing it. I wasn’t letting Megan out of my sight until I’d secured a date for the rest of our lives.”
Georgette’s hand fluttered to her chest as she sighed over the romance of it all.
Larry exchanged a good-humored look with Connor, muttering something about getting the point loud and clear, and promising to have a look at the numbers Connor was sending over to him the next day.
The dinner continued for another few hours, the conversation easy and entertaining. Megan could tell Connor respected the older man and truly enjoyed his company. The laughter around their table was rich and warm, and by the end of the evening, she felt as though she had two new friends.
Friends she hoped to keep for a lifetime, because a lifetime was what she was looking at with Connor. What she wanted. What she was thanking her lucky stars for granting her the second chance to have.
Letting down her defenses had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. But forced to see what her fears were making of her—she’d had to try.
And once Connor had teased that trust from the tight hold of her fist...handing it over had been incredible. A heady, addictive thing. A release she’d never allowed herself to truly experience before.
And she felt...free.
Safe.
As if maybe fairy tales came in varieties she hadn’t known existed. And this one was hers.
As the men collected their coats, Georgette took Megan’s hands in her own, squeezing warmly.
“I can’t tell you how thrilled we are Connor found you. He had such a rough start with that father of his. He’s earned the happiness you two obviously share.”
“Thank you, Georgette.”
The older woman shook her head, a little crease forming between her eyes. “To think how close you came to missing each other.”
Megan’s head cocked to the side. They’d agreed not to share the part of their “love story” where she’d woken up without a memory and tried to leave, so she didn’t know exactly what Georgette was referring to. “Because of the short window of opportunity in Vegas?”
The smile at Georgette’s lips faltered, her gaze shifting to Connor and back. It was only the smallest slip, really, before a wide, reassuring and yet somewhat less sincere smile replaced it. “Of course.”
Pulling her in for a hug, Georgette whispered, “I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. You’re special.”
This time it was Megan’s brow furrowing, her mind churning over that instant of hesitation and the words that were setting off quiet alarms in the back of her mind. As Georgette released her, Megan opened her mouth to ask...and then stopped. She was being paranoid. Cynical. Looking for nonexistent problems behind words that shouldn’t have been anything but the most beautiful reassurance. So instead she replied with a heartfelt truth.
“He makes me feel that way.”
And then Larry was wrapping Georgette in her coat, and the goodbyes, well-wishes and promises for another dinner were filling the space around them and the night out was at its end.
Only, one look at Connor, at that half smile she had no trouble reading at all, and she knew—for them—the night was just beginning.
* * *
Connor kicked the hotel door closed and, toeing off his shoes, dropped into the unwelcoming cushions of the couch with a groan. It was official. Megan had spoiled him completely.
He’d gotten hooked on the wind-down of their nightly conversations. On the company of a woman whose mind kept him guessing and eager for more.
And now, for the first time in as long as business travel had been a part of his life, he was keenly aware of what he was missing at home.
It sucked.
Yeah, he still got off on the negotiations, bouts of hardball and the pursuit of his goals. But here at the end of the day...something was missing.
* * *
Eyes glued to the monitor in front of her, Megan tried to focus on her last line of code. Only, something inside her balked, grinding a mental heel into the ground of her concentration.
She needed a break. Some food.
The rattle and clink of coins spilling from a slot machine—Connor’s latest text tone—had her lips curving and the lethargy weighing her down evaporating into thin air.
11:37 p.m....CONNOR: You up?
Delighted, she responded, asking how the meetings had gone. She’d missed him like crazy. No matter how much she’d told herself to rein it in, she hadn’t been able to. And now—
The front bell sounded. Was he back? Here to surprise her?
She sped downstairs, hoping to find Connor waiting. Only, as she reached the first floor, her phone rang again. Answering, she swung the door open and felt her heart flip in her chest.
“Oh, my God, I love you,” she gasped, blinking back tears.
The delivery guy nodded. “I get that a lot, actually.”
Amused, Connor asked through the line, “You two need a moment alone, or you ready for dinner?”
* * *
Twenty minutes and half a sausage-and-mushroom thin-crust later, Megan was curled into the living room couch, phone to her ear as she watched the flames flicker in the gas fireplace.
She could hear the rustle of fabric through the phone, the weary groan—and more than anything, she wished she was there. “I’m glad you called.”
“I’ve gotten kind of used to catching up at the end of the night. I like it.”
Megan closed her eyes, snuggling into the sound of Connor’s voice. “Yeah, I do too.”
“So this marriage thing...it’s working out for you?”
A smile played at the corner of her lips. “Yes, Connor. You’ve proven yourself to be quite the provider.”
“That’s not— Okay, good.”
Megan’s eyes were open wide then, something in her heart snared on the broken edge of what he’d been about to say. “It’s working out for me. Like you said it would.” Her voice quieted. “Even better, maybe.”
