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3 Seductions and a Wedding
Julie Leto


Sassy heroines and irresistible heroes embark on sizzling sexual adventures as they play the game of modern love and lust. Expect fast paced reads with plenty of steamy encounters.Why wait for the wedding night? Tying the Knot Jessie might not forgive Leo for his long-ago betrayal, but after one scorching kiss, she can’t fight the chemistry any more. But a girl can’t base her future on great sex. Or can she?Take This Man Can hunky Drew convince Annie that he’s the man for her? All he has to do is sweep her off her feet. . . then make her forget that he’s a much younger man… Bedded BlissWhen playboy billionaire Ajay is ready for real commitment, he thinks sexy, sensible Mallory is his woman. Too bad her only desire is to experience his prowess in bed!










Look what people are saying about this talented author …

“Leto has a unique, refreshing writing style that keeps the story moving, bringing erotic images to new heights, while still being romantic.”

—The Romance Reader

“So much sexual tension can’t be healthy, but boy, it feels good while it lasts, huh?”

—Mrs. Giggles

“Smart, sophisticated and sizzling from start to finish.”

—A Romance Review

“Leto’s got the touch!”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“She loves pushing the envelope and dances on the edge with the sizzle and crackle of lightning.”

—The Best Reviews

“Tense, thrilling and sexy …

what more can a reader want?”

—Romance Reviews Today




About the Author


Over the course of her career, New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author JULIE LETO has published over thirty-five books—all of them sexy and all of them romances at heart. She also shares a popular blog—www.plotmonkeys.com—with her best friends, Carly Phillips, Janelle Denison and Leslie Kelly. Julie is a born and bred Floridian home schooling mum with a love for her family, her dachshund and super-sexy stories with a guaranteed happy ending.




Dear Reader,

My family is in the manufacturing business and has been for over fifty years, but honestly, we should be party planners. Need a sit-down dinner for forty? No problem. I don’t know if it’s because we’re Italian or just because we love to have fun, but throwing together bridal showers, surprise birthday parties and even weddings is something we relish.

I’m not sure that one of the heroes of this collection, Leo Sharpe, thought it would be so easy—especially with the ulterior motive behind his decision to throw a surprise wedding for his best friends, Coop and Bianca. Yeah, Leo’s a die-hard romantic, but he’s also a man with an agenda. He’s wants his ex-girlfriend back in his bed and as Bianca’s best friend, she can’t avoid him while they’re planning a sexy, romantic nuptials!

Little does Leo know that the rest of the bridal party has also decided to take sensual advantage of this whirlwind wedding.

And if you want to know precisely why Bianca and Coop can’t seem to make it down the aisle—and how they overcome their obstacles—check out my free, online short story at eHarlequin that tells their tale! Links and details are up at my website, www.julieleto.com.

Happy reading,

Julie Leto


3 SEDUCTIONS AND A WEDDING

Tying the Knot

Take This Man

Bedded Bliss

JULIE LETO






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To Deb Goldman, Barbara Ross and all my wonderful

friends at the Jazzercise Center. Working out every

morning has become an essential component not only

to my physical health, but my mental well-being.

The laughs, the friendship … even the sweat … all

means the world to me.

Thank you … and let’s dance!


Tying the Knot

JULIE LETO




Prologue


“MARRY ME.”

Bianca Brighton threw a coy look over her shoulder and watched the man who’d just proposed dive into the water beneath the breathtaking falls at La Fortuna, deep in the Costa Rican rain forest. He swam directly toward her, his strokes powerful and measured, his body lean and muscled. When he stood, the water sluiced down his sun-kissed skin and made her totally forget his question.

“Excuse me?” she asked, still not turning to face him.

His exasperated grin nearly melted her from the inside out. She knew what he wanted. He’d asked her to marry him a thousand times before—and yet, each and every proposal acted like a major aphrodisiac. Honestly, what could possibly make a woman hotter than knowing that a guy like Cooper Rush wanted to love you for the rest of his life?

He slid his hands around her waist and tugged her tight against his chest. The cold water dripping from his hair drizzled down her shoulders, making her shiver even as her skin absorbed his intoxicating body heat.

“You heard me,” he said. “Marry me.”

Despite the tourists frolicking in the water around them, squealing at the beauty of the lush green plants, turquoise-blue water and massive, volcanic rocks, Bianca closed her eyes and marveled in the intimacy of Coop’s arms. They’d lived together since college graduation ten years ago, but the familiarity of his touch had not lessened its potency one bit. He splayed his fingers across her middle. With his pinky finger, he toyed with her belly ring, practicing the precise flick and swirl she loved—only much lower down her body.

“Okay,” she replied, sighing contentedly.

“Okay? Okay?“ He twirled her around, hands tight on her arms, his eyes rolling with his exaggerated loss of patience. “That’s the answer I get to a heartfelt marriage proposal delivered in one of the most beautiful places on Earth?”

Bianca closed the inches between them and pressed against the curve of his erection, hidden by the water from everyone but her. “Actually, when you say Marry me, it sounds more like an order than a question.”

“So the question has been asked and answered,” Coop replied, clearly having spent way too much time with her client, an attorney who needed legal documents translated from Spanish to English, which was what brought them to Central America. Bianca’s career as a linguist allowed her to travel the world—which was doubly perfect because as a software designer, Coop could follow her or sometimes lead the way. They’d been to every continent except Antarctica, always together and yet never as man and wife. “And yet, I continue to ask.”

“And I continue to say yes!” she said, watching her engagement ring twinkle against his tanned shoulder.

“Actually,” he said, tilting his head so he could nibble on her chin, “the first time I asked, you said something like, ‘Of course, now grab that zip line and let’s go!’”

Laughing, she kissed him, remembering that trip they’d taken to Hawaii nearly a decade ago, when they’d gone on a treetop tour of Maui and Coop had chosen one of the most adrenaline-filled moments of her life to slip a diamond solitaire on her finger and ask her to be his wife. She’d flown across the wires hyped up on love. In the ten years since, the rush had not diminished, even if the marriage had yet to materialize. They’d applied for a marriage license so many times, the clerks of the court in their hometown knew them by sight. But she and Coop had simply been too busy exploring the world to plan the wedding of their dreams.

Well, more like their families’ dreams.

“Let’s get married here,” he suggested.

Bianca sighed. They had, after all, had this conversation before. “Coop, our parents will kill us if we elope.”

His eyes twinkled as he pulled her full against his powerful body. “I’m willing to take the risk … are you?”

Unwilling to immediately reply, Bianca pushed against his delicious pecs and threw herself backward into the water, enjoying the momentary disorientation of falling beneath the surface. In the cool, churning waters, she didn’t have to deal with expectations and responsibilities. She didn’t have to think about how long her mother had dreamed of Bianca wearing her vintage couture dress and how much her father had waxed poetic about walking her down the long aisle at their family’s church.

Then there was Coop’s family. In light of his sister Annie’s not-so-recent yet unexpected divorce, the Rushes spoke of little else but the grand party they wanted to throw for Coop’s trip to the altar—which they were sure, since Coop and Bianca had been inseparable for so long, would last a lifetime, as marriages were intended. Even Bianca’s baby brother, Drew, had once offered to fly out to Montreal to retrieve them from an uneventful seminar if they agreed to a shotgun wedding at the courthouse immediately upon their return. Every single one of their blood relations had some suggestion for dragging Coop and Bianca into marital bliss.

Even their friends had opinions on the topic.

Jessie, Bianca’s best friend since college, supported their right to elope since she hated most bridesmaid dresses. Leo, Coop’s best friend since college, wanted them to pick their favorite exotic locale for a destination wedding they could all attend.

The last time Coop’s boss, Ajay Singh, met up with them in Paris, he’d hinted that since his mother had no wedding to plan for him, she might jump at the chance to arrange one for his friends—if they were willing to do the deed in either London or India. And when Mallory Tedesco, Bianca’s boss, had broken off her engagement to the slick automobile mogul Bianca detested, she’d forwarded every bridal book, magazine and Web site link she’d once treasured for her own.

Anyone and everyone who crossed paths with the couple seemed to know exactly how they should tie the knot, which perplexed Bianca to no end. As far as she was concerned, that rope had been twisted into an irreversible figure-of-eight since the moment they’d met. What did it matter if they had a legal document to seal the deal?

Though a ceremony would be nice.

Great clothes.

A fabulous party.

A honeymoon trip which, despite their extensive travels, they’d never forget.

