His Forever Family(23)

"Beautiful," she murmured, turning a strange smile in Marcus's direction.

"Yes," he agreed, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her  into a light hug. They needed to get going. They'd delayed arriving for  the Beach Blanket Bingo party as long as they could. They were quickly  becoming unfashionably late and that would create its own set of  problems.                       
       
           



       

But he didn't want to ruin this moment. Liberty was framed by the  bright blue sky and the deep blue ocean. The salty breeze whispered  softly through the sands on the private beach on Catalina Island,  blowing the strands of her hair around her neck. He wanted to bury his  face against her and let those hairs play over his skin.

No, he didn't blame her for not hurrying down to the beach.

He looked down to where the party was in full swing. Even though it was  only three in the afternoon and the sun wouldn't set for hours, the  tiki torches burned bright and the bonfire was already going. Easily a  hundred people were lounging in the sand, getting drinks from one of the  two bars that had been set up on opposite sides of the beach, or  sitting around the bonfire. From this safe distance, it looked like fun.  But he knew better.

He gritted his teeth and said, "Are you ready?"

She turned a quick smile to him, but he didn't miss the glimmer of fear in her eyes. "There's no going back, is there?"

"We'll go down, make the bare minimum of polite greetings, and then  we'll hit the water, okay?" He pointed to where a cabana had been set up  close to the water. "See all the boards? I'll get you a paddle board  and we'll be out on the waves in fifteen minutes-twenty, tops. And most  people aren't out in the water. It'll be just us."

She took a deep breath. "I'm going to hold you to that," she said,  tugging her cover-up down over her bottom before she started down the  steps.

"You look great," he told her again. He'd been telling her that ever  since they'd gotten on the plane early this morning because she'd been  extremely nervous. She'd tried to hide it, but he'd seen right through  her confident smiles and stiff shoulders.

She'd spent the plane ride with her hands glued to the armrest. She  hadn't said much of anything when they'd landed in Los Angeles to refuel  and she'd said even less when they'd taken off to fly to Catalina  Island, where Lillibeth's wedding was being held on the private lands  owned by the Wrigley family. Liberty had turned an unnatural shade of  green when they'd landed on the tiny airstrip carved into the top of the  highest point on Catalina four hours ago. He'd never seen a single  person drink so much ginger ale at one time in his life.

"You're just saying that because I'm mildly terrified," she said in an almost normal joking tone.

"I'm not. You're gorgeous independent of your fear level."

They made it to the bottom of the stairs, where she waited for him. "Fifteen minutes," she murmured, linking her hand with his.

"You'll fit in," he promised.

But as they strolled down the beach, approaching the bonfire-complete  with pig roasting on a spit-Liberty's apprehension began to affect him.

It only got worse when Lillibeth caught sight of them and waved. In the  space of time it took for her to make her way over to them, he realized  he should have listened to Liberty. He shouldn't have come. To hell  with putting on a happy face and showing the world that Lillibeth hadn't  actually trampled on his heart and, by extension, trampled on the  Warren name.

He'd thought he'd been making an acceptable compromise with his parents  by agreeing to come to this wedding, but now? With the woman who  cheated on him and publicly humiliated him strolling toward him wearing  nothing but a tiny little white string bikini and a whole lot of gold  jewelry?

Bad idea. This wasn't saving face. This was rubbing his face in his failures.

"Marcus, darling!" she cooed, as if he were a toy poodle. "Where have you been? You're looking marvelous."

"Lillibeth," was all he got out before she was planting kisses on his  cheeks. He shot a helpless look at Liberty, who rolled her eyes. "This  is quite...something."

She slid her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his  shoulder as if Liberty wasn't standing a foot away. "Isn't it? I wanted  something private and intimate." The tips of her fingers brushed against  the buttons on the front of his garish pink-and-blue Hawaiian shirt.  "Somewhere we could all just relax and...see what happened."

Warning bells went off in Marcus's head-was she flirting with him? Was  that even possible? The bride flirting with the man she sold out to the  press the night before her own wedding?

But then again, this was Lillibeth. She had not proven herself to be  the most trustworthy of significant others. Of course she could be  flirting with him. He wondered if her groom knew-or cared.                       
       
           



       

In a panic, he looked at Liberty. She was outright glaring at Lillibeth. Well. At least they were all on the same page.

Lillibeth looked up at him, her limpid blue eyes composed into some  variation of regret. "I'm so glad you came. I feel terrible about how it  ended between us, you know. I hope that we can-" she lifted one of her  smooth shoulders in a shrug and then, unbelievably, lifted on her toes  and leaned toward him "-make amends."

"I don't think that's possible." Marcus removed Lillibeth's arms from  around his waist and moved to Liberty's side. She looked as if she was  going to erupt at any moment. He took her hand in his and squeezed it.  "Lillibeth, this is my guest, Liberty Reese."

Lillibeth blinked in confusion, as if she couldn't believe he'd say no  to her. "Wait-Reese?" When Lillibeth's eyes focused, they zeroed in on  Liberty like a heat-seeking missile. "Ms. Reese? You brought your  secretary to my wedding?"

"It's nice to see you again," Liberty said in the kind of voice that  made it clear it was anything but nice. "And actually, I'm an executive  assistant."

"Really, Marcus," Lillibeth said, her nostrils flaring in a most horselike manner, as if she'd stepped in something unpleasant.

Marcus felt Liberty tense but before a catfight could break out, the situation got a whole lot worse.

"Marcus!" a high-pitched voice called out over the beach. Marisa  Warren, draped in a sheer caftan that was blindingly lime green,  sauntered up to them, a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other.  "There you are, you naughty boy!"

"Mother," he said, turning his head so she could kiss him on the cheek.  This was fine. This was going according to plan. They'd get this over  with, and then he and Liberty could hit the water. "Where's Father?"

Marisa waved the hand with the cigarette dangerously close to his shirt. "Oh, he's around, I'm sure."

Translation: he was probably screwing around. Jesus, was this entire  wedding party going to devolve into an orgy? What happens on a private  island beach stays on a private island beach? He felt nauseous.

Marisa's gaze passed over Liberty, categorizing and dismissing her in  the blink of an eye. "Dear," she said, dropping her voice to a more  conspiratorial whisper that did nothing to prevent Liberty from hearing  every word she said, "I was so hoping to see you with Emma Green. She's  such a darling young woman..."

"Oh, I love Emma," Lillibeth added, smiling at Marisa. "She'd be great  for Marcus, don't you think?" The two women shared a friendly smile.

Liberty's grip tightened on his hand to the point of pain. "No," Marcus said in a fierce whisper. "I'm here with Liberty."

"Your secretary?" Lillibeth said, trying to pull off an innocent tone and failing completely.

But it worked on Marisa-too well. Her gaze cut back to Liberty with renewed interest. "Your what?"

Marcus pried his fingers out of Liberty's grip and slipped his arm around her waist. "Mother, you know Liberty."

"What are you doing, Marcus?" Marisa hissed in a whisper, as if  everyone else were listening in. Gone was the soft, delicate voice she  used in public. Instead, her tone could cut glass. He knew the warning  when he heard it, but he refused to buckle. "We agreed," she said,  dropping her cigarette and digging her fingers into his upper arm, "that  you were going to bring a suitable date to this event."

"Liberty is perfectly suitable." Lillibeth made a highly unladylike  snorting noise. "She is my guest," he said, shaking his mother off. "I  am a grown man, Mother. I can see whomever I want."

For a moment, her mask of social acceptability snapped back into place.  "But, darling, what do you think can be gained from this?" she said,  looking at Liberty as if she weren't a woman, but a thing. A bargaining  chip.