The Millionaire Affair(54)

Shane and Crickitt August had made their exit hours ago, amidst cheers  and handfuls of heart-shaped biodegradable confetti. Since he was  staying at Shane and Crickitt's cabin for the weekend, Aiden was left in  charge of supervising the caterer, breaking down the tent, and clearing  away the remains of the celebration.

"Do you need me to get you to a hotel, Sadie?"

Aiden turned in the direction of the slightly exasperated voice to find  Garrett gesturing with his hands. Sadie was the picture of stubbornness,  her arms folded over her ample breasts, her bottom lip jutting out.  Aiden allowed himself a small, private smile.

"You're in no condition to drive," Garrett said. He reached out to palm her arm and Sadie expertly swung out of reach.

Aiden felt kind of bad for the kid. Twenty-two-year-old Garrett Day was  far too inexperienced to handle a woman of Sadie's magnitude on his best  day, and even then …

"There a problem?" Aiden approached with his hands in his pockets,  trying to broadcast that he didn't care if Garrett was trying to take  Sadie with him when he left. He supposed he shouldn't care. Aiden had no  interest in getting into a pissing match with him, but if Garrett tried  to take Sadie when she didn't want to go, he'd have hell to pay. C's  little brother or not.

Garrett gave Aiden an assessing glance before answering. "Just making sure Sadie has a ride tonight."

"I don't need a ride. I'm staying here," she practically spat.

Aiden rocked back on his heels. She was staying at the cabin? Hell's bells. What were Crickitt and Shane up to?

"I'll make sure she gets inside okay," Aiden said.

"I'll get myself inside, thank you very much." Sadie tipped her head and  propped her hands on her nipped waist. Aiden knew he shouldn't allow  his eyes to chase the line of her slender neck to the bodice of her  dress. And he shouldn't linger at the point where her breasts met in  shadowed cleavage, but he did it anyway. Good thing he was watching her.  A moment later, she took a step toward the cabin and wobbled in her  dangerously tall heels.

Both men rushed forward to steady her. Aiden got there first. A victory.  He gripped her waist and Sadie's hand came up to clutch the front of  his shirt. He desperately tried to ignore the warmth spreading across  his chest, the feel of her against him. Even though the circumstances  were all wrong, the timing completely off, there was no denying this  gorgeous woman belonged in his arms. Sadie didn't let go, and Aiden  didn't think he could unless someone physically pried his hands off her.         

     



 

He turned his attention to Garrett. "You can head out. I have her."  Aiden held his eye. Dared him to argue. Garrett frowned, and for a  second Aiden thought he might, but then Crickitt's mother, queen of  impeccable timing, intruded.

"Garrett, we have the car. Is Sadie …  Oh! Aiden, perfect." She sent him an approving smile. "Do you need my help?"

"No, Mrs. D, I'll make sure she's all right."

She made a tsking sound. "Poor dear had an entire magnum of champagne."

Garrett didn't look as if he wanted to leave but did anyway, walking his  mother out of the tent. Maybe he'd come to the conclusion Sadie was  more than he could handle after all.

Aiden guided Sadie to the house as she teetered on those pink stilts she  called shoes. He had fond memories of her shoes. Fond because the added  inches brought her within kissable reach. His heart gave an echoing  ache. "You should take those off," he said, stopping short of offering  to carry her. He'd lifted her in his arms once before. One year ago.  Felt more like a dozen.

"I'm fine," she said, tipping again. Her argument was garbled but genuine.

"I assume your things are already in your room?" He tucked her against  him as they stepped inside the cabin, then shut the door behind them. He  also assumed their matchmaking friends had put them both upstairs.  Since there were only two bedrooms on this floor, and since he was  staying in the master on the right, he assumed Sadie's was to the left.

She mumbled something and he moved to settle her into the recliner.

"No," she protested, locking her arms around his neck. "I have to get  out of this stupid dress." She gazed up at him, her brown eyes slightly  glassy.

Aiden swallowed thickly, taking in all that blonde hair falling in waves  around her heart-shaped face. She always was beautiful. And those lips.  She licked her bottom one and he was half-tempted to lean in for a  taste.