Emerging from beneath the surface of the mountain pool, Bianca waylaid Coop’s litany of reasons for why they should elope with a long, luxuriant kiss. Inch by inch, she maneuvered him closer to a quiet cove they’d discovered a few days ago, where none of the tourists would follow. Between the dappled sunlight, churning water, wild jungle and their insatiable passion, a quickie would be all they’d need to remind each other how little a wedding would affect their special connection.

Ten years and she was still hot for him. And vice versa. And yet, even as they glided behind an outcropping of rocks that no one seemed to know was there but them, Bianca couldn’t help but wonder what might happen to the magic once they finally said “I do.”




1


“YOU’VE LOST your mind.”

Jessie Martinez set down her fork, a juicy olive speared on the tines, and glanced at the people around her. Annie had nearly sputtered out her beer, Drew had choked on a piece of pepperoni pizza and Ajay, who prided himself on impeccable manners, was coughing into his red-checkered paper napkin. Only Mallory continued to calmly chew her food, though when she swallowed, her gulp was audible in the sudden silence. Leo Sharpe’s ridiculous proposal to throw a lavish surprise wedding for their mutual best friends in less than a week had struck all of them dumb.

Except her. She’d questioned his sanity out loud.

Leo’s smile only deepened. Her ex’s eyes darkened from dreamy turquoise to rich royal-blue, and his grin quirked so that the dimple on his left cheek gave her a rebellious wink. Suddenly, it was hard to remember that there were four other people squeezed into a booth in their favorite pizzeria. Or that less than two minutes ago, she’d scarfed down enough garlic salad dressing to stop a rampaging vampire.

“People have been telling me I was crazy for years,” he replied, tossing an irreverent glance at Annie, who, as the potential groom’s sister, knew Leo best.

Well, except for Jessie. To Coop’s sister, who was six years older than her sibling, Leo was nothing more than a surrogate little brother. To Jessie, he was the man who’d broken her heart.

“And despite that,” Jessie said after taking a sip of her soda, “you continue to construct harebrained schemes that accomplish nothing but inconveniencing large and diverse groups of people.”

“Can you think of a better way to finally get Bianca and Coop married?” Leo asked, giving a cursory glance at the others before focusing on her. “After all these years?”

Jessie opened her mouth, but no answer came out. Though both convoluted and crazy, Leo’s plan to construct and execute a wedding—complete with bridesmaids, groomsmen, clergy, guests, reception and cake—was their best bet in ensuring that Bianca and Cooper were good and wed by the weekend, the last time they’d be in the country for at least another six months to a year.

As Bianca’s best friend, Jessie was ashamed that she hadn’t come up with the idea. She’d witnessed the romance-novel-worthy relationship from the get-go. Bianca and Coop had somehow turned a one-night stand in college into a bond that had lasted more than a decade.

They wanted to get married. She wore the engagement ring Coop had bought from a pawn shop on the day they’d graduated from college and they renewed their application for a marriage license every time they returned to Florida to visit family and friends. But they’d never gotten around to actually walking down the aisle, always preferring to go spelunking in Turkey or climbing Mount Kilimanjaro instead.

“I think your idea is brilliant,” said Ajay Singh, Cooper’s boss, whose lilting accent gave Jessie a little tingle. She’d dated him once—and only once. They’d had an okay time, but while the Oxford-educated multimillionaire had treated her like a queen, they hadn’t clicked. Shame, really. With his fat bank account and jade eyes, he was a hell of a great catch.

Unlike the man she had clicked with. Clicked like the detonator of a bomb.

She frowned at Ajay’s enthusiasm, but couldn’t maintain her negative outlook when Drew, Bianca’s brother, and Annie both piped in with their support.

“A surprise wedding is perfect,” Drew said. “They’ll never slow down otherwise.”

Annie took another long sip of her beer. “So what’s next? And how do we help?”

Everyone leaned eagerly toward Leo—everyone except Jessie and Mallory Tedesco, Bianca’s boss, who had never been loquacious or even social. Jessie was shocked she’d come out tonight. Leo must have dug deep into his endless supply of charm to convince her.

Poor girl didn’t stand a chance. The man was lethal.

Leo pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket, unfolded it and spread it out on the table. “I’ve got it all worked out.”

Jessie couldn’t help but glance over at his list, which was filled not only with his even-spaced, block-style hand lettering, but lines and shapes that reminded her of how he used to doodle on everything from paper tablecloths to cardboard coasters back when they were dating. Always the same shapes—boats. Masts. Bows and anchors and any paraphernalia associated with the sailing vessels he now designed and raced with great success. He’d realized all his dreams, and here he was trying to make sure his best friend, Coop, achieved the same.

He made it so hard to hate him.

Jessie sat back against the red vinyl seat and listened while her former lover outlined his plan, her gaze focused on anything and anyone but Leo. It was hard enough to share breathing space with him on the rare occasions when Bianca and Coop came to town. To sit so close to him now that she could sniff out hints of his cologne from the myriad scents in the restaurant only reminded her that while she’d gotten over his betrayal a long time ago, she had not quite gotten over him.

“There are three things that make up a successful wedding,” Leo said with such authority, Jessie couldn’t help but wonder when he’d become an expert on the topic. He’d never been married, that much she knew. In fact, he’d never seen anyone seriously—not, at least, since her.

“We need a quick ceremony, a great reception and a fabulous honeymoon. Your parents,” Leo addressed Drew and Annie, “have agreed to take care of the ceremony. They couldn’t get a church on short notice, so they opted for the main ballroom at the Hotel del Mar.”

“That’s a beautiful venue,” Annie crooned. “It overlooks the water. It’s perfect!”

Clearly, Annie was as much a romantic as Leo. Or she was just thinking about the pictures, since Annie was a photographer.

“Now, it’s just up to us to plan the reception and the honeymoon.”

“Won’t the hotel take care of the food?” Mallory asked.

“Actually, Jessie’s mom is a caterer,” he said, sparing her a glance. And only a glance. Why did it suddenly matter that he’d spoken her name, but hadn’t deemed her significant enough to look at? “She and Mrs. Brighton are already making arrangements. But the entertainment’s not locked down—and I saw in the paper yesterday that Brock Arsenal is in town.”

“The rock star?” Jessie asked. “He’s not exactly a wedding singer.”

Leo, once again, was not deterred. “But he does sing their song.”

His voice dropped low, and unexpectedly he hummed the strains of that haunting tune in Jessie’s ear. Full of sexual yearning and erotic imagery, Arsenal’s signature ballad teased Jessie’s consciousness, taunting her with memories she should have banished from her mind a very long time ago.

Actually, she’d thought she had.

Drew made room on the table for the waitress, who was delivering a fresh pitcher of beer. “God, Binks played that song over and over for weeks after she and Coop started dating. I thought I’d never get it out of my head. Posters of Arsenal are still up in her old bedroom.”

“It would be really cool if we could get him to play,” Annie agreed. “Impossible, but really cool.”

Ajay nodded. “With the right amount of money, nothing is impossible.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Leo said, clapping Ajay on the shoulder. “I’ll put you in charge of entertainment, then, okay? You and Mallory.”

“Me?” the dark-haired, dark-eyed woman said with a note of protest in her voice.

“Bianca told me that you not only book all of her interpreter work, but you also find people to work with actors when they need to master an accent or learn another language in a hurry. You have to have Hollywood contacts.”

Mallory remained silent, but gave a little nod.

“Good,” Leo said, and then turned to Annie. “You and Bianca are about the same height and size, aren’t you?”

Annie’s green eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you need me to pick out her wedding dress.”

Leo pulled another list out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Unless you want her mother to do it?”

Jessie nearly choked, but Drew actually laughed out loud. Bianca and her mother were polar opposites when it came to fashion sense.

In unison, Annie and Jessie said, “No!”

“I should pick out her wedding dress,” Jessie said. “I know her style best.”

“True,” Leo conceded. “But I have something better planned for you.”

Before Jessie could read anything into his promise, he tapped the list he’d handed to Annie. “Think you can get all this?”

“By the weekend?” Annie asked. “No way. The boutique you want me to go to is in New York City.”

Drew tilted Annie’s hand so he could see the paper. It was hard to tell in the predominantly red lighting in the pizzeria, but Jessie could have sworn Annie blushed.

“That’s the designer Bianca met last summer,” he said.

Leo grinned. “Exactly. She said she’d totally hook Bianca up.”

“I can fly Annie there,” Drew offered. “I could have a plane ready by Thursday morning. We can be back by Saturday with everything my sister will need. It’s about time she wore something other than faded cutoff jeans and ratty hoodies.”

Jessie couldn’t disagree, even if Annie did look uncomfortable with her assignment. Maybe she didn’t like the idea of picking out Bianca’s clothes—or maybe the idea of jetting off with Bianca’s gorgeous younger brother had her a little jumpy. Annie had hardly dated since her divorce, and Drew wasn’t doing a very good job hiding his obvious interest in her. He might be only twenty-six, but he was a successful businessman and an excellent pilot. Annie was in good hands.

