The Hot-Blooded Groom
The Hot-Blooded Groom
Emma Darcy
“I want you, Sunny York.”
Bryce cupped her face in his hands as he continued, “I’d marry you right this minute if I could.” His eyes blazed into hers, commanding her full attention.
Bryce’s desire for her sizzled into Sunny’s bloodstream, bringing a vibrancy that reenergized her whole body.
“Then I will…I will marry you, Bryce,” she heard herself say, as though the words were drawn from a place she was barely conscious of, yet she knew even as she said them, she wouldn’t take them back.
This is Australian author Emma Darcy’s 75th Harlequin Presents
novel. Her intense, passionate, fast-paced writing style has made Emma Darcy hugely popular with readers: she’s sold nearly 60 million copies of her books worldwide. Emma is also the author of the international bestseller The Secrets Within, published by MIRA
Books.
The Hot-Blooded Groom
Emma Darcy
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
‘I WANT you married.’
Bryce Templar gritted his teeth. It wasn’t the first time his father had made this demand. Undoubtedly it wouldn’t be the last, either. But he hadn’t come out of his way to visit the old man, still convalescing from his recent heart operation, to have another argument about his bachelor state.
He kept his gaze trained on the view, ignoring the contentious issue. The sun was setting, adding even more brilliant shades of colour to the stunning red rocks of Sedona. His father’s winter residence was certainly sited to capture one of the most striking panoramas nature had to offer, here in the Arizona desert. And of course, communing with nature was another thing Will Templar preached—spiritual peace, clean air, clean living…
‘Are you hearing me, boy?’
Bryce unclenched his jaw and slid his father a derisive look. ‘I’m not a boy, Dad.’
‘Still acting like one,’ came the aggressive grumble. ‘Here you are with your hair going grey and you’re not settled with a woman yet.’
‘I’m only thirty-four. Hardly over the hill. And you went grey in your thirties. It’s genetic.’
It wasn’t the only physical aspect of his father he’d inherited. They were both well over six feet tall, big men, though his father had lost quite a bit of weight over the past year and was looking somewhat gaunt in the face. They had the same strong nose, the same determined mouth, closely set ears, and while his father’s hair was now white, it was still as thick as his own.
The only feature he’d inherited from his mother was her eyes—heavier lidded than his father’s and green instead of grey. Will Templar’s eyes had been described in print as steely and incisive, but right now they were smoking at Bryce with irritable impatience.
‘I was married to your mother in my twenties.’
‘People married earlier in those days, Dad.’
‘You’re not even looking for a wife.’ He shook an admonishing finger. ‘You think I don’t hear about your bed-hopping with starlets in L.A.? Getting laid indiscriminately doesn’t sit well with me, son.’
Bryce barely stifled a sigh as he thought, Here comes the clean living lecture. ‘I don’t bed-hop and I’m not indiscriminate in my choice of playmate,’ he bit out. Hoping to avoid a diatribe on morals, he added, ‘You know how busy I am. I just don’t have the time to put into a relationship what women want out of it.’
It brought his father up from his lounger in a burst of angry energy. ‘Don’t tell me women don’t want marriage. They all want marriage. It’s not difficult to get a woman to say yes to that. And I’m living proof of it with five wives behind me.’
All of them walking away with a bundle, Bryce thought cynically. Except his mother who died before she’d got around to divorce. The billion dollar empire of Templar Resources could absorb the cost of hundreds of wives. It just so happened Bryce didn’t like the idea of being taken for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow ride.
If a woman wanted him…fine. Especially if he wanted her. But the occasional pleasure in bed did not warrant a gold ring and a gold passport to a hefty divorce settlement. Apart from which, he certainly didn’t need the aggravation of a demanding wife. He much preferred a walkaway situation.
‘You get married, Bryce, or I’ll put Damian in control of business, right over your head. Make him CEO until you do get a wife. That will free up your time,’ his father threatened.
‘And give you another heart attack when he messes up,’ Bryce mocked, knowing his half-brother’s limited vision only too well.
‘I mean it, boy! Time’s slipping by and I’m feeling my mortality these days. I want to see you married, and married soon. With a grandchild on the way, too. Within a year. Just get out there and choose a wife. You hear me?’
He was going red in the face. Concerned about his father’s blood pressure, Bryce instantly set aside the argument. ‘I hear you, Dad.’
‘Good! Then do it! And find a woman like your mother. She had a brain, as well as being beautiful.’ He sank back onto the cushions of the lounger, taking quick shallow breaths. The high colour gradually receded. ‘Worst day of my life when your mother died.’
Bryce couldn’t remember it. He’d only been three years old. What he remembered was the succession of stepmothers who had waltzed into and out of his childhood and adolescence.
‘Got to think of the children,’ his father muttered. ‘Damian’s mother was a featherhead. Charming, sexy, but without a thought worth listening to.’ His eyes closed and his voice dropped to a mumble. ‘Damian’s a good boy. Not his fault he hasn’t got your brain. At least he’s guidable.’
Watching fatigue lines deepen on his face, making him look older than his sixty years, Bryce was troubled by the thought there was more to his father’s remark on feeling his mortality than he was letting on. Just how bad was his heart condition?
While they’d had this argument over marriage before, there’d never been a time-frame stipulated.
Within a year.
And the threat about Damian—empty though it was—added more weight to the demand, carrying a measure of desperation.
The sun had slipped below the horizon as they’d talked. The massive red rocks were darkening with shadows. Nothing stayed the same for long, Bryce reflected, and if time was running out for his father…well, why not please him by getting married?
It shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
He wouldn’t let it be.
CHAPTER TWO
SUNNY YORK’s heart did not leap with joy when she spotted her fiancé shoving through the crowd of delegates waiting to enter the conference room. His appearance sent a shudder of distaste down her spine and she found herself gritting her teeth as a host of blistering criticisms clamoured to be expressed.
It was the last day of the conference, the last day to try and smooth over the bad impressions he’d made on others, and the most important day for her, which Derek knew perfectly well. And he turned up like this?
She shook her head in disgust, thinking of how early she had risen this morning, determined on presenting a perfect, go-getting image. It had taken an hour to get her unruly mane of rippling curls under reasonable control, carefully blow-drying out any tendency to frizz and ensuring the whole tawny mass of it looked decently groomed. Her make-up was positive without being overdone, and her sharp yellow suit was a statement of vibrant confidence.
There was absolutely nothing sharp about Derek. His suit looked rumpled, as though he’d dropped it on the floor and dragged it on again. His eyes were bloodshot, he’d nicked his chin shaving, and he was obviously in no state to get anything out of the morning session. She actually bristled with rejection as he hooked his arm around hers.
‘Made it,’ he said, as though it were an achievement she should be grateful for.
Never mind that he’d broken every arrangement for them to spend private time together. Turning up for her sales presentation did not make up for treating her like nothing all week. And turning up like this was the last straw to Sunny.
Her sherry-brown eyes held no welcoming warmth as she tersely replied, ‘I expected to see you at breakfast.’
He leaned over confidentially. ‘Had it at the roulette table. Free drinks, free food all night. They sure look after you at these casinos and I was running hot.’
Sunny’s heart felt very cold. ‘I’m amazed you tore yourself away.’
He grimaced as though she was acting like a pain to him. ‘Don’t nag. I’m here, aren’t I?’
Four days they’d been in Las Vegas and he’d been gambling every spare minute, even skipping conference sessions when he thought he could get away with it. ‘I take it the hot run ended,’ she bit out, barely controlling a fiery flash of temper at his criticism of her attitude.
‘Nope. I won a packet,’ he slurred smugly. ‘But I happened to see the big man come in last night and if he’s showing this morning…’
‘What big man?’ she snapped, losing all patience with him.
‘The head of the whole shebang. Bryce Templar himself. He dropped into the L.A. conference last year to give us a pep talk, remember?’
Sunny remembered. The CEO of Templar Resources was the most gorgeous hunk she’d ever seen, almost a head taller than she was and with a big muscular frame that telegraphed all man to her, eminently lust-worthy, but so far beyond her reach, he was strictly dream material.
She hadn’t heard a word he’d said at L.A. She’d sat in the audience, imagining how it might be in bed with all that strong maleness being driven by the charismatic energy he was putting out in his address to them.
His father had founded Templar Resources, back in 1984, and it was now the largest networking company in the world, producing and servicing software in most languages. Obviously the son was building on that, not just inheriting his position, which added even more power to his sex appeal. On any male evolution scale he was definitely the top rung.
‘Guess he’ll do the same today,’ Derek babbled on. ‘Thought I’d better turn up for it.’
Sunny cast a severely jaundiced look at the man she’d cast in the future role of her husband and father to the family she wanted. Having seen her two younger sisters married and producing adorable babies, she’d become hopelessly clucky, and when Derek had walked into her life, he’d seemed the answer to her dreams.
Those dreams had received an awful lot of tarnishing this week, and right at this moment, the reminder of a man as powerfully impressive as Bryce Templar did nothing to shine them up again.
Derek was the same height as herself—if she wore flat heels—and quite handsome on better days when his blue eyes were clear and his face more alive. His dark blond hair was still damp from a very recent shower so the sun-bleached streaks weren’t showing so much this morning. He usually kept his rather lean physique toned up with sessions in the gym but he hadn’t been anywhere near the hotel’s health club this week.
All in all, he was much less a man in Sunny’s eyes than he’d been four days ago. Whether this gambling fever was a temporary madness or not, he’d completely lost her respect, and she’d hand him back his diamond ring right now, except it might cause a scene that she could do without in front of the other delegates whose respect she wanted when she gave her presentation in just another hour’s time.
Deeply disillusioned and angry with the assumption she would overlook everything, she unhooked her arm from Derek’s as they moved into the conference room and gave him a stony warning. ‘Don’t think you can lean on me if you fall asleep.’
‘Oooh, we are uptight, aren’t we?’ he mocked, looking uglier by the second. ‘Nervous about performing in front of the CEO?’
‘No. I just don’t want to prop you up,’ she grated.
‘Fine! Then I’ll sit at the back and you won’t have to worry about it,’ he sniped, sheering away from her side in a blatant huff.
Sunny walked on, rigidly ignoring him. No doubt a back-row seat suited Derek very well. If Bryce Templar didn’t show, he could easily slip outside and get on with his gambling. Though if he thought other people besides herself hadn’t noticed what was going on, he was a fool.
The managing director of the Sydney branch had already commented on his absence from conference sessions, as well as his failure to attend any of the social functions at night. Derek might be considered a top consultant but playing the corporate game was important, too. He was earning a big black mark here in Las Vegas, not only on a personal level, but a professional one, as well.
Still inwardly fuming over his behaviour, Sunny made her way to the very front row of tables in the auditorium, where she was entitled to sit as one of the presenters this morning. Having settled herself and greeted the other delegates in the team she’d been attached to all week, she did her best to push Derek’s disturbing behaviour out of her mind, concentrating on listening to the buzz about Bryce Templar’s arrival on the scene.
Had he come to announce some new technologies being developed by the company? Was he here to reward someone for outstanding performance? Speculation was running rife.
It ended abruptly as the man himself made his entrance, accompanied by the conference organisers. A hush fell over the room, attention galvanised on the CEO of Templar Resources. He took the podium without any introduction but whatever he said floated right over Sunny’s head.
From a purely physical viewpoint, she couldn’t help thinking that Bryce Templar had to have the best gene pool in the whole world, and if she could choose any one man to be the father of the baby she’d love to have, he would top the stud-list.
The woman in yellow kept attracting Bryce’s eye. She was the only spot of colour amongst a sea of grey and black business clothing. Since she was seated right at the front, he couldn’t miss seeing her, and as women went, she was definitely worth a second look.
Great hair. Lush wide mouth. Big dreamy eyes. A strong impression of warmth, which stayed with him as he left the podium, niggling at the bitterness his lawyer had stirred with the call about yet another change Kristen was demanding in the prenuptial agreement. His fiancée was fast dissipating any warmth he’d felt for her.