A part of her expected some kind of cocky response. But instead, a long breath sounded from across the miles. “For me too.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“I’M TELLING YOU, it’s a done deal.” Connor spun his chair away from his desk, letting his gaze run the familiar lines of downtown San Diego from his top-floor corner office.
“Yeah?” Jeff asked. “Trial’s over? You guys starting production on Connor 2.0?”
He nodded. “Any day now.”
Hell, probably tonight, based on the way Megan had lured him back into bed that morning. Twice.
Fortunately his first meeting hadn’t been until ten, because nothing would have kept him from taking delivery of the naughty promises in his wife’s eyes when he’d leaned over the bed to kiss her goodbye and she’d taken hold of his tie and tugged him down on top of her. Or after he’d showered and come back out of the bathroom to find she’d slipped into his suit shirt, buttoning only two buttons and leaving the necktie in a loose knot to trail down the seductive valley between her breasts.
Her game of dress up had cost him a good hour...and the tie, he thought with a satisfied grin.
“That’s what I hear. Amazed you kept the lid on it as long as you did, but these last couple weeks—I can’t go anywhere without somebody’s wife bringing up your marriage.”
Connor’s eyes narrowed, tension winding up the base of his skull. “And?”
“And there’s all the usual speculation you’d expect under the circumstances. Caro. The quick turn between. But then the people who’ve actually been out with you—Clausens, Stalicks, Houstons—the
y’re telling everyone it’s the real deal. They’ve never seen you this way.”
“Me?”
“Apparently you’re in love. Everyone can see it. Brings a tear to my eye.”
Pushing a short laugh past the uncomfortable knot in his throat, he deflected, “You’re watching Steel Magnolias again, aren’t you?”
“Always with the jokes.”
“I’m a guy. That’s how it works. Stop by after knitting club some night and I’ll explain.”
Jeff let out an amused snort. “Just for that, I’m learning. And someone’s going to have a very special Christmas coming up.”
This time it was Connor laughing, because it was entirely possible he was going to find some handcrafted atrocity in his stocking this year. “Jeff, I’m not denying there’s something incredible between us. But neither Megan nor I are under the misconception it’s love. Everyone else? Hell, people see what they want to and make assumptions based on what they expect. I’d rather they assume we’re in love than suggest something less flattering.”
“I get it. And look, I was just curious if something had changed.”
“Hell, no,” he clarified in no uncertain terms. “That total annihilation of boundaries isn’t a game I’m into. Megan and I have a deal, and love isn’t a part of it, thank God.”
Even if he took his parents out of the equation, Connor had seen it too many times before with his friends, with his business associates. Love changed things. Expectations. Relationships stopped working within the framework they were established, and suddenly everything turned fluid—became a constantly changing playing field based on emotions that had come off the chain. There was no more reason. Just a vulnerability that—best case—was mutual.
“No worries, Megan and I both know the score. I made sure up front. You know I wouldn’t let her get hurt.” Then for a little sport, threw in, “So go find your own wife and stop worrying about mine.”
“Yeah, but who says it’s your wife I’m worried about.”
* * *
Another night of champagne toasts and charitable endeavors behind them, Megan stood before the mirror in her dressing room, trying to wrestle the clasp on the sapphire necklace Connor had given her the night before. The stones, warm from her skin, winked and glittered beneath the lights, begging her to leave them on.
Her hands fell away from the clasp as Connor stepped into view behind her. His hands smoothed outward over the terrain of her shoulders, then, following the cut of the back of her dress, met again at her spine where he unhooked the top catch.
Working the zipper down the length of her back, he dropped a kiss atop one bare shoulder and then moved to the other side to do the same. “So...I was thinking about our honeymoon.”
The stiff fabric of her midnight gown fell forward, gaping in the kind of provocative way Megan had never associated with herself, until now.
“What about it?” she asked, trying to concentrate on what Connor was saying, though all she seemed to register was the play of his thumbs over her newly exposed skin.
His hands slid over her waist between the loose fabric of her dress and skimmed around the front. Wide palms and strong fingers explored her hips and belly before smoothing back up to capture her breasts in his palms.
“I was thinking I ought to take you on a real one.” A gentle suction pulled at the skin behind her ear as his words pulled at the tender place inside her. “You don’t remember our wedding. Or our courtship...brief as it was. I want to give you a honeymoon to remember.”
* * *
A memory to keep.
Hot emotion rose fast from the well she’d thought dry, pushing itself past her lips in a gasp and her eyes in a flutter of salty drops she blinked away as quickly as they came. Turning in Connor’s arms, she caught his face between her palms and kissed him. Felt her dress pool to the floor as his hands molded to her bottom, pulling her close and lifting her until they aligned in all the right places.
Her legs wound at his waist as Connor carried her to the bedroom, his mouth making devilish work of the skin across her chest, along her neck and behind her ears. His tongue making promises his body would soon deliver.