But suddenly, Jessie did the math. If Annie went off with Drew and Mallory hooked up with Ajay, then that left.

“Oh, no,” Jessie said, but no one heard her objection except Leo.

He scooted closer, his breath skimming softly against her ear. “That leaves you and me to plan the honeymoon.”

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the way his voice deepened so that the illicit possibilities in his suggestion were impossible to push from her mind. Suddenly, she imagined her body, naked and hot, pinned to the sand by Leo’s muscular form with a sultry summer sun on his back and in her eyes, while his mouth did deliciously decadent things to her lips, neck and breasts.

“We can’t do this,” she said.

There was too much history. Too much hurt.

“It’s been ten years, Jessie. Can’t we let go of the past long enough to give our friends the future we could have had if I hadn’t screwed up?”

Ajay picked up the bill. Drew was on his cell phone with the airport while Annie checked in with her young sons, who were visiting their father’s parents. Mallory stood a few feet away, toying with her iPhone, a tiny grin curving her mouth. Leo, however, simply stared at Jessie, his pupils wide and locked on her as if she were a steak and he a starving man.

Everyone seemed excited about the prospect of pulling off the surprise wedding.

Everyone except her.

“What are you afraid of, Jessie?” Leo taunted.

“I’m not afraid of you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she snapped.

Leo was right. What had happened between them had been a long time ago. She’d had plenty of relationships since then. She’d been engaged. Twice, though she’d never actually made it to the planning stages of either wedding.

Over the past decade, she’d endured seeing Leo whenever Bianca and Coop came back to town. Their breakup had not affected their individual friendships with the soon-to-be bride and groom. Why couldn’t she endure a weekend of travel planning with him? It wasn’t as if they were jetting off to some romantic destination to check out the site for themselves.

“Then go home and pack. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

“Pack? For what? If you think I’m staying at your place while we figure out where to send Bianca and Coop, you have another think—”

“I’ve already figured out where we’re sending them,” he said, scooting out of the booth, which was now empty.

Jessie didn’t move. She watched Leo exchange cell phone numbers with the others as they walked to the door. Only after everyone had left did he turn around and crook his finger in beckoning.

She looked away, but she couldn’t stay there all night. She was Bianca’s best friend. She loved her like a sister. She’d been praying for Bianca and Coop to settle down for years, or at least long enough to make their love affair legal. The least Jessie could do was make sure that Leo didn’t totally mess the long-awaited honeymoon up by sending them to kite-surf in Bora-Bora or scuba dive on the Great Barrier Reef—both of which they’d already done.

They needed something special. Something romantic. Something that reminded them that their relationship hadn’t always been about foreign travel, adventure and games.

She joined Leo at the door.

“Okay, Mr. Wedding Planner. Where exactly do you propose we send the couple who has been everywhere?”

Leo’s grin was so full of self-satisfaction, she almost slapped him. Or kissed him. With Leo, the line between the two was always taut and ready to snap.

“We’re going back to where it all started,” Leo told her, opening the door so that the humid Florida air clashed with the air-conditioned interior of the restaurant, plunging her into just the kind of heat that normally got her into a ton of trouble. Especially around Leo.

After a split second, her brain processed what he’d said and she stopped dead, her foot stumbling on the sidewalk so that Leo had to grab her by the elbow to keep her upright. The minute their skin made contact, Jessie lost her ability to breathe. His fingers were strong, his palms warm, his forearms tan and ripped with muscles.

She swallowed thickly. “You can’t mean Key West.”

“Oh, yes, I do mean Key West,” he promised, pulling her up so that their noses nearly touched. “In every way possible.”




2


THE START FLAG had raised and the horn had sounded. Leo had calculated and planned with precision, but the operation to win Jessie back—and marry off his best friends in the process—was a risk nonetheless.

Luckily for him, Leo’s gambles usually paid off. He hadn’t made his way in the highly competitive world of yacht design and racing by playing things safe. Throwing off the old designs and traditions had made him a popular guy in a very elite, exclusive club. He’d even managed to keep his business afloat during tough economic times by selling his custom-made watercraft to foreign competitors who hadn’t yet felt the crunch of the tight market. To attain success, he’d kept his eyes on the prize and thought outside the box.

If he wanted Jessie back, he was going to have to pull out all the stops—including those that were keeping her from admitting that she still loved him.

Okay, so he wasn’t entirely certain she was still love-struck. In all honesty, his research proved the complete opposite. For three years following the swamping of their relationship, she’d refused to be in the same room with him. Until Bianca and Coop started spending more time out of the country than in, Jessie had used every excuse in the book to make sure they never breathed the same air. But when their wayward friends only had a three-hour layover between trips to Bimini or Istanbul, she couldn’t be too choosy about which friend Coop preferred to see at the same time—and it was usually Leo.

From then on, they’d agreed—without ever speaking on the matter—to a cold but lasting truce. But every chilly “Hello, Leo” and equally icy “How are you doing?” reminded him of everything he’d lost by screwing up. He’d apologized, of course, but apparently, words weren’t enough. He’d assumed that time would undo the damage he’d wrought, but even after ten years, Jessie Martinez held a grudge like a stuck anchor.

Yet the last few times they’d seen each other, he’d sensed a momentary crack in her glacial veneer. The way her eyes dilated whenever he leaned close to her. The way she didn’t stiffen at his touch when he handed her a beer.

Even now, the subtle but noticeable tightening of her nipples beneath her snug blouse when he’d stopped her from taking a tumble on the sidewalk stoked him to act.

Of course, he might just be suffering from an incurable case of wishful thinking—but where was the fun in believing that?

“I’m fine,” she insisted, even though he knew that if he released her, she’d likely crack her head on the concrete.

“You sure?”

She scrambled to get her feet back under her, then tugged out of his hold. She stumbled slightly, but managed to stay upright. He couldn’t resist smiling. She was beautiful when she was flustered. Well, she was beautiful when she was confident, when she was shy (which wasn’t often) and especially when she was pissed off. Which meant that in a little less than an hour, she was going to rival Helen of Troy, Miss America and poor, plain Angelina Jolie.

She wiped her hands on her jeans. “How are we getting to Key West? It’s a long drive.”

“Let me worry about transportation,” he said. “The most important thing is that we get the house habitable by the weekend.”

Her chin quivered. “What house?”

“The house we rented that summer,” he replied. “The house on the private—”

“Island? You can’t have rented it. The owner sold it.”

That stopped him. How could she have possibly known?

The summer between their sophomore and junior years in college, Bianca and Coop, still in the early stages of their love affair with both each other and wanderlust, had found a spectacular five-bedroom, split-level house to rent for a month on a private key about ten nautical miles off Key West. Unfortunately, Bianca’s overprotective parents had objected to their daughter shacking up with her boyfriend all alone on an island. Though over eighteen, Bianca had used her parents’ concern (and threats to stop paying her tuition) to entice her best friend, Jessie, into coming along on the once-in-a-lifetime getaway.

Coop had done the same with Leo and it was on that island and in that house that Leo had fallen hopelessly and helplessly in love with the woman who now hated his guts.

Well, hate was a strong word. He was fairly certain that time had tempered her loathing to sheer dislike by now.

Time, however, had done absolutely nothing to alleviate his cravings for her. Yeah, he’d been the one to wreck their burgeoning relationship, but after a decade of concentrating on nothing but work and sailing, along with the occasional fling just to make sure his parts were still in working order, he was ready to reclaim the ultimate winner’s cup—Jessie. He wanted her back and he was going to use this wedding as an excuse to seduce her back into his life.

“Owner listed it again a couple of years ago,” he explained. “I used to sail a lot in the Keys, so a broker gave me a call.”

She swallowed visibly. “You own it now?”

He smiled. “Every palm tree and grain of sand, though no one has been on the property for years.”

“Why?”

Her expression was a mixture of disbelief and disgust, which on the surface wasn’t a very good sign.

“I’ve been busy. I don’t get down there much anymore and my caretaker quit last year.”

“No, I mean, why did you buy it, especially if you never use it?”

“Do you really want to know the answer or would you rather go home and pack? We leave in—” he consulted his watch “—two hours.”

She narrowed her eyes, searching for some clue to his motives, but finding none, she cursed and stalked toward her car. “I’m only doing this for Bianca and Coop.”

He slung his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Of course. Why else would you go with me to the remote, deserted island where we first made love?”