As he sat down at the official table with the conference organisers, he reflected on the black irony of having thought he’d picked the ideal wife. Kristen Parrish had enough beauty and brains to meet his father’s criteria, plus a very stylish career as an interior decorator, which meant she wouldn’t be hanging on having a husband dance attendance all the time. She had a business of her own to run. Which suited Bryce just fine.
The problem was, her sharp brain was proving to be one hell of a calculating machine, and Bryce fiercely resented the way she was manipulating the situation. Just one mention that he wanted a child, preferably within the first year of marriage, and she’d started using it as a bargaining chip to ensure she would always have funds to raise their child should the marriage fail. She was literally bleeding him for all she could get, and if it wasn’t for his father, he’d tell her to get lost.
Then she’d probably sue him for breach of promise.
And would he find anyone better?
His gaze flicked to the woman in yellow and caught her looking at him. Her head instantly jerked away, thick dark lashes swept down, and her cheeks bloomed with heat. Quite an amazing blush. She had to be in her late twenties or early thirties, and very committed to a career to be here at this conference. Hardly the shy type. She wouldn’t be wearing yellow if she was shy.
Her cheeks were still burning, lending even more vivid colour and warmth to her face. It was a very appealing, feminine face, finely boned, though not quite perfect with the slightly tip-tilted nose. Her hair drew his attention again, copper and corn colours tangled through a tousled riot of waves and curls, the thick mass of it falling from a centre parting and tumbling down over her shoulders. It looked…very touchable, unlike Kristen’s ice-blond sculptured bob.
He wondered what the woman in yellow would be like in bed, then put a firm clamp on those thoughts.
He’d made his bed.
Besides, would the woman in yellow prove any different to Kristen when it came to the money angle?
With a cynical shake of his head, Bryce reached for a glass of iced water. No point in getting heated about anyone he didn’t know…or Kristen’s greed.
His forthcoming marriage was a done deal. Almost a done deal. He didn’t have the time to settle with someone else. The doctors had told him it was a miracle his father was still alive and they were using experimental drugs to treat his condition. Such risky medication held out no guarantees, and Bryce didn’t want to delay giving what peace of mind this marriage might bring, at least in the short term.
No point in brooding over the outcome for himself, either. He’d flown to Vegas to hand out awards and get a feel of how the rank and file were dealing with the company products. His mission this morning was to listen and observe. Which he proceeded to do.
First up was a panel who role-played selling the concepts of particular products to customers who have no idea how they would work in business, or that they even existed to be used. Bryce was favourably impressed by their understanding and the concise way they focused on customer needs to adopt and apply more profitable business practices.
Next came a sample presentation to a company board level, delivered by a Business Development Manager from Sydney, Australia. The program noted that Sunny York had the enviable record of always achieving her quota of sales. Her…a woman? His interest piqued, Bryce waited curiously to assess why she was so successful.
The conference organiser finished his patter on her, raised his arm in a welcoming gesture, and in a typically hyped-up voice, announced, ‘Miss Sunny York.’
Up stood the woman in yellow!
She had a smile on her face that would captivate and dazzle even the hardest-headed financial directors. And she was tall—six feet tall, Bryce estimated—and more than half of that height was taken up by the longest legs he’d ever seen on a woman. He couldn’t help watching them as she stepped up to the podium. Her skirt ended above her knees but it wasn’t a mini. It simply looked like a mini on those legs, and she wasn’t even wearing high-heels, just comfortable court shoes with enough of a heel to look elegant.
His gaze travelled slowly upwards from her feet…what would it be like to have those long, shapely legs wrapped around him…the curvy cradle of her hips underneath him…plenty of cushion in those nicely rounded breasts, too…that mouth, so full-lipped and wide, made for sensual pleasure…and her hair tumbling everywhere.
‘Hi!’ She spread her smile and twinkling eyes around the audience, drawing everyone to her with a flow of warmth that sparked responding smiles. ‘I’m here to help you make money…and save money.’
She had them in her hand from that very first delivery and didn’t let them go for one second in the whole forty minutes of her presentation. It didn’t feel like a hard-sell. She came over as concerned to serve the customer’s very best interests, her voice carrying a very natural charm, allied to a mobility of expression which was almost mesmerising. The line of logic she injected into selling sounded so simple and convincing, she left no doubt this was a winning move, and her own positive energy literally generated positive energy through the whole auditorium.
Bryce found himself totally entranced.
Even her Australian accent was endearing.
Sunny…
He could certainly do with a bit of that sun in his life. A lot of it. All of it. His stomach clenched as his mind skidded to Kristen. He didn’t want a cool-headed calculator. Taking her as his wife went against every grain in his entire body…and that very same body was craving what Sunny York might give him.
His eyes feasted on her as she stepped down from the podium. He’d invite her to join him for lunch…test possibilities. Seize the day. Seize the night. A night with Sunny York would at least satisfy the compelling fantasies she’d been stirring, and if she was all she promised to be…
The flash of a diamond on her left hand pulled the hot run of thoughts up with a jolt. Bryce stared at the ring that declared Sunny York was engaged to be married, committed to another man, whom she probably loved. Her whole performance demonstrated she put her heart into everything she did. Heart and soul.
Bryce wasn’t used to feeling like a loser. It hit him hard, the sick hollowness following on the wild surge of excitement she had evoked in him. He sat back in his chair and grimly reviewed his options.
He might be able to seduce her away from her fiancé. Inducements marched through his mind…powerful attractions for most women. But if he did win her like that…would he still want her?
Give it up, man, he told himself savagely.
Kristen was ready and willing…so long as he paid the price she demanded. Which he could well afford.
Settle with her and be done with it.
CHAPTER THREE
SUNNY headed for the ground-floor casino, determined on having a showdown with Derek. He hadn’t come to the lunch—not even waiting outside the conference room to give her a courtesy comment on her presentation before skipping off—and he hadn’t shown for the last session, regardless of the fact that Bryce Templar had been giving out awards. His respect for the big man obviously hadn’t extended that far.
She didn’t like the casino floor. The assault on her ears from countless bell-ringing slot machines was horrific. It was bad enough walking through it. Actually spending hours here was beyond her understanding. Having finally located the roulette tables, she scanned them for Derek and was frustrated at not finding him. Could he have gone to bed—the need for sleep catching up with him?
Frowning, Sunny moved from foot to foot, too worked up to walk away with so much angst playing through her mind. She shot her gaze in every direction, not really expecting to resolve anything, simply at a loss to know what to do next. It came as a shock when she actually spotted Derek, seated at a blackjack table, watching the cards being played by the dealer with an intensity that cramped her heart.
He was caught in a thrall that nothing was going to break.
It seemed that nothing else mattered.
Sickened by the realisation of how destructively addictive gambling could be, Sunny hesitated over confronting Derek, yet the relationship they had shared up until this week demanded that he at least recognise how he was treating it. The need to get through to him drove her over to the blackjack table. She waited until he threw down his cards in disgust, apparently having lost his bet, then tapped him on the shoulder.
‘Derek…’
He sliced an impatient frown at her.
‘…could I speak to you, please?’
‘Can’t you see I’m playing?’
‘It’s important.’
Grimacing at the interruption, he heaved himself off his chair and tipped the back of it onto the edge of the table to hold his place. ‘What’s so damned important?’ he demanded, his bleary eyes snapping with frustration.
‘It’s the last night…’
‘I’ve just lost the roll I won at roulette. My luck’s got to turn…’
‘Derek, we’ve got seats for the Jubilee show. And dinner beforehand.’
‘The action is here. I’m not leaving it.’
‘Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?’ she cried, trying to get through the obsessive glaze to some grain of perspective on what he was doing.
The personal tack clearly irritated him. ‘I sat through your presentation. You slayed ’em as you always do. Is that what you want to hear?’ he said ungraciously, then waved a sharp dismissal as he added, ‘If you’re hot to go and watch some showgirl extravaganza, fine. But as you just pointed out, this is our last night here and I want to win my money back.’
‘And what if you don’t? What if you lose more?’
He looked shifty.
‘Derek, just how much have you lost already?’
Feverish need flashed at her. ‘I’ll win it back. It’s only a matter of time.’
An icy fear struck her. ‘Have you been gambling on credit?’
‘That’s my business. We’re not married yet.’
No sharing. No desire to share. Complete shut-out. Hurt and disappointment held her silent for a moment as she realised beyond any doubt that there could be no happy future for them. A bitter urge to show him what he’d done, how low he had fallen, had her wrenching the diamond ring off her finger.
‘Here!’ She held it out to him. ‘You can pawn it. Get some more money to throw down the drain.’
It rocked him. ‘Now look here, Sunny…’
‘No. Try looking at yourself, Derek. It’s over for me.’
‘Well, if you feel that way…’ His eyes glittered as he took the ring. ‘You’ll change your mind when I win a bundle.’
He was unreachable on any level. ‘I won’t change my mind. We’re through, Derek,’ she said with absolute finality.
His gaze had dropped to the diamond in his hand, and Sunny had the gut-wrenching impression he was assessing what he could get for it. Her eyes blurred—all the inner torment of hopes and dreams being just swept away suddenly catching her by the throat. For their eight-month-long relationship to come to this…
She swung away, swallowing hard to stop herself from bursting into tears and making a spectacle of herself. Her legs moved automatically, driven by the need to get out of the casino, out of this dreadful playground which trapped people and drained them of any soul she could relate to.
The slot machines jangled around her, a cacophony of sound that seemed to mock her misery. She completely lost her bearings, not knowing what direction led to an exit. A moment’s enforced reasoning told her to head for the hotel’s reception desk from where the lobby was definitely in view.
It was such a relief to break free of the vast gambling area, tears swam into her eyes again. This time she simply put her head down and followed the walkway to the lobby, hoping not to run into anyone who knew her.
The limousine was waiting. His plane was waiting to fly him back to L.A. Kristen was waiting for him to return to her, no doubt ready to sweeten her prenuptial demands with how well she would accommodate his needs. Bryce Templar told himself that what he’d just witnessed didn’t change anything, but still he lingered in the lobby, watching Sunny York.
She’d taken off the diamond ring.
The man she’d handed it to wasn’t following her.
Her haphazard flight from what was clearly a distressing scene had finally been checked and she was heading towards him. Not consciously. She hadn’t seen him. She wasn’t seeing anything except the floor stretching ahead of her.
‘Your bag is in the car, sir,’ the bellhop informed him.
He nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the long beautiful legs of Sunny York, walking her towards him. The memory of her warm vibrancy played havoc with his usual cool decision-making processes. Here was opportunity. The guy at the blackjack table was one hell of a big loser and that loss was right in front of Bryce to be capitilised upon. The urge to do so was more compelling than any urge he’d had for a long time.
She was free.
He wasn’t, Bryce sternly reminded himself. Kristen was wearing his ring. But not a wedding ring yet. And before he could have any further second thoughts, a fierce surge of highly male instincts moved him to intercept Sunny York’s path to the exit doors.
‘Miss York…’
Legs were planted in front of her—the legs of a big man—and that voice…her heart quivered as a weird certainty crashed through the daze of misery in her mind. Bryce Templar was addressing her. Bryce Templar!
Her feet faltered, hesitating over making a wild sidestep to escape him. Even blinking furiously, she couldn’t hide the moisture in her eyes. Impossible to face him…yet impossible not to. A man like Bryce Templar would not be snubbed. Not by an employee of his company.
‘I was looking for you after the awards presentation,’ he said purposefully.
It surprised her into raising her gaze to his. ‘Looking for me?’ His eyes were green, pouring out interest in her, and despite her embarrassment, Sunny found she couldn’t look away.
He smiled. ‘You impressed me very much this morning.’
At the vivid memory of how he had impressed her, heat whooshed up her neck and scorched her cheeks. It reduced her to total speechlessness.
‘You have a remarkable gift for selling,’ he went on.
Somehow she managed to get her mouth around, ‘Thank you.’