She's drunk, you idiot.

She started toward his room and he caught her hips and steered her away. "Not in there."

She spun on him, narrowing her eyes. "Why not?"

Lie. But he couldn't lie to Sadie. He never could. Even when it would  have benefited him the most. "Because my stuff's in there," he mumbled.

She blinked at him and he readied for a fight. It didn't come. "Fine.  I'm too tired to argue. And I have to get this off." She moved one hand  to the bodice of her dress and wiggled it back and forth, sending her  breasts jiggling inside the fitted top.

Aiden stared. Actually stared. Like when he'd found his older brother's  stash of Playboys for the first time. No one filled out their clothes  like Sadie.

She cleared her throat and he jerked his eyes north. "Help me?"

Crap.

He was being tested, here, in the cruelest way. She was asking him to  undress her? Exposing herself to him, and Aiden to her naked body? He  couldn't do it while sporting a woody or she'd cut him off at the knees.  Drunk or not.

Aiden mentally tied a noose around his mojo. And pulled. "Sure thing."

He followed her into the room and she dropped on the bed, falling back  with an oomph! She toed at her shoes until they hit the floor. Aiden  retrieved them, dangerous-looking spikes covered with winking  rhinestones. How women walked in these things, he'd never know. Sadie  told him once that because of her diminutive size she preferred the  tallest shoes. He'd concurred at the time. Without them, Sadie only came  to the middle of his chest. He was in favor of any contraption if it  meant bringing her lips closer to his.

And now he was thinking of kissing her. Again.

He shook his head to wipe away the memories of the intense kisses they'd  shared in the past: the sound of her truncated breaths against his ear,  the feel of her fingernails spearing into his hair. He tracked back to  the bed, jaw set, brain focused squarely on the Stay Puft Marshmallow  Man. He pulled back the covers intending to bury the tempting vision of  her breasts bursting from the top of her dress, but she rolled onto her  side before he could.

"Unzip," Sadie demanded, her manicured nails fumbling at the back of her  dress. When he hesitated, Sadie shot him a displeased look over her  shoulder, crinkling her heavily made-up eyes at him.

Even sexier when she's angry, he thought with a groan.

Aiden reached for the zipper, ignoring his impulse to go slowly, listen  to every snick as he examined all of her smooth, porcelain flesh beneath  the bridesmaid's dress. It'd been too long since he'd been allowed to  touch this woman. Too. Effing. Long. The zipper parted to reveal what  appeared to be a sleeveless white straitjacket with about a hundred  hooks.         

     



 

"Now this." She did a backward point.

Aiden paused. The thing looked as penetrable as Fort Knox. "Can't you sleep in it?"

"Just do it. Nothing you haven't seen before." She turned her head at an  awkward angle so she could look at him. A little pleat formed on her  brow as if she was reconsidering. "I mean, not me, but other girls." She  flopped her head onto the pillow with a whump.

Thanks for the reminder, Aiden thought tersely.

He and Sadie hadn't had a chance to get that far. Okay, that wasn't  true. They'd had plenty of chances. Each time they saw one another, the  dates had lasted at least six or seven hours. Or overnight. They  couldn't seem to escape one another, or stop talking, or stop touching.  She'd seen him stripped down to his briefs, and he'd seen her bare legs  poking out of one of his T-shirts, but they'd always stopped short of  going further. Both of them had been hurt before and neither of them was  anxious to repeat their painful pasts.

So, yes, Sadie was right. He hadn't technically seen her naked, but he  had felt enough of her bare flesh under his palms to give his  imagination a hell of a show.

He scooted the bedside lamp closer to investigate the contraption she'd  bound herself in. He could dismantle a car; surely he could handle this.  Turns out he had to make the thing tighter before the hooks would  release. Each time, Sadie grunted, until he got halfway down her back  and she blew out a whooshing breath. He made quick work of the rest.

"Thank God." She sat up, one hand covering the sagging top of her gown,  withdrew the corset, and dropped it unceremoniously to the floor. "I owe  you, Downey. Now help me out of this dress and go away."