From the short distance between them, Leo couldn’t tell whether Jessie’s eyes watered on account of deep, residual hurt or blind fury. Still, his best bet was to take off now, before she could retaliate.

He slid into his convertible, rubbing his chin absently while he watched Jessie tear out of the parking lot, the backside of her car fishtailing in her haste. He hoped she made it home in one piece. Or better, that she made it through this trip without ripping his throat out. He was so wrapped up in thought, he started when Drew Brighton leaped over the passenger door and landed smoothly in the seat.

“You’ve lost your mind, man,” Drew said.

Leo glanced at Bianca’s little brother and grinned. “So you agree with Jessie that this whole surprise wedding thing is crazy?”

Drew brushed at a smear of grease on his jeans. “Nah, I agree with Ajay that the whole lark is brilliant. The only way to get those two to settle down long enough to get hitched is to totally blindside them with something spectacular. I’m talking about you and Jessie.”

Leo tugged his car keys out of his pocket and shoved them into the ignition. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Drew snorted. “My sister and I are close, man. And I dated Jessie once.”

“You? You’re like, what? Twelve?”

Drew cursed. “I’m twenty-six and my moving company made more money than your little sailboat ventures last year and the year before, asshole, so shut the hell up about my age.”

Leo mumbled an apology. He liked Drew. The kid was a few years his junior, but he’d always come across as a wise, old soul when he wasn’t cussing Leo out for being a jerk.

“You’re right,” Leo said, lifting his hands off the steering wheel in surrender. “I didn’t know you dated Jessie.”

“It was just once for some charity event. We had a great time, but I’m like her brother. And I overheard enough of her conversations with my sister to know that you trashed her heart.”

He nodded. “Guilty as charged.”

“Then why did you set up this whole surprise wedding to try and get her back?”

“How did you know?”

Drew’s gaze flicked to a minivan parked a few cars away, where Annie Rush was tossing an impressive cache of empty single-serving-size Cheerios boxes and fast-food bags bedecked with characters like Ronald McDonald and the Burger King into the garbage. “Because I like the way you think.”

Leo jolted as he made the connection.

“You’re hot for Annie?” Leo asked. Annie had graduated from college before Coop had even started, which put her at about thirty-eight. She had two kids and relatively moist divorce papers. Leo doubted she had the time or interest in a guy so much younger, but what the hell did he know? He’d set his future on reigniting a relationship with a woman he’d betrayed in the worst way. If the kid wanted to shoot for the stars, who was he to judge?

“Actually, yeah. Does that bother you?”

“Might piss Coop off,” Leo replied. “I don’t know how he’d feel about his older sister dating his much younger brother-in-law.”

“I’m not interested in dating her,” Drew said.

Leo held up his hand. “Look, I don’t want to know. I gave you the list of stuff you need to get in New York. If there’s nothing else, I’ve got a boat to catch.”

Drew laughed. “Of course you do. I’m no expert sailor, but I’ve been around Jessie a lot more than you have in the last few years. Consider yourself under a severe weather warning, okay? Ten years might have gone by since you screwed her over, but she hasn’t forgotten.”

“Good,” Leo said, revving up the engine. “If she still hurts, then she still cares.”

Drew shook his head as he exited the car. “That’s the best you got?”

“Better than what you got, bud,” Leo said, flicking his gaze at Annie, who now looked as if she’d unpacked half of a sports equipment store out of the back of her van.

“We’ll see,” Drew replied. “Care to wager?”

Leo threw the car into reverse, but braked at Drew’s challenge. Building boats that raced in the most prestigious competitions in the world had given him a taste for gambling. Not because he needed the winnings, but because he loved to shove his superiority into the face of his competitors. It was juvenile and arrogant, but at least he was honest about it.

“I’m not betting that you’ll get into Annie’s pants. She’s my best friend’s sister.”

“Then just bet that I’ll get what I want before you get what you want.” Drew extended his hand.

Leo didn’t hesitate. “You’re on. What’s the stakes?”

Drew eyed Leo’s sports car, but thought better of it. “If you win, I fly you and your lady love to any destination in the continental U.S. for an uninterrupted weekend of bliss.”

“Can we join the mile-high?”

“What you do in the back while I’m flying is none of my business.”

“And if you win?”

Drew closed his eyes, thought hard, then smiled as if he’d just conjured up a particularly decadent daydream. “One weekend around the Turks and Caicos on your best rig.”

Leo laughed, shook the kid’s hand and allowed himself a split second to imagine making love to Jessie in the sky. “You’re on.”




3


IF JESSIE were to select recipes to describe Bianca’s family, the Brightons would have been some exotic dish that included rare Kobe beef, saffron handpicked from crocus plants in southern Spain and truffles extracted by the nosiest pigs in Piedmont, Italy. The Martinez clan, on the other hand, were more like chicken and yellow rice with black beans—exotic to people who didn’t live in the tropics, but rather ordinary to everyone else. As the matriarch, Celia Martinez did not entertain wild ideas, nor did she gamble, take risks or do anything that might cause someone to get hurt. Most particularly, her daughters.

Knowing this, Jessie wasn’t entirely sure how her mother would react to her announcement that in a little less than twenty minutes, she was taking off from her above-the-garage apartment adjacent to her mother’s house with the man who’d once broken her heart into a million pieces. It was probably safe to confess that they planned to transform their former love nest into a honeymoon destination for their best friends—but her recently added decision to seduce Leo while they worked she’d keep to herself.

Jessie had never really been a lemons-to-lemonade kind of girl, but maybe the time had come for her to change. She was going to be stuck with Leo whether she liked it or not. The love they’d once shared had turned to bitter loathing, but as far as she could tell, their mutual attraction hadn’t dissolved one iota. Her body flared with heat the minute she laid eyes on him. She’d caught herself staring at him more than once tonight—at the way he charmed the waitress with nothing more than his smile or how he savored every bite of his decadent pepperoni-and-sausage pizza as if it were the finest cuisine in the world.

Bianca’s mother might have appreciated the irony and the great adventure. She might even have helped Jessie plan the ultimate act of sexual revenge. Unfortunately, Mrs. Brighton was busy planning her daughter’s out-of-the-blue nuptials … and, apparently, so was Celia Martinez, who was sitting at her kitchen table, poring over her best recipes.

“Hey, Ma,” Jessie said, closing the kitchen door behind her and, on automatic, heeling off her shoes and lining them up on a rack beside the refrigerator.

“Oh, Jessie! Thank God you’re here. Did you hear about the wedding? Oh, of course you’ve heard. Alina called an hour ago. I don’t know how we’re going to pull this all off in less than a week? What was that … man … thinking?”

Jessie glanced at the clock. She was pretty sure her mother had wanted to use a much more colorful word to describe Leo, but in keeping with her rather strict dictates regarding proper language, she’d refrained. Still, she had a way of making the word man sound as if Jessie should, in a complete role reversal, demand her mother wash her mouth out with soap.

“It’s the only way to get Bianca and Coop married,” Jessie said. “And they deserve a cool surprise wedding planned by the people who know and love them best.”

“You’re right, but there is so much to do! Take these,” she said, sliding a pile of recipes across the table, “and call our suppliers to make sure we have everything by tomorrow morning. I know it’s late, but—”

“I can’t, Ma.”

Her mother’s dark eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean, you can’t?“

“I’m the maid of honor,” Jessie explained, suddenly not sure why she’d come inside to tell her mother about her trip in person. What were cell phones for, anyway? “I’ve got my own things to do. Or thing, anyway. But you can’t do this alone. Call Deborah.”

Celia shook her head, her mouth set in a stubborn moue. “Deborah has babies. She can’t help at this late—”

Jessie groaned. Her older sister’s “babies” were now twelve and thirteen. Deb, who’d been working for their mother’s catering company just as long as Jessie, was always given a pass whenever emergencies came up—and not by choice. Despite the fact that Celia had worked full-time while her children were young, Jessie’s mom had weird beliefs when it came to other working mothers. As in, they shouldn’t work unless completely necessary. This meant Deb, who was undeniably more capable than Jessie, rarely got a chance to shine.

Well, Jessie hoped her sister was ready to go supernova, because not even the most skilled guilt trip from her mother was going to keep her from going to Key West with Leo.

On the drive home, she’d been angry at how he’d manipulated her into spending time alone in the very house where they’d first made love. She’d nearly driven off the road twice while contemplating how she was going to tolerate an hour on her own with him, much less almost an entire week. For the better part of the last decade, she’d either avoided him or frozen him out, trying to forget how willfully and carelessly he’d torn apart her trust.