‘I wondered if I could interest you in a proposition.’
Like having a baby with me?
Sunny blushed even more furiously at that terribly wayward thought. Her mind was hopelessly out of control. Bryce Templar had to be talking about a business proposition, which was stunning in itself…the big man thinking she had a special talent for sales.
‘Were you on your way somewhere?’ he asked.
Realising her gauche manner was probably putting him off—putting Bryce Templar off!—Sunny tried desperately to adjust to this totally unexpected situation.
‘I…I was just going for a walk. Out of the hotel. We’ve been closeted inside all day…’
‘Yes, of course,’ he said understandingly. ‘I’ll walk with you. If you’ll just excuse me a few moments while I rearrange my schedule…’ He smiled again, showering her with warm approval. ‘…I would like to talk to you.’
She nodded, completely dumbstruck at the prospect of strolling down the street, accompanied by Bryce Templar. Her whole body started tingling as she watched him stride over to the concierge’s desk. He was rearranging his schedule to be with her! It was incredible, world-shaking.
Green eyes…she hadn’t been close enough to see their colour before. They gave his face an even more striking character. Or so it seemed to her.
She watched him command the concierge’s attention. He would naturally command attention anywhere, Sunny thought, even without the weight of his name and position. His height, the breadth of his shoulders, the sheer physical authority of the man, drew the gaze of everyone around him.
For once in her life, Sunny had the uplifting feeling of her own tallness ceasing to be a burden that had to be bypassed in her reaching out to others. She was short enough to hold her head high next to Bryce Templar without diminishing his sense of stature in any shape or form. Not that her height would be of any concern to him—a man of his power—but it was a relief to her not to feel conscious of it.
He made some quick calls on a cell phone, then spoke again to the concierge. Sunny was grateful for the time to pull herself together. A business proposition, he’d said, which was what she should be focusing on instead of letting foolish personal responses to him turn her into a blithering idiot. She had a future to consider…a future without Derek.
Yet when Bryce Templar turned back to her, his green eyes targeted her with an intensity that didn’t feel business-like at all. Sunny was instantly swamped with an acute awareness of being a woman, every feminine instinct she had positively zinging with the electric possibility that he found her worthy of mating with.
It blew her mind off any consideration of business. Her pulse was a wild drumbeat in her temples. Her stomach clenched at his approach. He stretched one arm out in a gathering-in gesture and some madness in her brain saw him naked and intent on claiming her. Then his other arm pointed to the exit doors and the crazy anticipation rocketing through her was countered by a blast of sanity.
A walk…
That was the sum of his invitation.
Somehow she pushed her shaky legs into walking.
Bryce Templar did not, in fact, touch her. A bellhop rushed to open the door. When they emerged from the hotel, the big man fell into step beside her and Sunny instinctively chose to turn right because he was on her left and bumping into him was unthinkable in her dreadfully hyped-up state with fantasies running riot.
‘Have you enjoyed being in Las Vegas?’
It was a perfectly natural question but his voice seemed to purr in her ear, heightening her awareness of him. Sunny kept her gaze trained straight ahead, not trusting herself to look at him and keep sensible. Business, business, business, she recited frantically.
‘I haven’t really had much time to explore the city,’ she answered carefully. ‘The conference has been pretty much full-on. Which is what we’re here for,’ she quickly added in case it sounded like a criticism. ‘And I have learnt a lot.’
‘You apply what you know extremely well,’ he remarked admiringly.
She shrugged. ‘I like giving our customers the best deal I can.’
‘Well, you’ve certainly done an excellent job of serving Templar Resources.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
‘Oh, I think you’d be an asset to anyone, Miss York. Or may I call you Sunny?’
‘If you like,’ she gabbled, trying not to read too much into his charming manner.
‘It suits you. You project a warmth that makes everyone want to bask in it.’
He was projecting a warmth that was sending her dizzy. She was tempted to glance at him, to check the expression on his face, but didn’t quite dare. It was difficult enough to remain reasonably sensible when she was so affected by his close presence. If he caught her looking at him and held her gaze, she might melt into a mindless heap.
‘What do you wish to see on our walk?’ he asked pleasantly.
She had no plan. Her only thought had been to get out of the casino. ‘I…I just wanted…more of a feel for the city…before I leave.’
‘I suppose, in a way, you could call it a very romantic city…full of dreams.’
Shattered dreams if you’re a loser.
The flash of Derek was unwelcome, bringing with it the empty feeling of no marriage and no babies to look forward to. But she could never accept Derek as a husband or the father of her children now. It was definitely for the best that she’d found out what she would have been getting in him.
‘The re-creation of romantic cities in the newer hotels—Venice, Paris, New York. They’re quite fantastic facsimiles of the real thing,’ Bryce Templar remarked, continuing his romance comment. ‘Have you had a look at them?’
Sunny struggled to get her mind back on track with his. ‘The Venetian and Paris, yes. They’re amazing.’
‘Well, we’re walking in the right direction to see New York, New York. The Excalibur and the Luxor are further on beyond it. Very striking with their Medieval and Egyptian architectural themes.’
Suddenly struck by his indulgence towards what he perceived as her wishes, Sunny began seriously wondering what he wanted with her. Here he was, strolling along the Boulevard, playing guide to her tourist…what was it leading to? They reached an intersection and had to stop for the traffic lights to change. Taking a deep breath, and steeling herself to cope with the nerve-shaking magnetism of the man, Sunny turned to face him.
‘Your time must be valuable,’ she stated, her eyes quickly searching his for a true response.
‘Isn’t everyone’s?’ he replied.
‘Yes. But…’ She floundered as he smiled, showing obvious pleasure in her company.
‘You need to relax. So do I. Is there any reason we shouldn’t relax together?’
‘No,’ she answered breathlessly, her pulse going haywire at the realisation he was attracted to her, man to woman attraction. No mistake. No flight of fancy. The spark of sexual connection was in his eyes—the keen interest, the desire to know more, the hunter’s gleam that said she was worth pursuing and he meant to pursue.
‘Good!’ There was a wealth of satisfaction in that one simple word. He reached out and gently cupped her elbow. ‘The lights have changed. Let’s go with the flow.’
The flow Sunny felt had nothing to do with the stream of people crossing the street with them. She was barely aware of them. The hand lightly holding her arm had the mental force of a physical brand…like Bryce Templar was claiming possession of her, burning his ownership through the sleeve of her suit-coat and making her sizzle with possibilities she would not have believed in a few moments ago.
Bryce Templar…wanting her. She hadn’t been completely crazy back in the hotel lobby. But what did it mean to him? Was it his habit to pluck a woman out of a crowd—someone he fancied—and just go after her? It probably was that easy for a man like him. What woman would refuse the chance to…?
Shock stopped that thought from reaching its natural conclusion. Fanciful lusting was one thing. Real flesh-and-blood lusting was something else. Did she want to be a one-night stand for Bryce Templar, finishing off his trip to Las Vegas—a bit of relaxation, satisfying a sexual urge? Surely that was all it could be. She was an Australian, on her way back to Sydney tomorrow. An easy goodbye.
‘How would you feel about transferring to the U.S., Sunny?’
It startled her into a fast re-think. ‘You mean…leave Sydney…for here?’
‘Not here. Your base would be Los Angeles. Or New York. They hold our biggest operations.’
Business!
Was she hopelessly out of kilter, imagining the sexual stuff?
Totally confused, Sunny tried to come to grips with this new question. A career move…an upward career move…out of her own country.
‘Would you find that too much of a wrench?’ he asked quietly. ‘I realise it’s a big ask, particularly if you’re close to your family.’
Her family…Sunny almost groaned as she envisaged telling her mother and sisters she’d broken her engagement to Derek. No wedding. No marriage. No babies. She’d been a failure as a woman in their eyes for years and there she’d be, proving it again. Almost thirty and couldn’t find Mr. Right. Sympathy would be directed to her face, pity behind her back, and she’d hate every minute of it.
‘I have my own life to lead,’ she said on a surge of proud independence.
‘No family?’ he queried.
‘I have two married sisters and my mother is very involved with her grandchildren. My father died some years ago. I’d be missed…and I’d miss them…’ She flashed him a look of self-determination. ‘…but I would certainly consider an offer.’
Triumph glinted in his eyes. ‘Then I’ll make it as attractive as I can.’
Her heart jumped into another gallop. It wasn’t her imagination. This was highly personal. And he wanted her on hand for more than one night!
‘The package would include a generous travel allowance,’ he assured her. ‘Which will enable you to visit your family on a reasonably frequent basis.’
Behind her, music suddenly boomed out over loudspeakers. So dazed was Sunny by the revelation that Bryce Templar was very intent on getting her where he wanted her, she almost leapt out of her skin at the fanfare of trumpets, her head jerking around, half expecting to see a triumphal parade for the victory being planned in the green eyes.
‘It’s heralding the dance of the fountains at the Bellagio,’ Bryce informed her. ‘Come…it’s worth seeing.’
His arm went around her waist, sweeping her with him and holding her protectively as he steered her through the crowd gathering along the sidewalk to enjoy the promised spectacle. He didn’t push or shove. People simply gave way to him, standing back to let him and his companion through to a prime watching position against the Italian-style balustrade that edged the man-made lake in front of the Bellagio Hotel.
He stood half behind her, dropping his hand onto the balustrade on her far side to keep her encircled in the shelter of his arm, though no longer touching her. It was an extraordinary feeling—being protected and cared for by this big man. Sunny couldn’t help revelling in it. She was so used to fending for herself, it was wonderful to wallow in the sense of being a woman whose man was looking after everything for her, ensuring her pleasure.
Except he wasn’t actually her man. But could he be? In a very real sense? The very male solidity of the body so close to hers was real enough. So was her response to it. If she leaned back…made deliberate contact…what would happen?
Recognising the wanton recklessness in that temptation, Sunny held still, telling herself to wait for his moves. It ill behove her to instigate anything, especially when she wasn’t in his social league. She’d made a fool of herself, believing she could share her life with Derek. How big a fool might she be, reading far too much between the lines of Bryce Templar’s proposition?
A row of high water spouts started running right across the lake. Circles of fountains shot into the air. The music moved into the tune of ‘Big Spender’ and the high lines of water looped and swayed and bopped to the rhythm like a human chorus line, dancing to a choreography that required perfect timing.
It was an entrancing sight, yet the song being used struck a raw place in Sunny, reminding her this city revolved around gambling and all the lavish glamour, luxury and service were designed to draw people into big spending. Derek could very well be ruining himself here. Though the responsibility for that lay squarely with him, no one else.
Would she be ruining her life, impulsively linking it to whatever Bryce Templar wanted?
A gamble, she thought. A big gamble on a big man. An absolutely magnificent man who made her feel…exceedingly primitive.
The fountains whooshed high in a fabulous finale, then seemed to bow before gracefully dropping back under the surface of the lake, their dance over.
‘That was lovely,’ Sunny breathed, and with her eyes still sparkling appreciately, turned to look directly at the man who was fast infiltrating every aspect of her life. She realised instantly that his gaze had been fixed on her hair. It slid from the soft mass of waves to meet hers, transmitting a sensual simmering that caught what breath she had left in her throat. The rest of her words emerged as a husky whisper. ‘Thank you for showing it to me.’
For one electrifying moment he looked at her mouth. The blast of raw desire she felt emanating from him scrambled her mind. Her lips remained slightly parted, quivering in wanton anticipation.
Then he dragged his gaze back to hers, locking onto it with searing force as he murmured, ‘Your pleasure is my pleasure.’
Her breasts prickled. Her stomach clenched. A tremor of excitement ran down her thighs. Her only conscious thought, rising out of the raging desire he stirred was…
It was real…his wanting her…as real as her wanting him right back…and if she didn’t take this gamble she might be missing the experience of a lifetime.
