The Bachelor Contract(32)

“Maybe tell him that—or better yet, tattoo it on his forehead, since he keeps forgetting.”

Suddenly nervous, she didn’t know what to do with her hands or her body or really anything. So she stood there. Like a loser. Totally out of her element. Gulping, she tugged at her white strapless dress. All she knew was that the silk felt amazing against her legs and that it had a train that danced around her ankles.

“I’m disappointed,” Brant said in that raspy, familiar voice of his.

Hurt, she sucked in a breath, only to have him take a step closer and grab her hand.

“Disappointed I can’t see your face.”

“I could have boils under this mask and you’d never know.”

“With a body like that, would any man in his right mind really care?” he stunned her by saying. Wait, didn’t he know it was her? He had to, right? Unless he was already drunk?

“I can’t decide if that’s insulting or really sweet,” she said with a shaky laugh, looking away at all the rest of the colorful blurs moving around her.

“I’ve been accused of both on multiple occasions.” He chuckled, which added to her discomfort. “Now, what can I get you to drink?”

“White wine.” Idiot. She tolerated wine. She loved fruity drinks, but she’d said the first thing that popped into her head.

“George,” Brant called, “white wine for the lady and the usual for me.”

“Lime, Mr. Wellington?” George asked.

“You know it.”

Wellington.

Her entire body seized. Just hearing someone else saying his name did bad things to her.

She shivered. The years had made him into a very angry man, that she knew; what she hadn’t counted on was the years molding his body into the perfect male specimen just begging to be licked from head to toe.

Great, now she was thinking about licking him?

Stupid massages. Stupid, stupid, kisses.

Time slowed as her fuzzy brain put together pieces that didn’t fit, that shouldn’t have fit. She should have known yesterday, when Cole was acting weird, when her body responded so erotically to Brant’s.

“Excuse me.” She barely managed to get the words out before Brant tugged her hand and pulled her flush against him.

“Are you all right?” He steadied her, grabbing her by the waist.

That damn touch. So familiar. It had been everything. Her anchor. Her life.

And suddenly she was transported to a time when his hands were always on her, when he couldn’t get enough of her, when she thought she might die if he didn’t kiss her.

So many things had changed.

“Yes, I’m…” Her hands were shaking so hard she couldn’t think straight. Was it selfish? That the last thing she wanted to do was tell him who she really was, that the girl beneath the mask was in fact the girl he’d both kissed and yelled at earlier. It was only a matter of time before someone recognized her and said something.

Emotions warred against one another. Hatred that he was hitting on her. How many women had he been with since they were married? Maybe it was more jealousy than hatred, but they both stemmed from anger that he’d been with others when, for her, it had always been him.

And Cole.

Great, now she felt guilty about Cole. Damn it!

Why did Brant have to be the only man to ever make her feel anything? Why did he have to be her soul mate? Brant Wellington, no matter how arrogant and angry, was clearly not someone you just got over.

It burned that the only man who made her feel alive wanted nothing to do with her—would shove her away if she peeled back her mask.

“Maybe you should have water instead?” he joked, releasing her a bit and placing a glass in her hand.

“Dance with me!” Cole announced, jerking her away from Brant’s attention. She wasn’t sure if she was thankful or annoyed, as he pulled her toward the floor and whispered in her ear.

“Wasn’t sure if I was playing the white knight that saves you from the evil king or the white knight that falls on his own sword so he can actually have a chance at you.”

She smirked beneath her mask and then tears welled in her eyes.

“Shit.” Cole sighed. “I was supposed to fall on my own sword, then? Is that how this date is going to end?”

“No.” She brought a shaky hand to his shoulder as he twirled her around. “It’s just…my body has a hard time reminding my brain that he’s the evil king, that’s all.”

Get yourself together, Nik!

“You looked like you’d seen a ghost,” Cole whispered.

She snorted and looked down. “It feels that way. Whenever Brant and I talk, it’s like the past is exploding in front of my face.”