How could it be like this with him? How had she ever lived without him? She pushed the questions aside, knowing she wouldn’t ever have to again.
Connor wasn’t going to leave her. He wasn’t going to change his mind.
He’d made a commitment to her different from any of the promises she’d heard in the past. He’d shown her what kind of man he was. Made sure she understood what his word meant. She knew, with him in her life, she finally had someone to count on.
She could let go of all the defenses and anxieties with him.
She could trust him. With everything she had. For as long as they both should live.
An echo of those words whispered through her mind as her back met the soft resistance of their bed. Connor’s flushed face and suspiciously disheveled hair—almost as if someone had spent a good amount of time working their fingers through it—flashed through her mind. The look in his eyes... It was like nothing she’d seen before. It was relief and awe and humor and victory and desire all there for her to see. All there, focused on her. As he said the words For as long as we both shall live...
Not a fantasy. Not her imagination.
Memory.
Reality.
A night she’d thought lost to her forever.
There in his eyes had been the answer to a riddle she’d struggled to solve. An answer she’d found her way to through a different path, but now... God, the way he’d looked at her. The confidence she’d felt looking back at him... It was the kind of confidence that lasted forever.
It was why she’d been able to make a decision in one night, which had taken her nearly two months to come to after.
“I don’t need a honeymoon,” she whispered, her fingers sifting through the silk of his hair as Connor worked down the line of her body.
“Sure you do.” His tongue flicked at the hollow of her navel, briefly blanking her mind of anything beyond the wet, teasing contact. “Turks and Caicos, Tahiti, Venice, Niagara Falls?” He kissed lower, carefully catching the edge of her lacy panties between his teeth before slipping his fingers beneath and gently sweeping them down her hips and off her legs.
The playful glint in Connor’s eyes was gone as he stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at her where she lay, waiting for him. She was bare of everything except the exquisite necklace at her throat and the matching slender heels at her feet.
Propped up on her elbows, she gave in to the wicked impulse to tease, sliding one knee against the other as she watched him work the buttons of his shirt with a determination she’d never witnessed before.
He’d made it to the fourth button when she straightened her leg and, using the peep front of her heel, caught the leather strap of his belt and tugged. His eyes, a dark blaze, flickered to meet hers just as she sank her teeth into the swell of her bottom lip.
For an instant, everything came to a stop. “You’re a fantasy, Megan.”
And then the rest of the buttons came loose in a quick series of pops as he ripped the shirt open.
Wide shoulders jerked free from between the lapels of the now-ruined shirt. The belt was gone next and then Connor was on the bed, crawling up her body even as his hand slid under her bottom and pulled her down to meet him.
* * *
Connor had to have her.
His wife didn’t flaunt it for everyone to see—thank God—but she was the sexiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on.
If he’d had an ounce more patience, he would have gotten the damn pants off before he’d gotten on top of her. Only, the business with the belt and the lip biting about did him in. He needed contact. Now. Needed to feel those gorgeous heels at his back and the soft cradle of her thighs around him. He needed the wet sanctuary of her mouth and the sharp tug of her fingers in his hair.
Again he pulled her against him, rocking into
the sweet spot between her legs. Torturing himself with the layers remaining between them because he couldn’t make himself break away from the too-necessary contact.
Only then Megan snaked her hands in to work his fly—a look of utter concentration in her eyes as she caught the waist of his tuxedo pants and boxers with her heels and pushed them down his body.
When she’d gotten them as far as she could, he kicked them free and met her eyes. “Impressive.”
The smile on her face was priceless, as if she’d accomplished the greatest feat imaginable...or the most critical task at least...by divesting him of his pants—hands-free.
The pink tip of her tongue wet her bottom lip as she held his gaze.
“I’ve got mad skills,” she stated breathlessly.
“So you do.” The smile curving his lips might have seemed out of place in the midst of this kind of sexual urgency, except fun always seemed to find a place when they were together.
Megan’s eyes went to his mouth and then her fingertips drifted to the same place, feathering softly over his lips. “Beautiful.”
Women had been complimenting his looks for most of his adult life, but never had such a simple statement had such a profound effect. Looking down into her eyes, he wanted to get lost in them. Wondered how he hadn’t had to fight off a thousand men in Vegas to get to her himself.
And then he realized. This look he wanted to lose himself in forever... It was for him. Only for him.
He needed to be inside her. Needed it the way he needed his next breath. More, even.
Pushing to his knees, he leaned over toward the nightstand beside the bed and reached for the drawer—only to have Megan’s hand follow the line of his arm and wrap around his wrist, urging him to stop.
His eyes went back to hers. “Condoms, sweetheart.”
“Wait.” Holding his gaze, her palm drifted down his chest, stilling over his heart. “Just you, Connor. Nothing between us.” She swallowed, took a slow breath. “I don’t need any more time to decide. To know.”