CHAPTER FOUR
BRYCE only just managed to stop himself from kissing Sunny York right then and there. The desire to ravish the mouth she seemed to be offering him was totally rampant. Only a belated sense of where they were—on a public street with a crowd of tourists around them—gave him pause, and his brain seized the pause to flash a neon-bright danger signal.
He was out of control.
Even so the physical rebellion against the warning was sharp and intense. But being in control had ruled his life so long, his mind automatically equated that factor with success, and losing this woman with rash action at this point was unacceptable. She had been skittish up until now. Moving too fast might frighten her off. It wasn’t smart to assume too much too soon, not when so much was hanging on the outcome of one night with her.
Dumping Kristen.
Marrying Sunny York.
Persuading her into a pregnancy she might not want.
It was a huge leap for him to take. How much bigger for her, without his cogent reasons firing the impulse to take this alternative road?
He stepped back, gesturing a continuation of their stroll. ‘A little slice of New York awaits you up ahead.’
Her beautiful amber eyes reflected inner confusion. Her vulnerability to what he was doing smote his conscience for a moment. She was afloat from her broken engagement, undoubtedly wanting an escape from the hurt to both heart and pride, and he was ruthlessly intent on drawing her into his net.
But he would look after her and give her a life full of riches if she came his way.
With that soothing justification riding on the advantage he knew he was taking, Bryce slid into charm mode, offering a whimsical little smile as he sought to ease her personal turmoil with outside interests.
‘The Statue of Liberty, the Brooklyn Bridge, and the Empire State Building are somewhat scaled down since they’re merely dressing up a hotel, but very recognisable,’ he said encouragingly.
She gave her head a little shake, alerting Bryce even more forcefully to the danger of moving too fast. She’d have to be totally insensitive to miss the sexual signals he’d been giving out and he suspected she was all too aware of them, given the way she’d been evading looking at him and the tension emanating from her. Although part of that could have been the need to hide her distress over the guy she’d just broken with.
‘Have you had any first-hand experience of New York?’ he quickly asked, talking to re-establish a more comfortable connection for her.
‘Yes, but only a few days’ sightseeing.’ She hesitated, her eyes scanning his uncertainly. ‘Not…not business.’
‘What was your impression of it?’ he pressed, relieved when she stepped forward, indicating her willingness to go on with him.
‘It had an exciting energy…the sense of a lot happening.’ Her mouth curved into a musing smile. ‘Extra-wide sidewalks. Hot dogs, with an amazing range of choices for spicing them up. Delicatessens with exotic food. Caramel apples…’
He laughed. ‘You must really enjoy food.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Her smile turned lopsided. ‘My sisters accuse me of having hollow legs.’
‘That has to be envy.’ Her incredibly sexy legs were an instant source of erotic fantasies.
‘Oh, I doubt they envy me much…except not having to diet.’
‘Then I hope you’ll have dinner with me. I shall enjoy eating with a woman who likes food and doesn’t see it as the enemy to be kept at bay.’ He slanted her a teasing glance. ‘You will eat more than lettuce leaves?’
She laughed. It was a delightful gurgle, spontaneous, warmly responsive. ‘We can skip salad altogether if you like.’
‘I take it that’s a yes to dinner?’
She scooped in a big breath. ‘Yes.’
Elation zoomed through him. He didn’t care if this was some kind of emotional payback to the guy back in the casino, who clearly hadn’t valued her enough. She was coming his way…plunging ahead with reckless disregard for caution.
After all, he triumphantly reasoned, what did she have to lose? His cynical side told him if it was pride driving her, he represented a top replacement in the lover stakes. What he was offering had to be all gain from her point of view—better prospects for her career, a transfer away from her erstwhile fiancé, and an enviable reason to remove herself from any criticism by her family with the CEO of Templar Resources taking a personal interest in her.
But falling into bed with him might not be on her agenda.
She might not see that as wise—in her position as his employee—or, indeed, desirable in a personal sense, given her very recent disillusionment with her fiancé. On the other hand, there was always impulse.
Bryce started planning a seduction scene as he continued chatting to her, building a rapport to bridge what he had in mind.
Sunny couldn’t believe her luck. Dinner with Bryce Templar. Dinner for two. Beautiful man, beautiful food, beautiful wine—probably the finest champagne to celebrate her taking up his proposition. Except she didn’t quite know what his proposition was, apart from its involving her transfer to the U.S. And the personal element.
A convulsive little shiver ran down her spine. Was sex on the side the pay-off for a big career promotion? She quickly shut her mind to that creepy-crawly thought. Bryce Templar liked her. She could tell from the way he was talking to her. He wasn’t just making conversation. He was enjoying the to-and-fro, smiling, laughing, connecting on all levels.
He was clearly interested in her as a person—what level of education she’d had, the various positions she’d held, leading to her current one, everything she’d done with her life so far, her likes, dislikes. In fact, Sunny was so intoxicated by his charm, it took her a while to realise he was actually conducting an in-depth interview while they wandered along the boulevard.
This was a somewhat sobering thought. Though reassuring, as well. It had to mean he was seriously considering where she could best be used in the company business, and more importantly, he didn’t seem at all put off by anything she’d said.
He wasn’t touching her, either. From the moment he’d stepped back from that highly charged moment in front of the Bellagio Hotel, he’d made no physical contact with her. Plenty of exhilarating eye contact, but nothing physical. Perhaps he had stepped right back from sexual temptation, deciding an intimate liaison with her was inappropriate.
Which, of course it was, Sunny told herself. If she held his high esteem, well…that was something very positive. Yet she couldn’t stop her gaze from surreptitiously wandering over him whenever he paused in his role of tourist guide, pointing things out to her.
The muscular breadth of his chest caught her eye as they lingered under the Statue of Liberty at New York, New York, watching the roller-coaster that looped around the hotel, its riders screaming their excitement. A woman would surely feel safe, held to all that strength, and as a father, he would easily be able to carry two or three children, clutched in his arms or perched on those shoulders.
Then his hand captivated her attention, directing her to look at the figure of the magician, Merlin, in the windows of one of the turrets forming the Medieval castle which was the Excalibur Hotel…a large strong hand, deeply tanned, long fingers, neatly buffed nails. To have such a hand holding her breast, stroking her…did it know how to be gentle? Was he a caring lover?
When they stood between the giant Sphinxes that flanked the great pyramid of the Luxor Hotel…he didn’t look at all dwarfed by them…more like a powerful pharaoh of his time…a man astride the world he was born to…and what would spring from the loins of this king of kings?
Sunny had to take a stern grip on herself. Secretly lusting over Bryce Templar was bad enough. She had to stop thinking about babies, especially connected with him. Whatever the deal he had in mind for her, babies would most certainly not be part of it.
They took the pedestrian overpasses to cross the street to the other side of the boulevard. The second one led them into the vast MGM complex, and an Elvis Presley impersonator strutting ahead of them and revelling in the notice he drew, evoked a bubble of shared amusement.
‘I’ve never understood that,’ Sunny murmured.
‘What?’
‘Why people want to be someone else.’
‘You never entertain a dream world?’
She blushed, guiltily conscious of her x-rated dreams about him. ‘Not to the extent of actually copying another person.’
‘You’re content to be you.’
‘I guess I think…this is my life, however imperfect it is.’
The twinkling green eyes intensified to a sharp probe. ‘What would make it perfect?’
Sunny couldn’t reveal that, not when her idea of perfection revolved around the man he was. She could feel her blush deepening and frantically sought some kind of all-purpose answer.
‘I don’t think we can expect perfection. Making the most of who we are is probably the best aim.’
‘So a good career in your chosen field would satisfy you?’
Was he testing how long she might stay in his employ? She couldn’t bring herself to lie. A career that interested her was great but it wasn’t everything. ‘Well…not completely,’ she admitted, hoping he didn’t need total dedication to her work. ‘I think most of us would like to have a…a partner…to share things with.’
Surely he would, too. Being alone was…lonely. Though he probably never had to be alone if he didn’t want to be. Here she was…providing him with company, simply because he chose to have it, and he hadn’t even met her before today. Maybe he was self-sufficient enough not to need any more than a bit of congenial company whenever he cared to fit it in.
‘What about children?’ he asked, jolting her out of her contemplation of what she wanted for herself, and hitting directly on a highly sensitive need.
‘Children?’ she echoed, unsure where this was leading.
‘Do you see yourself as a mother some time in the future, or are babies a complication you don’t want in your life?’
She sighed. It probably wasn’t the smart answer but she simply couldn’t pretend that missing out on having a family—at least one baby—wasn’t any big deal to her.
‘I would like to have a child one day…with the right father,’ she added with a wry wistfulness.
‘What would encompass right to you, Sunny?’
This was getting too close to the bone. Having envisaged him as the genetically ideal father, Sunny’s comfort zone was being severely tested by his persistence on these points.
They had descended the staircase from the street overpass into the MGM casino area, and were now moving past a café with a jungle theme. Unfortunately Tarzan did not leap out and provide a distraction, and Bryce Templar’s question was still hanging.
‘What relevance does that have to my job?’ she asked, deciding some challenge should be made on the grounds of purpose.
‘It goes to character,’ he answered smoothly. The green eyes locked onto hers, returning her challenge with an intimate undercurrent that flowed straight around her heart and squeezed it. ‘I’m very particular about the character of anyone I bring into close association with me.’
Close.
The word pounded around her bloodstream, stirring up a buzz of sexual possibilities again.
‘Some women’s prime requirement of right would be a certain level of income. The child-price, one might say,’ he said sardonically.
Sunny frowned. ‘I could support a child myself. That’s not the point.’
‘What is?’
She rounded on him, not liking the cynical flavour of his comment, and hating the idea of him applying any shade of it to her. ‘You have a father. What was right for you as a child?’
His mouth curled with irony. ‘For him to be there when I needed him.’
Which she could no longer trust Derek to do. The clanging casino noise around her drove that home again.
‘You’ve just said it all, Mr. Templar,’ she stated decisively.
Her eyes clashed with his, daring him to refute that this quality overrode everything else. It carried the acceptance of responsibility and commitment, displayed reliability and caring, and generated trust…all the things Derek had just demonstrated wrong about himself.
Bryce Templar didn’t refute it. He stared back at her and the air between them sizzled with tense unspoken things. Sunny had the wild sense that he was scouring her soul for how right a mother she would be, judging on some scale which remained hidden to her but was vibrantly real in the context of mating.
‘Let’s make that Bryce,’ he said quietly.
And she knew she had passed some critical test. They stood apart, yet she could feel him drawing her closer to the man he was, unleashing a magnetism that tugged on all that was female in her…deep primitive chords thrumming with anticipation.
He smiled…slowly, sensually, promisingly. ‘You must be hungry by now. I am.’
‘Yes,’ she replied, almost mesmerised by the sensations he was evoking. She was hungry for so many, many things, and every day of this week in Las Vegas she had felt them slipping away from her, leaving an empty hole that even the most exciting career couldn’t bridge. Maybe she was crazy, wanting this man to fill the emptiness so much, she was projecting her own desire onto him.
‘This way,’ he said, and proceeded to guide her around the casino area to the MGM reception desk.
Sunny was barely conscious of walking. She was moving with him, going with him, and he was taking her towards a closer togetherness. Dinner for two. On first-name terms. Sunny and Bryce.
She expected him to ask about restaurants at the desk, but he didn’t.
‘Bryce Templar,’ he announced to the clerk. ‘A suite has been booked for me.’
‘Yes, Mr. Templar. The penthouse Patio Suite. Your luggage has been taken up. Your key?’
‘Please.’
It was instantly produced. ‘If there’s anything else, sir…’
‘Thank you. I’ll call.’
He was steering Sunny towards the elevators before she recollected her stunned wits enough to say, ‘I thought you were staying at the conference hotel.’
‘I’d already checked out when I saw you in the lobby.’
She frowned, bewildered by this move. ‘Couldn’t you check in again?’
‘I preferred to keep my business with you private.’
Private…in a private penthouse suite.
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Emma Darcy
“I want you, Sunny York.”