But as she’d cruised the familiar streets of her neighborhood where she’d learned how to ride a bike, shake off a scraped knee and navigate the stormy waters of adolescence, she’d realized that she could either whine about the situation or take control. Leo’s presence, if nothing else, sparked the Jessie she used to be—the girl brimming with sass and direction and desire. She could not blame Leo entirely for those qualities falling to the background, but she didn’t mind giving him a bit of credit for stirring them again.

Bianca had told Jessie years ago that Leo wanted her back. She’d confided how he regretted cheating on her back in college with a girl who’d climbed into his bed one drunken night whom he’d believed—or so she’d been told—to be Jessie. Leo had never denied that he’d had sex with the girl, some tramp from his dorm who’d had her eyes on him for months. Too drunk to tell the difference had just been an extra insult she simply couldn’t overcome.

Yet if Leo fancied this week as an opportunity to force their reunion, he was mistaken. They’d get “back together” only long enough to have amazing, mind-blowing sex. And this time, when she walked away, it would be on her terms and not because he balled some other girl whose name he probably didn’t remember.

This surprise wedding presented her with a chance to not only make Leo pay for what he’d put her through, but also to purge the man from her system once and for all. She’d tried just about everything—she’d been bitchy to him and cold. She’d insulted him under the guise of humor and he’d always greeted her animosity or indifference with his signature roguish grin or flirtation.

He was incorrigible.

Which made him utterly irresistible.

To offset his lasting effects on her psyche and libido, she’d tried dating men who were his polar opposite—steady, staid and boring—as well as guys just like him: players with endless capacities for fun and irreverence. She’d been engaged to one of each. And yet, neither of them cleansed him from her soul.

No, she was going to have to fight fire with fire. Her plan was just as insane as his to throw a surprise wedding, but perhaps the results would turn out just as spectacular.

“Deb has been waiting for a chance like this, Ma,” Jessie declared. She couldn’t go off for a few days of decadence if she thought she was leaving her mother to contend with cooking dinner for two hundred people without any help. “She wants to prove she’s got the stuff to take over this business when you retire.”

“I’ll die before I retire,” her mother muttered.

“Probably, but don’t you want to leave your legacy to someone at some point?”

Celia frowned. “Deb has a husband. Children. I want to leave the business to you, so you can—”

Jessie cut her mother off with a weary sigh. “Have something to occupy my lonely nights?”

Celia scooped up her recipes and shuffled the order, but without much focus. This wasn’t a conversation either wanted to have again, not when they’d fought this fight so many times already. In the end, they’d simply be so angry with one another that they wouldn’t speak for a week. Jessie didn’t have the energy. Not when she had a seduction to look forward to instead.

Jessie knew she should have never joined the catering business in the first place. She’d done so strictly out of comfort and familiarity. Having acted as her mother’s gofer for years, she appreciated the thrill of pulling off a spectacular event. But she wasn’t a good cook, and her eye for design was limited to expertly recreating what someone else had put together. She’d told herself over and over that working in the family business was just a layover—a bridge until she figured out what she really wanted to do.

But that argument was hard to maintain now that she was past her thirtieth birthday.

For the first time in forever, Jessie finally had a fire in her belly. She had a goal—an attainable ambition that could lead her to bigger and better things. She hadn’t realized until tonight how the memory of Leo and what he’d done to her acted like an impenetrable wall to her future life. She needed to break down that barrier, once and for all, by wiping all the “what ifs” with regard to Leo Sharpe out of her—mind, body and soul.

And if she could also give her best friend in the world the wedding of a lifetime in the process, so much the better.

“Ma, I already called Deb and she’s on her way. I love working with you, but this isn’t my dream. You’ve always known that.”

“What is your dream, then?”

Jessie swallowed her reply. It was too personal for her to voice out loud. She’d only just figured out she wanted to sleep with Leo again and she wasn’t ready to share her epiphany with anyone—especially not her mother.

“To throw Bianca the best wedding ever,” she answered, slipping her hands onto her mother’s shoulders and massaging out the tension. “She might travel the world on a whim, but she’s always been there for me. For us.”

Little by little, the tightness in her mother’s muscles melted away. Celia had started out as a cook in her husband’s Cuban restaurant, but that all changed the day Miguel Martinez unexpectedly contracted pneumonia and died. Too traumatized to reopen the restaurant, Celia had voiced the desire to do something else with the insurance money. Opening a catering business had been the top of her list, but she’d had no idea where to begin.

Luckily, Bianca’s well-to-do parents had stepped in and guided Celia, helping her choose a location for her headquarters, giving her advice on how to find employees, suppliers and customers. A dinner party for twenty hosted by the Brightons had been her first gig. Pulling off this wedding was only a small token toward paying them back.

“Bianca is like my third daughter and I want her to have a magical wedding day,” Celia agreed. “You do what you have to do, mijita.”

Jessie kissed her mother’s cheek and grinned when she heard her sister’s car pull into the driveway. “That’s what I intend to do, Ma. And then some.”




4


LEO’S LUNGS tightened and then burned. Instantly, sweat stung the corners of his eyes and his hands slipped on the steering wheel of his 1969 pickup. He’d exchanged his sports car for the truck not only to carry more gear, but also to impress Jessie with its rugged coolness. But now that he’d witnessed her strutting down the stairs from her walk-up apartment in a skirt so short it might as well have been a belt, he was the one impacted to his core. He shifted in the driver’s seat, his jeans suddenly snug around his package.

Great first impression, Sharpe. Greet the woman you once screwed over with a raging hard-on. That’ll make her trust you again.

He glanced away, but not before he caught a naughty grin slide across her lips, painted the color of the Caribbean sunset. What did she have to smile about? Only an hour and a half ago, her fury over his plan had been undeniable. What had changed?

Her clothes, for one thing. In college, Jessie had developed a real eye for clothes that drove him wild. Never quite trashy, but always on the edge. His memory swam with images of flesh-colored fishnet hose, leather pants and a particularly tricky lace-up bustier he’d become adept at removing in ten seconds flat.

Today, her look was a bit more subdued, but just as mouthwatering. She’d paired the white skirt with a peachy halter top that made her olive skin glisten in the setting sun. Her hair, long and dark, was pulled into a messy knot that reminded him of lazy mornings in bed after a particularly hot and sweaty night. Everything about her screamed sex—and not missionary sex, either. Hot-chick-on-top sex. Suck-me-till-I’m-dry sex. Loud, grunting, never-forget-me sex.

The kind of sex they used to have as often as possible before he’d thrown it all away.

On the morning she’d discovered him hung over and in bed with some girl he hardly knew, Jessie had made it perfectly clear that she would never forgive him. For months, he’d tried everything. Flowers. Chocolate. He’d even conned his fraternity brothers into an old-fashioned serenade under her window. She hadn’t even lifted the blinds.

After graduation, he’d tried just to talk to her, but despite his determination to be charming, she’d either ignored him entirely or answered every comment he’d made with sarcasm or hostility.

Only after Bianca and Coop’s visits became less frequent did they call what could best be described as a grudging truce. They’d existed that way until, apparently, tonight. Because if Jessie wasn’t trying to cruelly torture him with her choice of sexy clothes and flaming lip color, he couldn’t imagine what she thought she was doing.

Leo met her on the cracked shell path that led from the garage to the driveway.

“You’re late,” she chastised, but without any of her usual annoyance. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time her voice had been so deep and smooth.

His blood supply rushed south yet again.

“Sorry,” he said, dizzy. “Had to get a couple of things … together.”

Without direction, his gaze dropped to her breasts, pressed up nicely by what he suspected was a dark bra, judging by the outline beneath her snug top.

He eyed her suspiciously. Better than anyone else, she knew his weaknesses. Some guys got all hot over naked tits. A few even liked those tasseled pasties that seemed all the rage in strip clubs. But to get Leo really raw, all a woman had to do was don black lace lingerie.

And the undergarments had their strongest effect when Jessie wore them.

“Are we all set, then?”

Again with the sultry voice.

“This all you’re taking?” he asked, gesturing toward her single backpack.

“We’re going to the Keys, right?” she asked, her face so angelic with innocence, his hackles … not to mention other parts of his anatomy … raised even higher. “It’s not like I need to pack a parka.”

She dropped the pack at his feet. He’d scooped it into his hands before he realized how he’d bowed down in front of her. She hadn’t moved except to shift one bare leg a half inch closer to him. He took his time standing, allowing his stare to slide up her body and appreciate each and every curve.

In college, she’d been slim from a constant diet of Ramen noodles and artificially sweetened coffee with no cream. Now she had curves in all the right places, particularly around her backside, where her incredible genetics had blessed her with a booty that could make a man weep. Before he broke down, he stood and gestured her toward the truck.

“What time is our flight?” she asked.