Bryce cupped her face in his hands as he continued, “I’d marry you right this minute if I could.” His eyes blazed into hers, commanding her full attention.
Bryce’s desire for her sizzled into Sunny’s bloodstream, bringing a vibrancy that reenergized her whole body.
“Then I will…I will marry you, Bryce,” she heard herself say, as though the words were drawn from a place she was barely conscious of, yet she knew even as she said them, she wouldn’t take them back.
This is Australian author Emma Darcy’s 75th Harlequin Presents
novel. Her intense, passionate, fast-paced writing style has made Emma Darcy hugely popular with readers: she’s sold nearly 60 million copies of her books worldwide. Emma is also the author of the international bestseller The Secrets Within, published by MIRA
Books.
The Hot-Blooded Groom
Emma Darcy
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
‘I WANT you married.’
Bryce Templar gritted his teeth. It wasn’t the first time his father had made this demand. Undoubtedly it wouldn’t be the last, either. But he hadn’t come out of his way to visit the old man, still convalescing from his recent heart operation, to have another argument about his bachelor state.
He kept his gaze trained on the view, ignoring the contentious issue. The sun was setting, adding even more brilliant shades of colour to the stunning red rocks of Sedona. His father’s winter residence was certainly sited to capture one of the most striking panoramas nature had to offer, here in the Arizona desert. And of course, communing with nature was another thing Will Templar preached—spiritual peace, clean air, clean living…
‘Are you hearing me, boy?’
Bryce unclenched his jaw and slid his father a derisive look. ‘I’m not a boy, Dad.’
‘Still acting like one,’ came the aggressive grumble. ‘Here you are with your hair going grey and you’re not settled with a woman yet.’
‘I’m only thirty-four. Hardly over the hill. And you went grey in your thirties. It’s genetic.’
It wasn’t the only physical aspect of his father he’d inherited. They were both well over six feet tall, big men, though his father had lost quite a bit of weight over the past year and was looking somewhat gaunt in the face. They had the same strong nose, the same determined mouth, closely set ears, and while his father’s hair was now white, it was still as thick as his own.
The only feature he’d inherited from his mother was her eyes—heavier lidded than his father’s and green instead of grey. Will Templar’s eyes had been described in print as steely and incisive, but right now they were smoking at Bryce with irritable impatience.
‘I was married to your mother in my twenties.’
‘People married earlier in those days, Dad.’
‘You’re not even looking for a wife.’ He shook an admonishing finger. ‘You think I don’t hear about your bed-hopping with starlets in L.A.? Getting laid indiscriminately doesn’t sit well with me, son.’
Bryce barely stifled a sigh as he thought, Here comes the clean living lecture. ‘I don’t bed-hop and I’m not indiscriminate in my choice of playmate,’ he bit out. Hoping to avoid a diatribe on morals, he added, ‘You know how busy I am. I just don’t have the time to put into a relationship what women want out of it.’
It brought his father up from his lounger in a burst of angry energy. ‘Don’t tell me women don’t want marriage. They all want marriage. It’s not difficult to get a woman to say yes to that. And I’m living proof of it with five wives behind me.’
All of them walking away with a bundle, Bryce thought cynically. Except his mother who died before she’d got around to divorce. The billion dollar empire of Templar Resources could absorb the cost of hundreds of wives. It just so happened Bryce didn’t like the idea of being taken for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow ride.
If a woman wanted him…fine. Especially if he wanted her. But the occasional pleasure in bed did not warrant a gold ring and a gold passport to a hefty divorce settlement. Apart from which, he certainly didn’t need the aggravation of a demanding wife. He much preferred a walkaway situation.
‘You get married, Bryce, or I’ll put Damian in control of business, right over your head. Make him CEO until you do get a wife. That will free up your time,’ his father threatened.
‘And give you another heart attack when he messes up,’ Bryce mocked, knowing his half-brother’s limited vision only too well.
‘I mean it, boy! Time’s slipping by and I’m feeling my mortality these days. I want to see you married, and married soon. With a grandchild on the way, too. Within a year. Just get out there and choose a wife. You hear me?’
He was going red in the face. Concerned about his father’s blood pressure, Bryce instantly set aside the argument. ‘I hear you, Dad.’
‘Good! Then do it! And find a woman like your mother. She had a brain, as well as being beautiful.’ He sank back onto the cushions of the lounger, taking quick shallow breaths. The high colour gradually receded. ‘Worst day of my life when your mother died.’
Bryce couldn’t remember it. He’d only been three years old. What he remembered was the succession of stepmothers who had waltzed into and out of his childhood and adolescence.
‘Got to think of the children,’ his father muttered. ‘Damian’s mother was a featherhead. Charming, sexy, but without a thought worth listening to.’ His eyes closed and his voice dropped to a mumble. ‘Damian’s a good boy. Not his fault he hasn’t got your brain. At least he’s guidable.’
Watching fatigue lines deepen on his face, making him look older than his sixty years, Bryce was troubled by the thought there was more to his father’s remark on feeling his mortality than he was letting on. Just how bad was his heart condition?
While they’d had this argument over marriage before, there’d never been a time-frame stipulated.
Within a year.
And the threat about Damian—empty though it was—added more weight to the demand, carrying a measure of desperation.
The sun had slipped below the horizon as they’d talked. The massive red rocks were darkening with shadows. Nothing stayed the same for long, Bryce reflected, and if time was running out for his father…well, why not please him by getting married?
It shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
He wouldn’t let it be.
CHAPTER TWO
SUNNY YORK’s heart did not leap with joy when she spotted her fiancé shoving through the crowd of delegates waiting to enter the conference room. His appearance sent a shudder of distaste down her spine and she found herself gritting her teeth as a host of blistering criticisms clamoured to be expressed.
It was the last day of the conference, the last day to try and smooth over the bad impressions he’d made on others, and the most important day for her, which Derek knew perfectly well. And he turned up like this?
She shook her head in disgust, thinking of how early she had risen this morning, determined on presenting a perfect, go-getting image. It had taken an hour to get her unruly mane of rippling curls under reasonable control, carefully blow-drying out any tendency to frizz and ensuring the whole tawny mass of it looked decently groomed. Her make-up was positive without being overdone, and her sharp yellow suit was a statement of vibrant confidence.
There was absolutely nothing sharp about Derek. His suit looked rumpled, as though he’d dropped it on the floor and dragged it on again. His eyes were bloodshot, he’d nicked his chin shaving, and he was obviously in no state to get anything out of the morning session. She actually bristled with rejection as he hooked his arm around hers.
‘Made it,’ he said, as though it were an achievement she should be grateful for.
Never mind that he’d broken every arrangement for them to spend private time together. Turning up for her sales presentation did not make up for treating her like nothing all week. And turning up like this was the last straw to Sunny.
Her sherry-brown eyes held no welcoming warmth as she tersely replied, ‘I expected to see you at breakfast.’
He leaned over confidentially. ‘Had it at the roulette table. Free drinks, free food all night. They sure look after you at these casinos and I was running hot.’
Sunny’s heart felt very cold. ‘I’m amazed you tore yourself away.’
He grimaced as though she was acting like a pain to him. ‘Don’t nag. I’m here, aren’t I?’
Four days they’d been in Las Vegas and he’d been gambling every spare minute, even skipping conference sessions when he thought he could get away with it. ‘I take it the hot run ended,’ she bit out, barely controlling a fiery flash of temper at his criticism of her attitude.
‘Nope. I won a packet,’ he slurred smugly. ‘But I happened to see the big man come in last night and if he’s showing this morning…’
‘What big man?’ she snapped, losing all patience with him.
‘The head of the whole shebang. Bryce Templar himself. He dropped into the L.A. conference last year to give us a pep talk, remember?’
Sunny remembered. The CEO of Templar Resources was the most gorgeous hunk she’d ever seen, almost a head taller than she was and with a big muscular frame that telegraphed all man to her, eminently lust-worthy, but so far beyond her reach, he was strictly dream material.
She hadn’t heard a word he’d said at L.A. She’d sat in the audience, imagining how it might be in bed with all that strong maleness being driven by the charismatic energy he was putting out in his address to them.
His father had founded Templar Resources, back in 1984, and it was now the largest networking company in the world, producing and servicing software in most languages. Obviously the son was building on that, not just inheriting his position, which added even more power to his sex appeal. On any male evolution scale he was definitely the top rung.
‘Guess he’ll do the same today,’ Derek babbled on. ‘Thought I’d better turn up for it.’
Sunny cast a severely jaundiced look at the man she’d cast in the future role of her husband and father to the family she wanted. Having seen her two younger sisters married and producing adorable babies, she’d become hopelessly clucky, and when Derek had walked into her life, he’d seemed the answer to her dreams.
Those dreams had received an awful lot of tarnishing this week, and right at this moment, the reminder of a man as powerfully impressive as Bryce Templar did nothing to shine them up again.
Derek was the same height as herself—if she wore flat heels—and quite handsome on better days when his blue eyes were clear and his face more alive. His dark blond hair was still damp from a very recent shower so the sun-bleached streaks weren’t showing so much this morning. He usually kept his rather lean physique toned up with sessions in the gym but he hadn’t been anywhere near the hotel’s health club this week.
All in all, he was much less a man in Sunny’s eyes than he’d been four days ago. Whether this gambling fever was a temporary madness or not, he’d completely lost her respect, and she’d hand him back his diamond ring right now, except it might cause a scene that she could do without in front of the other delegates whose respect she wanted when she gave her presentation in just another hour’s time.
Deeply disillusioned and angry with the assumption she would overlook everything, she unhooked her arm from Derek’s as they moved into the conference room and gave him a stony warning. ‘Don’t think you can lean on me if you fall asleep.’
‘Oooh, we are uptight, aren’t we?’ he mocked, looking uglier by the second. ‘Nervous about performing in front of the CEO?’
‘No. I just don’t want to prop you up,’ she grated.
‘Fine! Then I’ll sit at the back and you won’t have to worry about it,’ he sniped, sheering away from her side in a blatant huff.
Sunny walked on, rigidly ignoring him. No doubt a back-row seat suited Derek very well. If Bryce Templar didn’t show, he could easily slip outside and get on with his gambling. Though if he thought other people besides herself hadn’t noticed what was going on, he was a fool.
The managing director of the Sydney branch had already commented on his absence from conference sessions, as well as his failure to attend any of the social functions at night. Derek might be considered a top consultant but playing the corporate game was important, too. He was earning a big black mark here in Las Vegas, not only on a personal level, but a professional one, as well.
Still inwardly fuming over his behaviour, Sunny made her way to the very front row of tables in the auditorium, where she was entitled to sit as one of the presenters this morning. Having settled herself and greeted the other delegates in the team she’d been attached to all week, she did her best to push Derek’s disturbing behaviour out of her mind, concentrating on listening to the buzz about Bryce Templar’s arrival on the scene.
Had he come to announce some new technologies being developed by the company? Was he here to reward someone for outstanding performance? Speculation was running rife.
It ended abruptly as the man himself made his entrance, accompanied by the conference organisers. A hush fell over the room, attention galvanised on the CEO of Templar Resources. He took the podium without any introduction but whatever he said floated right over Sunny’s head.
From a purely physical viewpoint, she couldn’t help thinking that Bryce Templar had to have the best gene pool in the whole world, and if she could choose any one man to be the father of the baby she’d love to have, he would top the stud-list.
The woman in yellow kept attracting Bryce’s eye. She was the only spot of colour amongst a sea of grey and black business clothing. Since she was seated right at the front, he couldn’t miss seeing her, and as women went, she was definitely worth a second look.
Great hair. Lush wide mouth. Big dreamy eyes. A strong impression of warmth, which stayed with him as he left the podium, niggling at the bitterness his lawyer had stirred with the call about yet another change Kristen was demanding in the prenuptial agreement. His fiancée was fast dissipating any warmth he’d felt for her.
As he sat down at the official table with the conference organisers, he reflected on the black irony of having thought he’d picked the ideal wife. Kristen Parrish had enough beauty and brains to meet his father’s criteria, plus a very stylish career as an interior decorator, which meant she wouldn’t be hanging on having a husband dance attendance all the time. She had a business of her own to run. Which suited Bryce just fine.
The problem was, her sharp brain was proving to be one hell of a calculating machine, and Bryce fiercely resented the way she was manipulating the situation. Just one mention that he wanted a child, preferably within the first year of marriage, and she’d started using it as a bargaining chip to ensure she would always have funds to raise their child should the marriage fail. She was literally bleeding him for all she could get, and if it wasn’t for his father, he’d tell her to get lost.
Then she’d probably sue him for breach of promise.
And would he find anyone better?
His gaze flicked to the woman in yellow and caught her looking at him. Her head instantly jerked away, thick dark lashes swept down, and her cheeks bloomed with heat. Quite an amazing blush. She had to be in her late twenties or early thirties, and very committed to a career to be here at this conference. Hardly the shy type. She wouldn’t be wearing yellow if she was shy.
Her cheeks were still burning, lending even more vivid colour and warmth to her face. It was a very appealing, feminine face, finely boned, though not quite perfect with the slightly tip-tilted nose. Her hair drew his attention again, copper and corn colours tangled through a tousled riot of waves and curls, the thick mass of it falling from a centre parting and tumbling down over her shoulders. It looked…very touchable, unlike Kristen’s ice-blond sculptured bob.
He wondered what the woman in yellow would be like in bed, then put a firm clamp on those thoughts.
He’d made his bed.
Besides, would the woman in yellow prove any different to Kristen when it came to the money angle?
With a cynical shake of his head, Bryce reached for a glass of iced water. No point in getting heated about anyone he didn’t know…or Kristen’s greed.
His forthcoming marriage was a done deal. Almost a done deal. He didn’t have the time to settle with someone else. The doctors had told him it was a miracle his father was still alive and they were using experimental drugs to treat his condition. Such risky medication held out no guarantees, and Bryce didn’t want to delay giving what peace of mind this marriage might bring, at least in the short term.
No point in brooding over the outcome for himself, either. He’d flown to Vegas to hand out awards and get a feel of how the rank and file were dealing with the company products. His mission this morning was to listen and observe. Which he proceeded to do.
First up was a panel who role-played selling the concepts of particular products to customers who have no idea how they would work in business, or that they even existed to be used. Bryce was favourably impressed by their understanding and the concise way they focused on customer needs to adopt and apply more profitable business practices.
Next came a sample presentation to a company board level, delivered by a Business Development Manager from Sydney, Australia. The program noted that Sunny York had the enviable record of always achieving her quota of sales. Her…a woman? His interest piqued, Bryce waited curiously to assess why she was so successful.
The conference organiser finished his patter on her, raised his arm in a welcoming gesture, and in a typically hyped-up voice, announced, ‘Miss Sunny York.’
Up stood the woman in yellow!
She had a smile on her face that would captivate and dazzle even the hardest-headed financial directors. And she was tall—six feet tall, Bryce estimated—and more than half of that height was taken up by the longest legs he’d ever seen on a woman. He couldn’t help watching them as she stepped up to the podium. Her skirt ended above her knees but it wasn’t a mini. It simply looked like a mini on those legs, and she wasn’t even wearing high-heels, just comfortable court shoes with enough of a heel to look elegant.
His gaze travelled slowly upwards from her feet…what would it be like to have those long, shapely legs wrapped around him…the curvy cradle of her hips underneath him…plenty of cushion in those nicely rounded breasts, too…that mouth, so full-lipped and wide, made for sensual pleasure…and her hair tumbling everywhere.
‘Hi!’ She spread her smile and twinkling eyes around the audience, drawing everyone to her with a flow of warmth that sparked responding smiles. ‘I’m here to help you make money…and save money.’
She had them in her hand from that very first delivery and didn’t let them go for one second in the whole forty minutes of her presentation. It didn’t feel like a hard-sell. She came over as concerned to serve the customer’s very best interests, her voice carrying a very natural charm, allied to a mobility of expression which was almost mesmerising. The line of logic she injected into selling sounded so simple and convincing, she left no doubt this was a winning move, and her own positive energy literally generated positive energy through the whole auditorium.
Bryce found himself totally entranced.
Even her Australian accent was endearing.
Sunny…
He could certainly do with a bit of that sun in his life. A lot of it. All of it. His stomach clenched as his mind skidded to Kristen. He didn’t want a cool-headed calculator. Taking her as his wife went against every grain in his entire body…and that very same body was craving what Sunny York might give him.
His eyes feasted on her as she stepped down from the podium. He’d invite her to join him for lunch…test possibilities. Seize the day. Seize the night. A night with Sunny York would at least satisfy the compelling fantasies she’d been stirring, and if she was all she promised to be…
The flash of a diamond on her left hand pulled the hot run of thoughts up with a jolt. Bryce stared at the ring that declared Sunny York was engaged to be married, committed to another man, whom she probably loved. Her whole performance demonstrated she put her heart into everything she did. Heart and soul.
Bryce wasn’t used to feeling like a loser. It hit him hard, the sick hollowness following on the wild surge of excitement she had evoked in him. He sat back in his chair and grimly reviewed his options.
He might be able to seduce her away from her fiancé. Inducements marched through his mind…powerful attractions for most women. But if he did win her like that…would he still want her?
Give it up, man, he told himself savagely.
Kristen was ready and willing…so long as he paid the price she demanded. Which he could well afford.
Settle with her and be done with it.
CHAPTER THREE
SUNNY headed for the ground-floor casino, determined on having a showdown with Derek. He hadn’t come to the lunch—not even waiting outside the conference room to give her a courtesy comment on her presentation before skipping off—and he hadn’t shown for the last session, regardless of the fact that Bryce Templar had been giving out awards. His respect for the big man obviously hadn’t extended that far.
She didn’t like the casino floor. The assault on her ears from countless bell-ringing slot machines was horrific. It was bad enough walking through it. Actually spending hours here was beyond her understanding. Having finally located the roulette tables, she scanned them for Derek and was frustrated at not finding him. Could he have gone to bed—the need for sleep catching up with him?
Frowning, Sunny moved from foot to foot, too worked up to walk away with so much angst playing through her mind. She shot her gaze in every direction, not really expecting to resolve anything, simply at a loss to know what to do next. It came as a shock when she actually spotted Derek, seated at a blackjack table, watching the cards being played by the dealer with an intensity that cramped her heart.
He was caught in a thrall that nothing was going to break.
It seemed that nothing else mattered.
Sickened by the realisation of how destructively addictive gambling could be, Sunny hesitated over confronting Derek, yet the relationship they had shared up until this week demanded that he at least recognise how he was treating it. The need to get through to him drove her over to the blackjack table. She waited until he threw down his cards in disgust, apparently having lost his bet, then tapped him on the shoulder.
‘Derek…’
He sliced an impatient frown at her.
‘…could I speak to you, please?’
‘Can’t you see I’m playing?’
‘It’s important.’
Grimacing at the interruption, he heaved himself off his chair and tipped the back of it onto the edge of the table to hold his place. ‘What’s so damned important?’ he demanded, his bleary eyes snapping with frustration.
‘It’s the last night…’
‘I’ve just lost the roll I won at roulette. My luck’s got to turn…’
‘Derek, we’ve got seats for the Jubilee show. And dinner beforehand.’
‘The action is here. I’m not leaving it.’
‘Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?’ she cried, trying to get through the obsessive glaze to some grain of perspective on what he was doing.
The personal tack clearly irritated him. ‘I sat through your presentation. You slayed ’em as you always do. Is that what you want to hear?’ he said ungraciously, then waved a sharp dismissal as he added, ‘If you’re hot to go and watch some showgirl extravaganza, fine. But as you just pointed out, this is our last night here and I want to win my money back.’
‘And what if you don’t? What if you lose more?’
He looked shifty.
‘Derek, just how much have you lost already?’
Feverish need flashed at her. ‘I’ll win it back. It’s only a matter of time.’
An icy fear struck her. ‘Have you been gambling on credit?’
‘That’s my business. We’re not married yet.’
No sharing. No desire to share. Complete shut-out. Hurt and disappointment held her silent for a moment as she realised beyond any doubt that there could be no happy future for them. A bitter urge to show him what he’d done, how low he had fallen, had her wrenching the diamond ring off her finger.
‘Here!’ She held it out to him. ‘You can pawn it. Get some more money to throw down the drain.’
It rocked him. ‘Now look here, Sunny…’
‘No. Try looking at yourself, Derek. It’s over for me.’
‘Well, if you feel that way…’ His eyes glittered as he took the ring. ‘You’ll change your mind when I win a bundle.’
He was unreachable on any level. ‘I won’t change my mind. We’re through, Derek,’ she said with absolute finality.
His gaze had dropped to the diamond in his hand, and Sunny had the gut-wrenching impression he was assessing what he could get for it. Her eyes blurred—all the inner torment of hopes and dreams being just swept away suddenly catching her by the throat. For their eight-month-long relationship to come to this…
She swung away, swallowing hard to stop herself from bursting into tears and making a spectacle of herself. Her legs moved automatically, driven by the need to get out of the casino, out of this dreadful playground which trapped people and drained them of any soul she could relate to.
The slot machines jangled around her, a cacophony of sound that seemed to mock her misery. She completely lost her bearings, not knowing what direction led to an exit. A moment’s enforced reasoning told her to head for the hotel’s reception desk from where the lobby was definitely in view.
It was such a relief to break free of the vast gambling area, tears swam into her eyes again. This time she simply put her head down and followed the walkway to the lobby, hoping not to run into anyone who knew her.
The limousine was waiting. His plane was waiting to fly him back to L.A. Kristen was waiting for him to return to her, no doubt ready to sweeten her prenuptial demands with how well she would accommodate his needs. Bryce Templar told himself that what he’d just witnessed didn’t change anything, but still he lingered in the lobby, watching Sunny York.
She’d taken off the diamond ring.
The man she’d handed it to wasn’t following her.
Her haphazard flight from what was clearly a distressing scene had finally been checked and she was heading towards him. Not consciously. She hadn’t seen him. She wasn’t seeing anything except the floor stretching ahead of her.
‘Your bag is in the car, sir,’ the bellhop informed him.
He nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from the long beautiful legs of Sunny York, walking her towards him. The memory of her warm vibrancy played havoc with his usual cool decision-making processes. Here was opportunity. The guy at the blackjack table was one hell of a big loser and that loss was right in front of Bryce to be capitilised upon. The urge to do so was more compelling than any urge he’d had for a long time.
She was free.
He wasn’t, Bryce sternly reminded himself. Kristen was wearing his ring. But not a wedding ring yet. And before he could have any further second thoughts, a fierce surge of highly male instincts moved him to intercept Sunny York’s path to the exit doors.
‘Miss York…’
Legs were planted in front of her—the legs of a big man—and that voice…her heart quivered as a weird certainty crashed through the daze of misery in her mind. Bryce Templar was addressing her. Bryce Templar!
Her feet faltered, hesitating over making a wild sidestep to escape him. Even blinking furiously, she couldn’t hide the moisture in her eyes. Impossible to face him…yet impossible not to. A man like Bryce Templar would not be snubbed. Not by an employee of his company.
‘I was looking for you after the awards presentation,’ he said purposefully.
It surprised her into raising her gaze to his. ‘Looking for me?’ His eyes were green, pouring out interest in her, and despite her embarrassment, Sunny found she couldn’t look away.
He smiled. ‘You impressed me very much this morning.’
At the vivid memory of how he had impressed her, heat whooshed up her neck and scorched her cheeks. It reduced her to total speechlessness.
‘You have a remarkable gift for selling,’ he went on.
Somehow she managed to get her mouth around, ‘Thank you.’
‘I wondered if I could interest you in a proposition.’
Like having a baby with me?