“We have a flexible departure,” he replied, opening the passenger door and helping her into the elevated vehicle. He placed her backpack at her feet and then, before he lost himself in fantasies featuring those tanned legs, slammed her door shut and jogged around to the driver’s side.

“You hired a private plane?” she asked, her voice lilting with what he suspected was suppressed awe.

“Not exactly.”

The truck roared to life and soon they were on the road, heading toward the marina where he berthed his favorite boat. He hadn’t yet told Jessie how they were traveling to the Keys. She’d sailed with him before and wasn’t afraid of the water, but it was bad enough that he had arranged for them to be on an essentially deserted island for two days. If he added a thirty-hour sail trip with no means of easy escape, she might balk entirely.

Having not yet put on her seat belt, she scooted closer to him, scooping up his smart phone and waterproof GPS system and sliding them onto the floor. Ten years ago, he would have rejoiced at the idea of her having maximum access to his body while he was driving down the road. He could remember several crazy nights struggling to keep his vehicle on the pavement while she’d wrapped her hands around his cock and tugged him into sheer delirium.

When, for a split second, he thought he caught the same wicked gleam in her eyes, he cleared his throat, pressed down the brake as they approached a red light and said, “Seat belt?”

“You don’t live on the edge anymore, Sharpe?” she asked.

He forced a confident grin. “I don’t want anything to happen to you on the way to paradise. Buckle up, babycakes, or we’re going to be sitting at this intersection for a while.”

She pouted prettily, but did as he asked, taking her time stretching the strap across her torso so her cleavage was even more enhanced. Jessie had never been overendowed, but she always knew how to make the most of her curves.

The ride to the marina was relatively short, punctuated by her confused look when he took the exit on the interstate that led him to Harbor Island rather than continuing on to the airport. Once she realized where they were going, though, she didn’t object. One moment of apparent uncertainty was followed by a quick smile and a brief “You’re full of surprises.”

He’d already prepped the boat for departure, so he guided her down the pier with only their backpacks slung over his shoulder. At the end was his pride and joy—a sleek, black-hulled cruiser with every imaginable luxury from a full galley to a spacious master stateroom. The weather promised calm seas all the way to the Keys, so he knew he could handle the vessel with moderate help from Jessie.

How he’d handle Jessie was something else altogether.

She stopped at the end of the dock, glancing coyly over her shoulder when he came up behind her.

“This your design?”

He didn’t even attempt to contain his swell of pride. “My newest.”

She leaned forward, her back arched enticingly, as she took in the clean lines and sleek surfaces of his creation. He hoped she didn’t ask him any questions because at the moment, watching her backside lift toward him in unabashed offering had zapped all his knowledge about the ship. Hell, he couldn’t remember his own name.

“And it’s safe?” she asked, her eyes glinting with naughty delight.

He fought to restore moisture to the inside of his mouth. “Safe?”

Oh, yes. The boat was utterly seaworthy. Jessie was in no danger of drowning. He wished he could say the same for himself, because this woman—the utterly unrepentantly sexy woman, so like the one he’d fallen in love with—was pulling him under with her wild sensuality.

She quirked an eyebrow. “I’d prefer not to get too wet on our way to the Keys.”

He swallowed thickly, and then regained his ability to speak. He gestured her aside, jumped onto the deck and then offered her his hand. “I can’t make any promises, but I can guarantee you’ll stay out of the ocean.”

She smiled. Smiled! He’d just turned her statement into a potent innuendo and as a result, she’d smiled? This wasn’t Jessie.

Well, actually it was. The old Jessie. The one who’d matched his wit word for word and who’d never shied away from anything exploratory in a sexual sense as long as he eased her out of her comfort zone with assurances of love that, damn it, he’d totally meant. Had all this talk about weddings and forever-afters finally softened her heart?

He made short work of the last preparations for sailing, checking the satellite radio, his navigation system and his supplies. He grabbed a life jacket from the aft compartment and went looking for Jessie. He found her sitting on the bow, her bare legs dangling over the side.

“It’s a beautiful night for sailing,” she said.

He handed her the jacket, which she folded behind her. “Should be calm seas.”

“How long does it take to get to the Keys?”

“If we keep to about six knots, either by sail or by engine, we should be there by tomorrow night.”

She glanced up at him through hooded eyelids. “And if we go …” she paused while she took an obvious visual of his crotch “… slower?”

He stepped back. “What are you up to, Jessie?”

“Up to?” Her gaze flicked back to his groin. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?”

Again with the husky voice and bold attitude. He had half a mind to haul her to her feet and kiss the superior look off her face—so he did.




5


SHE MELDED to his chest like neoprene, hot and snug and tight. She opened her lips even before he’d pressed his mouth to hers so that their tongues instantly connected. She tasted like mint and rainwater. Her perfume, a warm scent that reminded him of the churning ocean during a sun-drenched squall, made him dizzy. When she slid her hands against his cheeks and raised herself higher to fully explore the depths of his mouth, he thought he might lose his mind.

But instead, sanity slammed into him. As lusty and raw as some of his fantasies about Jessie had been, none included her making the first move.

Even he had limits to his imagination.

He gently grabbed her waist and pushed her an inch away.

“What are you doing?” he asked, panting from the effort of fighting against what his body needed and his mind wanted to know.

“I’m kissing you,” Jessie replied, equally winded. “Has it been so long that you don’t remember how it’s done? Because you were doing fairly well—”

“Fairly?” he asked, shocked. “Wait, that’s not the point. Why are you kissing me?”

She sidled up closer, her pupils so round and black he could hardly spy the brown that normally surrounded them. “Don’t you want me to kiss you?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.”

“Then you shouldn’t, either. You’ve got me where you want me. Why are you hesitating?”

“That’s a damned good question,” he conceded.

Leo charged to the back of the boat and continued his pre-launch routine until he had the engine purring, the lines released and the boat easing smoothly into the channel that would lead them through Tampa Bay and then into the open waters of the Gulf of Mexico. He was kept busy with procedures, but with Jessie’s taste lingering in his mouth, he found it nearly impossible to not watch her on deck, her shoes discarded, her heels kicked up on the railing so that looking forward as he maneuvered the boat meant constant eye contact with her slender legs.

At sunset, they crossed beneath the behemoth Skyway Bridge. Glowing bright red in the dying sun, headlights sparkling like stars overhead, the structure marked the last portal into open water. In less than ten minutes, they’d be officially on their way.

But to where?

Key West was their destination, but after Jessie’s little display on deck, Leo wasn’t entirely certain where they were going to end up.

Her kiss had knocked his carefully constructed plan overboard. He’d meant to take things slowly and make every minute of their thirty-hour voyage count. He stocked the galley with sensual foods he knew she’d once loved—caviar and lobster and strawberries with chocolate. He’d filled the wine cooler with several tasty vintages and made sure there was lots of bottled water on hand so they didn’t become dehydrated in the sun. He’d slid the silkiest sheets he could find onto the bed and filled the drawers of the master stateroom with playful items such as scarves, feathers and even an assortment of flavored massage oils. He’d expected to have to coax her into making love with him again, but after her bold and demanding kiss, he wondered if they’d run out of condoms before they reached the island.

“Everything going okay?”

Jessie came around the deck and slid her hands up a line while leaning provocatively forward.

He smirked. She was pulling out all the stops and though he didn’t know why, he wasn’t entirely sure he cared about her motivation as long as the outcome was the same.

“Glorious. Sunsets like this are why we live here.”

“I’m kind of surprised you still do,” she replied, swinging underneath the taut cords and landing on a seat near the stairs that led below deck. She braced her foot on the wheel shaft, high enough for him to see a flash of something dark between her thighs.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the image before he lost control.

“Why? I was born and raised here like you.”

She shrugged. “I guess I figured you’d move to the Caribbean or Aruba or somewhere since you go there all the time to sail.”

“I didn’t know you kept up with my itineraries,” he remarked.

She frowned, but didn’t reply.

“They’re great places to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live anywhere but here.”

“And yet you bought the house in the Keys.”

He cleared his throat. “It’s still Florida.”

Nostalgia had gotten the best of him when the real-estate agent had called and offered him the impressive five-bedroom house after the owner passed away and his heirs had no use for a summer getaway. Leo had snapped it up. At first, he’d used the place for trials of his newest sailboat designs, but memories of his lost love affair with Jessie turned the place hollow and empty and cold. He’d moved his base of operations to St. Thomas, accepting that while he was still hopelessly in love with Jessie, he didn’t need to wallow in it.

When Coop had contacted him a week ago about his and Bianca’s imminent return to the States, Leo finally had the excuse he needed to lure Jessie back to where they’d first made love.

Now here he was, headed out to sea with her on his favorite boat, and he was sweating like a virgin about to make it with the hottest girl in school.

Jessie glanced down the shadowed stairs that led below deck. “What’s down there?”

“Galley. Stateroom. Head. A nice study I designed so I can work. Go explore.”

Her mouth twisted while she considered his offer, but then she settled more snugly on the seat across from him. “I’d rather watch you. Manipulating that wheel makes your biceps bulge.”

He couldn’t help but glance at his arms, which were indeed pumped up. Most of his sail trips were not as leisurely as this one. When on land, he and his crew had to remain in tip-top shape. The rigors of international yachting competitions forced him to keep his body healthy and strong. Impressing the ladies was just a side effect.

However, if Jessie insisted on being impressed.

“You should see me with my shirt off,” he countered, winking.

She raised an eyebrow.

He laughed and checked his instruments. They’d cleared the bridge. Though night was falling, he planned to remain on engine power for a while, then open up the sails for a quick run before they anchored for the evening. He could, of course, sail through the darkness, sleeping only in short intervals to arrive in Key West more quickly, but if he was going to lose Z’s, he’d do it for better reasons than a faster trip.

She cleared her throat.

“What?” he asked.

“You said I should see you with your shirt off. I’m waiting.”

“I was teasing.”

She leaned forward and he could see her cleavage glistening from the humid warmth of the night. “So keep teasing. I can take it. Can you?”

He narrowed his eyes, but despite the darkening skies, he could see that she wasn’t kidding. Maybe she’d figured out his plan to seduce her and thought turning the tables might keep him from pushing her too far. Well, she was mistaken. He secured the wheel and tore his shirt over his head, then tossed it below.

He speared her with a challenging stare.

She whistled appreciatively.

“You didn’t exaggerate,” she said.

“I didn’t need to.”

“You never did lack self-confidence.”

He chuckled. “You mean I’m an arrogant bastard.”

“It’s part of your charm.”

“Too big of a part,” he murmured. Maybe if he hadn’t had such a superior big head, he might have realized that Jessie wasn’t going to forgive him for slamming some chick when he and Jessie were supposed to have been in love.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, standing and winding her way behind him. “I kind of always loved your big parts.”

JESSIE COULD RESIST no longer. She’d tried to play it hot and cool at the same time, but the only result was a cruel and torturous tingle in places she’d forgotten existed. The lace of the thong she wore underneath her micro-mini chafed against her labia, which had swollen with undeniable want. Her fingers itched to feel Leo’s skin against hers again, so without stopping herself, she spread her hands around Leo’s waist and smoothed her palms against his bare belly.

“Jessie.”

His voice was ragged and deep, full of both warning and surprise and surrender.

“Muscles like these can’t be appreciated just by sight,” she said, sidling closer. “They need to be experienced firsthand.”

She pressed her breasts against his back. Her nipples instantly hardened at the contact, even through her shirt and bra. She slid her hands up his rock-hard abs to his protruding pecs, gasping when her palms razed through his chest hair. “You didn’t used to be this solid.”

Despite the sound of the wind and the waves, she heard him swallow thickly.

“You would know.”

“Yeah, I would,” she agreed, her hands drifting down so that her thumbs flicked over his rough male nipples. “I knew your body better than I knew my own. You have a scar …” She paused while she did a tactile search for the puckered skin just slightly below his waist on the right-hand side. “Yeah, there it is.”

His jeans were slung low on his hips, but to reach any farther, she’d have to unbuckle and unzip. So she did.

“Jessie,” he said with a gasp.

“Shh,” she insisted.

She didn’t need him to hesitate. She was operating on pure adrenaline and desire, with no thoughts or rationales to stop her from touching him again. The lights from the nearby beach were shining, but the glare hardly reached them. No other boats were in the immediate area. For all intents and purposes, they were alone.

She’d embarked on this adventure in order to erase the memories of her long-ago doomed affair with Leo. He had haunted every single relationship she’d had since him. No man was quite like Leo; no lover ever made her quite as hot. She’d fallen asleep too many nights imagining what might have been if some stalker girl hadn’t snuggled into his bed.

Now the games were over. She could put the question to rest, once and for all. What if she and Leo hooked up again?

The answer was obvious—they’d make love.

With a quick snap and a rasp of a zipper that rent the air like a gunshot, she had access to him in ways she hadn’t for over a decade.

He was hard beneath her hand and the minute she ran a finger over the tip of his head, her sex clenched with need. Oh, to feel him inside her again. Her body wept with anticipation. But for now, she just wanted to feel him. Make him mad with wanting.

“Jessie, you shouldn’t—”

“Shouldn’t what?” she asked, tugging down his jeans and boxers enough to give her room to work. “You’ve wanted me since the moment you saw me tonight. We’re out here alone. No one to answer to. What did you used to say? There was no room for regrets on a cramped boat in the middle of the sea?”

He groaned. Maybe he remembered how he’d waxed philosophically back in the day and maybe he didn’t. But she couldn’t forget. No matter how hard she’d tried, even his words wouldn’t go away.

She rubbed her breasts against him, invigorated by the sensation of her body against his.

“Do you know what I’m wearing underneath this skirt, Leo? Black panties. Lace. Remember the crotchless ones you gave me back in college? From Frederick’s of Hollywood? We didn’t make it out of the mall parking lot before you’d ripped them off.”

His cock grew beneath her touch. He was so thick and hard and round. Her mouth dried. Salt from the breeze coated her lips and when she licked them, she wondered if his skin would have the same tangy flavor. Oh, she wanted to take him into her mouth, but she couldn’t go too far, too fast. They had an entire trip to Key West to indulge in sensual delights they’d denied themselves for far too long. Instead of surrendering, she tightened her fingers and increased her tempo. She kissed his back and dipped her other hand lower to caress his balls.

“Yeah,” he gasped. “I remember. I remember I had to rip them off you to taste you. The slit wasn’t big enough for what I liked to do to you with my tongue. Licking you from stem to stern. Toggling your clit with my teeth until you—”

If she hadn’t been leaning full against him, she might have stumbled. His words had conjured an instant response, and sweet fluid trickled on her inner thigh. She tugged harder and faster on his erection until he was the one exploding with hot moisture. He sagged forward, his arms hooked over the wheel. He kept them on course with his weight while Jessie stepped back, both shocked and exhilarated by what she’d done.

And yet, before he could say anything, she dashed down below deck and found the head. She locked herself in the surprisingly tiny room, which triggered a dim, gold light. Her image in a mirror above the sink gave her a start. Even in the half light, she couldn’t mistake what she saw in her eyes.

Arousal. Need. A rush she had not experienced in far too long.

She turned on the faucet, washed her hands and then splashed her neck with fresh water. The icy drops trickled down her shirt, making the stiffness of her nipples more arduous to endure. Oh, to have his tongue on her again. Inside her again.

His knock made her jump.

“Jessie?”

“I’m just cleaning up,” she said, her voice pitched with nerves.

“You sure? Or are you hiding?”

She spun and opened the door, nearly knocking herself senseless in the cramped space. Not that she had much sense to begin with. Not after what she’d just started.

He’d abandoned his jeans and boxers and was standing in front of her in all his naked glory. She expected him to be lax and spent, but on the contrary, his erection stood at attention like the enduring soldier she knew it to be.

“I’m done hiding from you,” she countered.

“Good,” he said, taking her by the upper arm and pulling her flush to him. “Because now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go.”




6


WITH ANY OTHER WOMAN, Leo might have tried to hide how he was shaking, how perspiration had begun to form above his bottom lip and how breathing came with a heavy price. But not with Jessie. He needed her to know, needed her to see—needed her to accept how she rocked him to his core.

He released her only so he could open the door to the master stateroom and gesture her inside. She headed as far to the opposite wall as she could. The cabin was spacious by nautical standards, but not so large otherwise. From across the room, he watched her suckle her bottom lip with her teeth. He should have interpreted it as a sign of her anxiety. He should back off. But damn if all he could think about was her applying those straight white biters to parts of his body.

“Shouldn’t you be driving the boat or something?” she asked, crossing her arms tight across her chest.

“Yeah, I should,” he conceded, grabbing a pair of swim shorts out of a drawer near the door, but not putting them on. He had a raging erection and he wanted her to understand that they weren’t through. Not by a long shot. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to look around? See what exactly we have at our disposal. Get comfortable. Then we’ll … talk.”

She tilted her chin upward before speaking, which only emphasized her erect nipples beneath her peachy tank top. “I didn’t come on this excursion to be comfortable. Or to talk.”