Sunny blushed even more furiously at that terribly wayward thought. Her mind was hopelessly out of control. Bryce Templar had to be talking about a business proposition, which was stunning in itself…the big man thinking she had a special talent for sales.
‘Were you on your way somewhere?’ he asked.
Realising her gauche manner was probably putting him off—putting Bryce Templar off!—Sunny tried desperately to adjust to this totally unexpected situation.
‘I…I was just going for a walk. Out of the hotel. We’ve been closeted inside all day…’
‘Yes, of course,’ he said understandingly. ‘I’ll walk with you. If you’ll just excuse me a few moments while I rearrange my schedule…’ He smiled again, showering her with warm approval. ‘…I would like to talk to you.’
She nodded, completely dumbstruck at the prospect of strolling down the street, accompanied by Bryce Templar. Her whole body started tingling as she watched him stride over to the concierge’s desk. He was rearranging his schedule to be with her! It was incredible, world-shaking.
Green eyes…she hadn’t been close enough to see their colour before. They gave his face an even more striking character. Or so it seemed to her.
She watched him command the concierge’s attention. He would naturally command attention anywhere, Sunny thought, even without the weight of his name and position. His height, the breadth of his shoulders, the sheer physical authority of the man, drew the gaze of everyone around him.
For once in her life, Sunny had the uplifting feeling of her own tallness ceasing to be a burden that had to be bypassed in her reaching out to others. She was short enough to hold her head high next to Bryce Templar without diminishing his sense of stature in any shape or form. Not that her height would be of any concern to him—a man of his power—but it was a relief to her not to feel conscious of it.
He made some quick calls on a cell phone, then spoke again to the concierge. Sunny was grateful for the time to pull herself together. A business proposition, he’d said, which was what she should be focusing on instead of letting foolish personal responses to him turn her into a blithering idiot. She had a future to consider…a future without Derek.
Yet when Bryce Templar turned back to her, his green eyes targeted her with an intensity that didn’t feel business-like at all. Sunny was instantly swamped with an acute awareness of being a woman, every feminine instinct she had positively zinging with the electric possibility that he found her worthy of mating with.
It blew her mind off any consideration of business. Her pulse was a wild drumbeat in her temples. Her stomach clenched at his approach. He stretched one arm out in a gathering-in gesture and some madness in her brain saw him naked and intent on claiming her. Then his other arm pointed to the exit doors and the crazy anticipation rocketing through her was countered by a blast of sanity.
A walk…
That was the sum of his invitation.
Somehow she pushed her shaky legs into walking.
Bryce Templar did not, in fact, touch her. A bellhop rushed to open the door. When they emerged from the hotel, the big man fell into step beside her and Sunny instinctively chose to turn right because he was on her left and bumping into him was unthinkable in her dreadfully hyped-up state with fantasies running riot.
‘Have you enjoyed being in Las Vegas?’
It was a perfectly natural question but his voice seemed to purr in her ear, heightening her awareness of him. Sunny kept her gaze trained straight ahead, not trusting herself to look at him and keep sensible. Business, business, business, she recited frantically.
‘I haven’t really had much time to explore the city,’ she answered carefully. ‘The conference has been pretty much full-on. Which is what we’re here for,’ she quickly added in case it sounded like a criticism. ‘And I have learnt a lot.’
‘You apply what you know extremely well,’ he remarked admiringly.
She shrugged. ‘I like giving our customers the best deal I can.’
‘Well, you’ve certainly done an excellent job of serving Templar Resources.’
‘I’m glad you think so.’
‘Oh, I think you’d be an asset to anyone, Miss York. Or may I call you Sunny?’
‘If you like,’ she gabbled, trying not to read too much into his charming manner.
‘It suits you. You project a warmth that makes everyone want to bask in it.’
He was projecting a warmth that was sending her dizzy. She was tempted to glance at him, to check the expression on his face, but didn’t quite dare. It was difficult enough to remain reasonably sensible when she was so affected by his close presence. If he caught her looking at him and held her gaze, she might melt into a mindless heap.
‘What do you wish to see on our walk?’ he asked pleasantly.
She had no plan. Her only thought had been to get out of the casino. ‘I…I just wanted…more of a feel for the city…before I leave.’
‘I suppose, in a way, you could call it a very romantic city…full of dreams.’
Shattered dreams if you’re a loser.
The flash of Derek was unwelcome, bringing with it the empty feeling of no marriage and no babies to look forward to. But she could never accept Derek as a husband or the father of her children now. It was definitely for the best that she’d found out what she would have been getting in him.
‘The re-creation of romantic cities in the newer hotels—Venice, Paris, New York. They’re quite fantastic facsimiles of the real thing,’ Bryce Templar remarked, continuing his romance comment. ‘Have you had a look at them?’
Sunny struggled to get her mind back on track with his. ‘The Venetian and Paris, yes. They’re amazing.’
‘Well, we’re walking in the right direction to see New York, New York. The Excalibur and the Luxor are further on beyond it. Very striking with their Medieval and Egyptian architectural themes.’
Suddenly struck by his indulgence towards what he perceived as her wishes, Sunny began seriously wondering what he wanted with her. Here he was, strolling along the Boulevard, playing guide to her tourist…what was it leading to? They reached an intersection and had to stop for the traffic lights to change. Taking a deep breath, and steeling herself to cope with the nerve-shaking magnetism of the man, Sunny turned to face him.
‘Your time must be valuable,’ she stated, her eyes quickly searching his for a true response.
‘Isn’t everyone’s?’ he replied.
‘Yes. But…’ She floundered as he smiled, showing obvious pleasure in her company.
‘You need to relax. So do I. Is there any reason we shouldn’t relax together?’
‘No,’ she answered breathlessly, her pulse going haywire at the realisation he was attracted to her, man to woman attraction. No mistake. No flight of fancy. The spark of sexual connection was in his eyes—the keen interest, the desire to know more, the hunter’s gleam that said she was worth pursuing and he meant to pursue.
‘Good!’ There was a wealth of satisfaction in that one simple word. He reached out and gently cupped her elbow. ‘The lights have changed. Let’s go with the flow.’
The flow Sunny felt had nothing to do with the stream of people crossing the street with them. She was barely aware of them. The hand lightly holding her arm had the mental force of a physical brand…like Bryce Templar was claiming possession of her, burning his ownership through the sleeve of her suit-coat and making her sizzle with possibilities she would not have believed in a few moments ago.
Bryce Templar…wanting her. She hadn’t been completely crazy back in the hotel lobby. But what did it mean to him? Was it his habit to pluck a woman out of a crowd—someone he fancied—and just go after her? It probably was that easy for a man like him. What woman would refuse the chance to…?
Shock stopped that thought from reaching its natural conclusion. Fanciful lusting was one thing. Real flesh-and-blood lusting was something else. Did she want to be a one-night stand for Bryce Templar, finishing off his trip to Las Vegas—a bit of relaxation, satisfying a sexual urge? Surely that was all it could be. She was an Australian, on her way back to Sydney tomorrow. An easy goodbye.
‘How would you feel about transferring to the U.S., Sunny?’
It startled her into a fast re-think. ‘You mean…leave Sydney…for here?’
‘Not here. Your base would be Los Angeles. Or New York. They hold our biggest operations.’
Business!
Was she hopelessly out of kilter, imagining the sexual stuff?
Totally confused, Sunny tried to come to grips with this new question. A career move…an upward career move…out of her own country.
‘Would you find that too much of a wrench?’ he asked quietly. ‘I realise it’s a big ask, particularly if you’re close to your family.’
Her family…Sunny almost groaned as she envisaged telling her mother and sisters she’d broken her engagement to Derek. No wedding. No marriage. No babies. She’d been a failure as a woman in their eyes for years and there she’d be, proving it again. Almost thirty and couldn’t find Mr. Right. Sympathy would be directed to her face, pity behind her back, and she’d hate every minute of it.
‘I have my own life to lead,’ she said on a surge of proud independence.
‘No family?’ he queried.
‘I have two married sisters and my mother is very involved with her grandchildren. My father died some years ago. I’d be missed…and I’d miss them…’ She flashed him a look of self-determination. ‘…but I would certainly consider an offer.’
Triumph glinted in his eyes. ‘Then I’ll make it as attractive as I can.’
Her heart jumped into another gallop. It wasn’t her imagination. This was highly personal. And he wanted her on hand for more than one night!
‘The package would include a generous travel allowance,’ he assured her. ‘Which will enable you to visit your family on a reasonably frequent basis.’
Behind her, music suddenly boomed out over loudspeakers. So dazed was Sunny by the revelation that Bryce Templar was very intent on getting her where he wanted her, she almost leapt out of her skin at the fanfare of trumpets, her head jerking around, half expecting to see a triumphal parade for the victory being planned in the green eyes.
‘It’s heralding the dance of the fountains at the Bellagio,’ Bryce informed her. ‘Come…it’s worth seeing.’
His arm went around her waist, sweeping her with him and holding her protectively as he steered her through the crowd gathering along the sidewalk to enjoy the promised spectacle. He didn’t push or shove. People simply gave way to him, standing back to let him and his companion through to a prime watching position against the Italian-style balustrade that edged the man-made lake in front of the Bellagio Hotel.
He stood half behind her, dropping his hand onto the balustrade on her far side to keep her encircled in the shelter of his arm, though no longer touching her. It was an extraordinary feeling—being protected and cared for by this big man. Sunny couldn’t help revelling in it. She was so used to fending for herself, it was wonderful to wallow in the sense of being a woman whose man was looking after everything for her, ensuring her pleasure.
Except he wasn’t actually her man. But could he be? In a very real sense? The very male solidity of the body so close to hers was real enough. So was her response to it. If she leaned back…made deliberate contact…what would happen?
Recognising the wanton recklessness in that temptation, Sunny held still, telling herself to wait for his moves. It ill behove her to instigate anything, especially when she wasn’t in his social league. She’d made a fool of herself, believing she could share her life with Derek. How big a fool might she be, reading far too much between the lines of Bryce Templar’s proposition?
A row of high water spouts started running right across the lake. Circles of fountains shot into the air. The music moved into the tune of ‘Big Spender’ and the high lines of water looped and swayed and bopped to the rhythm like a human chorus line, dancing to a choreography that required perfect timing.
It was an entrancing sight, yet the song being used struck a raw place in Sunny, reminding her this city revolved around gambling and all the lavish glamour, luxury and service were designed to draw people into big spending. Derek could very well be ruining himself here. Though the responsibility for that lay squarely with him, no one else.
Would she be ruining her life, impulsively linking it to whatever Bryce Templar wanted?
A gamble, she thought. A big gamble on a big man. An absolutely magnificent man who made her feel…exceedingly primitive.
The fountains whooshed high in a fabulous finale, then seemed to bow before gracefully dropping back under the surface of the lake, their dance over.
‘That was lovely,’ Sunny breathed, and with her eyes still sparkling appreciately, turned to look directly at the man who was fast infiltrating every aspect of her life. She realised instantly that his gaze had been fixed on her hair. It slid from the soft mass of waves to meet hers, transmitting a sensual simmering that caught what breath she had left in her throat. The rest of her words emerged as a husky whisper. ‘Thank you for showing it to me.’
For one electrifying moment he looked at her mouth. The blast of raw desire she felt emanating from him scrambled her mind. Her lips remained slightly parted, quivering in wanton anticipation.
Then he dragged his gaze back to hers, locking onto it with searing force as he murmured, ‘Your pleasure is my pleasure.’
Her breasts prickled. Her stomach clenched. A tremor of excitement ran down her thighs. Her only conscious thought, rising out of the raging desire he stirred was…
It was real…his wanting her…as real as her wanting him right back…and if she didn’t take this gamble she might be missing the experience of a lifetime.
CHAPTER FOUR
BRYCE only just managed to stop himself from kissing Sunny York right then and there. The desire to ravish the mouth she seemed to be offering him was totally rampant. Only a belated sense of where they were—on a public street with a crowd of tourists around them—gave him pause, and his brain seized the pause to flash a neon-bright danger signal.
He was out of control.
Even so the physical rebellion against the warning was sharp and intense. But being in control had ruled his life so long, his mind automatically equated that factor with success, and losing this woman with rash action at this point was unacceptable. She had been skittish up until now. Moving too fast might frighten her off. It wasn’t smart to assume too much too soon, not when so much was hanging on the outcome of one night with her.
Dumping Kristen.
Marrying Sunny York.
Persuading her into a pregnancy she might not want.
It was a huge leap for him to take. How much bigger for her, without his cogent reasons firing the impulse to take this alternative road?
He stepped back, gesturing a continuation of their stroll. ‘A little slice of New York awaits you up ahead.’
Her beautiful amber eyes reflected inner confusion. Her vulnerability to what he was doing smote his conscience for a moment. She was afloat from her broken engagement, undoubtedly wanting an escape from the hurt to both heart and pride, and he was ruthlessly intent on drawing her into his net.
But he would look after her and give her a life full of riches if she came his way.
With that soothing justification riding on the advantage he knew he was taking, Bryce slid into charm mode, offering a whimsical little smile as he sought to ease her personal turmoil with outside interests.
‘The Statue of Liberty, the Brooklyn Bridge, and the Empire State Building are somewhat scaled down since they’re merely dressing up a hotel, but very recognisable,’ he said encouragingly.
She gave her head a little shake, alerting Bryce even more forcefully to the danger of moving too fast. She’d have to be totally insensitive to miss the sexual signals he’d been giving out and he suspected she was all too aware of them, given the way she’d been evading looking at him and the tension emanating from her. Although part of that could have been the need to hide her distress over the guy she’d just broken with.
‘Have you had any first-hand experience of New York?’ he quickly asked, talking to re-establish a more comfortable connection for her.
‘Yes, but only a few days’ sightseeing.’ She hesitated, her eyes scanning his uncertainly. ‘Not…not business.’
‘What was your impression of it?’ he pressed, relieved when she stepped forward, indicating her willingness to go on with him.
‘It had an exciting energy…the sense of a lot happening.’ Her mouth curved into a musing smile. ‘Extra-wide sidewalks. Hot dogs, with an amazing range of choices for spicing them up. Delicatessens with exotic food. Caramel apples…’
He laughed. ‘You must really enjoy food.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Her smile turned lopsided. ‘My sisters accuse me of having hollow legs.’
‘That has to be envy.’ Her incredibly sexy legs were an instant source of erotic fantasies.
‘Oh, I doubt they envy me much…except not having to diet.’
‘Then I hope you’ll have dinner with me. I shall enjoy eating with a woman who likes food and doesn’t see it as the enemy to be kept at bay.’ He slanted her a teasing glance. ‘You will eat more than lettuce leaves?’
She laughed. It was a delightful gurgle, spontaneous, warmly responsive. ‘We can skip salad altogether if you like.’
‘I take it that’s a yes to dinner?’
She scooped in a big breath. ‘Yes.’
Elation zoomed through him. He didn’t care if this was some kind of emotional payback to the guy back in the casino, who clearly hadn’t valued her enough. She was coming his way…plunging ahead with reckless disregard for caution.
After all, he triumphantly reasoned, what did she have to lose? His cynical side told him if it was pride driving her, he represented a top replacement in the lover stakes. What he was offering had to be all gain from her point of view—better prospects for her career, a transfer away from her erstwhile fiancé, and an enviable reason to remove herself from any criticism by her family with the CEO of Templar Resources taking a personal interest in her.
But falling into bed with him might not be on her agenda.
She might not see that as wise—in her position as his employee—or, indeed, desirable in a personal sense, given her very recent disillusionment with her fiancé. On the other hand, there was always impulse.
Bryce started planning a seduction scene as he continued chatting to her, building a rapport to bridge what he had in mind.
Sunny couldn’t believe her luck. Dinner with Bryce Templar. Dinner for two. Beautiful man, beautiful food, beautiful wine—probably the finest champagne to celebrate her taking up his proposition. Except she didn’t quite know what his proposition was, apart from its involving her transfer to the U.S. And the personal element.
A convulsive little shiver ran down her spine. Was sex on the side the pay-off for a big career promotion? She quickly shut her mind to that creepy-crawly thought. Bryce Templar liked her. She could tell from the way he was talking to her. He wasn’t just making conversation. He was enjoying the to-and-fro, smiling, laughing, connecting on all levels.
He was clearly interested in her as a person—what level of education she’d had, the various positions she’d held, leading to her current one, everything she’d done with her life so far, her likes, dislikes. In fact, Sunny was so intoxicated by his charm, it took her a while to realise he was actually conducting an in-depth interview while they wandered along the boulevard.
This was a somewhat sobering thought. Though reassuring, as well. It had to mean he was seriously considering where she could best be used in the company business, and more importantly, he didn’t seem at all put off by anything she’d said.
He wasn’t touching her, either. From the moment he’d stepped back from that highly charged moment in front of the Bellagio Hotel, he’d made no physical contact with her. Plenty of exhilarating eye contact, but nothing physical. Perhaps he had stepped right back from sexual temptation, deciding an intimate liaison with her was inappropriate.
Which, of course it was, Sunny told herself. If she held his high esteem, well…that was something very positive. Yet she couldn’t stop her gaze from surreptitiously wandering over him whenever he paused in his role of tourist guide, pointing things out to her.
The muscular breadth of his chest caught her eye as they lingered under the Statue of Liberty at New York, New York, watching the roller-coaster that looped around the hotel, its riders screaming their excitement. A woman would surely feel safe, held to all that strength, and as a father, he would easily be able to carry two or three children, clutched in his arms or perched on those shoulders.
Then his hand captivated her attention, directing her to look at the figure of the magician, Merlin, in the windows of one of the turrets forming the Medieval castle which was the Excalibur Hotel…a large strong hand, deeply tanned, long fingers, neatly buffed nails. To have such a hand holding her breast, stroking her…did it know how to be gentle? Was he a caring lover?
When they stood between the giant Sphinxes that flanked the great pyramid of the Luxor Hotel…he didn’t look at all dwarfed by them…more like a powerful pharaoh of his time…a man astride the world he was born to…and what would spring from the loins of this king of kings?
Sunny had to take a stern grip on herself. Secretly lusting over Bryce Templar was bad enough. She had to stop thinking about babies, especially connected with him. Whatever the deal he had in mind for her, babies would most certainly not be part of it.
They took the pedestrian overpasses to cross the street to the other side of the boulevard. The second one led them into the vast MGM complex, and an Elvis Presley impersonator strutting ahead of them and revelling in the notice he drew, evoked a bubble of shared amusement.
‘I’ve never understood that,’ Sunny murmured.
‘What?’
‘Why people want to be someone else.’
‘You never entertain a dream world?’
She blushed, guiltily conscious of her x-rated dreams about him. ‘Not to the extent of actually copying another person.’
‘You’re content to be you.’
‘I guess I think…this is my life, however imperfect it is.’
The twinkling green eyes intensified to a sharp probe. ‘What would make it perfect?’
Sunny couldn’t reveal that, not when her idea of perfection revolved around the man he was. She could feel her blush deepening and frantically sought some kind of all-purpose answer.
‘I don’t think we can expect perfection. Making the most of who we are is probably the best aim.’
‘So a good career in your chosen field would satisfy you?’
Was he testing how long she might stay in his employ? She couldn’t bring herself to lie. A career that interested her was great but it wasn’t everything. ‘Well…not completely,’ she admitted, hoping he didn’t need total dedication to her work. ‘I think most of us would like to have a…a partner…to share things with.’
Surely he would, too. Being alone was…lonely. Though he probably never had to be alone if he didn’t want to be. Here she was…providing him with company, simply because he chose to have it, and he hadn’t even met her before today. Maybe he was self-sufficient enough not to need any more than a bit of congenial company whenever he cared to fit it in.
‘What about children?’ he asked, jolting her out of her contemplation of what she wanted for herself, and hitting directly on a highly sensitive need.
‘Children?’ she echoed, unsure where this was leading.
‘Do you see yourself as a mother some time in the future, or are babies a complication you don’t want in your life?’
She sighed. It probably wasn’t the smart answer but she simply couldn’t pretend that missing out on having a family—at least one baby—wasn’t any big deal to her.
‘I would like to have a child one day…with the right father,’ she added with a wry wistfulness.
‘What would encompass right to you, Sunny?’
This was getting too close to the bone. Having envisaged him as the genetically ideal father, Sunny’s comfort zone was being severely tested by his persistence on these points.
They had descended the staircase from the street overpass into the MGM casino area, and were now moving past a café with a jungle theme. Unfortunately Tarzan did not leap out and provide a distraction, and Bryce Templar’s question was still hanging.
‘What relevance does that have to my job?’ she asked, deciding some challenge should be made on the grounds of purpose.
‘It goes to character,’ he answered smoothly. The green eyes locked onto hers, returning her challenge with an intimate undercurrent that flowed straight around her heart and squeezed it. ‘I’m very particular about the character of anyone I bring into close association with me.’
Close.
The word pounded around her bloodstream, stirring up a buzz of sexual possibilities again.
‘Some women’s prime requirement of right would be a certain level of income. The child-price, one might say,’ he said sardonically.
Sunny frowned. ‘I could support a child myself. That’s not the point.’
‘What is?’
She rounded on him, not liking the cynical flavour of his comment, and hating the idea of him applying any shade of it to her. ‘You have a father. What was right for you as a child?’
His mouth curled with irony. ‘For him to be there when I needed him.’
Which she could no longer trust Derek to do. The clanging casino noise around her drove that home again.
‘You’ve just said it all, Mr. Templar,’ she stated decisively.
Her eyes clashed with his, daring him to refute that this quality overrode everything else. It carried the acceptance of responsibility and commitment, displayed reliability and caring, and generated trust…all the things Derek had just demonstrated wrong about himself.
Bryce Templar didn’t refute it. He stared back at her and the air between them sizzled with tense unspoken things. Sunny had the wild sense that he was scouring her soul for how right a mother she would be, judging on some scale which remained hidden to her but was vibrantly real in the context of mating.
‘Let’s make that Bryce,’ he said quietly.
And she knew she had passed some critical test. They stood apart, yet she could feel him drawing her closer to the man he was, unleashing a magnetism that tugged on all that was female in her…deep primitive chords thrumming with anticipation.
He smiled…slowly, sensually, promisingly. ‘You must be hungry by now. I am.’
‘Yes,’ she replied, almost mesmerised by the sensations he was evoking. She was hungry for so many, many things, and every day of this week in Las Vegas she had felt them slipping away from her, leaving an empty hole that even the most exciting career couldn’t bridge. Maybe she was crazy, wanting this man to fill the emptiness so much, she was projecting her own desire onto him.
‘This way,’ he said, and proceeded to guide her around the casino area to the MGM reception desk.
Sunny was barely conscious of walking. She was moving with him, going with him, and he was taking her towards a closer togetherness. Dinner for two. On first-name terms. Sunny and Bryce.
She expected him to ask about restaurants at the desk, but he didn’t.
‘Bryce Templar,’ he announced to the clerk. ‘A suite has been booked for me.’
‘Yes, Mr. Templar. The penthouse Patio Suite. Your luggage has been taken up. Your key?’
‘Please.’
It was instantly produced. ‘If there’s anything else, sir…’
‘Thank you. I’ll call.’
He was steering Sunny towards the elevators before she recollected her stunned wits enough to say, ‘I thought you were staying at the conference hotel.’
‘I’d already checked out when I saw you in the lobby.’
She frowned, bewildered by this move. ‘Couldn’t you check in again?’
‘I preferred to keep my business with you private.’
Private…in a private penthouse suite.
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Emma Darcy
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: The Hot-Blooded Groom, электронная книга автора Emma Darcy на английском языке, в жанре современная зарубежная литература