His whole body tightened at the sound of her defiance and the flash of fire in her dark eyes. So she had thought this through and wasn’t acting purely on instinct. She was attempting to turn the tables on him—and so far, she was doing a damned solid job.

“Well, that’s good, then, because if comfort was what I wanted, I would have stayed as far away from you as humanly possible,” he said. “Yet here I am, holed up with you on the open water and still feeling the pressure of your hand on my dick.”

“Don’t be crude,” she admonished, but without much conviction.

He chuckled. Jessie was a lot of things, but a prude she was not.

“I’m just being honest. Maybe if you can manage the same, we’ll both get exactly what we came for.”

He left and shut the door behind him. He banged against the cabin wall as he hopped into his trunks, then went back up on deck. He wasn’t exactly floating on air. Despite the fact that she’d given him a hand job unlike any other, his body seemed weighted with lead. Or more accurately, heavy with the power Jessie held over him after all these years.

He still wanted her. He’d devised this entire excursion on that premise. He’d had no illusions about the fact that she owned him body, mind and soul. What he hadn’t expected, however, was for her to take advantage of her position of power so soon into the trip.

After releasing the wheel back to his command, he checked their location on the GPS system and corrected their course so they’d reach their destination: the relatively shallow water off a small protected island about an hour away, if he unfurled the sails. Suddenly desperate for something to do that would kill his focus on what Jessie had just done to him—and what he planned to do to her in return—he set to work. In no time, the mainsail billowed with what might seem like a soft breeze to anyone but a seasoned sailor. Soon they were listing slightly port and gliding over the water at just over six knots.

Not surprisingly, Jessie came up on deck a few minutes later. She’d wrapped herself in his yellow windbreaker and though she remained in the companionway, she tilted her head into the breeze so her hair whipped out behind her.

“I could have helped,” she said.

“I needed some time.”

She turned, holding her hair back while her dark eyes sought his. “I know the feeling.”

“I only took ten minutes, not ten years,” he shot back.

She groaned. “Are we really going to talk about this now?”

“When would be a better time, Jess? Because I’ve spent the last decade letting you set the timetable, allowing you to make all the rules. When you didn’t want me around, I wasn’t around. Then, when you had no choice but to hang out with me, I kept things cool and impersonal.”

“You call flirting with me constantly ‘cool and impersonal'?”

He bit the inside of his mouth, but his grin would not be squelched. “Can I help it if you’re impossible to resist?”

She sighed and took the last step out of the hatch. “Apparently, so are you.”

She took a turn around the deck and then settled atop the cabin roof, which was only about eight inches higher than the deck. She faced the bow and leaned back on her elbows so that all he could see of her was his bright yellow jacket, her hair flapping behind her and one bare knee drawn up to her body, taunting him with her tanned skin.

They sailed in silence until Leo reached his first planned stop, secured the sails and then dropped anchor. There were no other boats in the immediate area. The island, overgrown with mangroves and teeming with nesting birds, was off-limits and therefore wild with sound. The coastal shoreline, less than a half a mile away, was dark except for the glow of the moon against the sparkling white sand. Once Leo had the boat moored, the gentle rocking of the Gulf against the hull became soothing. He closed his eyes and allowed the water to lull him into a place of unsurpassed peace.

Until he heard Jessie unzipping his jacket.

Still sitting atop the cabin roof behind him, Jessie took her time removing the yellow material. Her skin glistened in the moonlight and, despite her natural olive skin tone, contrasted against her dark lingerie. She must have abandoned her clothes below. He ached at the lost opportunity to peel away that luscious peach top and tiny white skirt.

Not that he’d complain.

“Did you like how I stocked the boat?” he asked, his voice choked raw with lust.

She laughed and unfurled a ribbon of condoms from just inside the cup of her bra. “Kind of cocky on your part, to pack so many condoms and buy out the entire stock of the sex toy shop. Or do you have a constant supply so you can screw every girl you bring on board this boat?”

Her raunchy language didn’t shock him nearly as much as what he was about to admit out loud. “I’ve never brought any other woman on board The Sweetheart before. Not unless she was on my crew. And I make it a rule to never screw any of my crew.”

Still seated, Jessie leaned forward and spread her legs—not wide, so that the move was blatant and vulgar, but enough so she could lean forward on her elbows and give him a mindspinning view of her cleavage.

“But you’ll do me?”

He hadn’t realized he was shaking his head until he watched her expression turn from expectation to confusion. “Do you want me to ‘do you'?”

“Why do you think I’m sitting here in a black lace bra and thong? I remember what you like, Leo. I’ve dressed the part. I’m ready, willing and able. So let’s get this over with.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

For a split second, he was just as surprised by his response as she was.

“I’m not going to have sex with you, Jessie. However, I do plan to make love to you at the first opportunity.”

She snorted. “That’s impossible. To ‘make love,’ the people involved have to actually love each other. I don’t love you.”

With concerted effort, he suppressed a smirk. “Are you entirely sure about that?”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I stopped loving you a long time ago. Remember? When you boned that random chick and claimed you thought she was me?”

“I did—” he shot back, but then stopped. This wasn’t the time for excuses. Stirring up that nest of hornets was not what this weekend was supposed to be about. “That was a long time ago. I’m talking about here. Now.”

“Okay.”

She stood and walked across the deck like a Victoria’s Secret runway model.

His chest clenched and blood rushed south. She glanced at the tenting material at his crotch and her smile was cat-in-the-cream.

“Hard to hide what you want in those shorts. Why don’t we just get rid of them? That way, you’re not fooling anyone, least of all me.”

While divesting him of his shorts, she dropped to her knees in front of him. She then took her sweet time straightening up, running her hands on either side of his legs as she rose and making sure her warm breath blew across his hard, engorged flesh before she stood and arched her back so that he couldn’t rip his gaze from her tantalizing breasts.

“There. Now I know you still want me and, not surprisingly, I want you, too. I mean, you’ve kept yourself in incredible shape,” she said, appreciatively moving her fingers over his chest. “A chance to have a sexual blast from the past is too tempting to pass up.”

Without wanting to, he was leaning down, his mouth watering in anticipation of tasting her again, touching her again, loving her again. His hands hovered near her waist. He was certain that if he didn’t make just the right moves, he might have sex with her but he’d lose his chance of ever winning back her heart.

“And that’s all you want?” he asked. “Hot sex with an old flame?”

She brushed her lace-covered breasts against his chest, a tiny moan escaping her lips before she muttered, “Essentially.”

“Well, essentially,” he said, grasping her upper arms and staring down into her eyes until he saw them widen with what he hoped was a mixture of alarm and excitement, “I’ve never stopped loving you. So why don’t I just love you enough for both of us and see if I can’t remind you about more than just how I can make you come?”

He didn’t give her time to protest or reply, but covered her mouth with his. Sensations shot through him as her lacy underwear came into full contact with his skin. She pressed her palms against his chest, but he walked her backward until he’d draped her across the low roof of the cabin, then lowered his body onto hers and trapped her hands above her head.

For this moment, he did not want any distractions from her wandering touch. He concentrated solely on the kiss. She thrust her tongue hard against his, suckling wildly and breathing hard, but he refused to meet her frantic pace, no matter how he strained to thrust inside her.

He had at least eight hours of pleasurable opportunities until daybreak and, depending on the weather as they sailed south to Key West, more time after that to enjoy every sensual delight imaginable on a luxurious sailing vessel with the woman of his dreams. From the beginning, this trip had been planned and executed with the express purpose of reminding Jessie about how good they were together. But now he realized that the sex wouldn’t be enough.

Sex between them had always been amazing. Neither of them virgins, even their first time had been mind-blowing. It was as if they’d been designed for each other. His body fit hers. Her needs jibed completely with his. Sexual compatibility had coaxed them through the rough patches of getting to know one another and as a result, they’d fallen madly in love.

So madly, he’d put the pieces in motion for ultimate destruction. He’d gone too far, too fast—and had, in circumstances he’d regret until his dying day, ruined the love of a lifetime.

His mistakes had cost him ten years of being without the woman he loved. What would it cost him this time if he repeated his actions and pushed too hard? Moved too quickly?

No, his goal for the weekend had to change. Now that she’d made it clear seduction would be no challenge, it was time to up the stakes.

It wouldn’t be enough to make her come.

No, he was going to have to make her beg.




7


NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS would Jessie have thought Leo could exercise such unbreakable self-control. She was pushing him to the limits, and still he would not hurry up and get things done. She’d kissed him senseless, dragging her tongue along the ridge of his teeth the way he liked. She’d writhed her breasts against his chest until her nipples were raw beneath her lacy demi-bra. In a last-ditch effort, she wrapped her legs around his waist and mercilessly ground her sex against his.




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