"They look happy," a male voice said from behind her.
She turned at the sound of Stephen's voice and nodded. "They do." She glanced over her shoulder at him, looking for his fiancée. "Where's your fiancée?"
He met her gaze. "Where's your friend? Michael Medici?"
"We just got back from Grand Cayman. He had some work to do," she said.
"You're traveling in different circles these days," Stephen said. "Michael Medici's pretty high on the food chain."
"You're traveling in different circles now, too," she said. "Excuse me-"
"No," he said, blocking her way. "There's no reason for us to be awkward. You and I have known each other too long. Let me get you a drink."
She took a deep breath and looked at his familiar blond hair and blue eyes and relaxed. This was Stephen. She'd known him a long time. He'd been important to her and now he wanted to be her friend. The sting of longing she usually felt for him was absent.
"Okay," she finally said. "White wine," she said.
"I know that," he said with a smile and left to get a drink for her.
Shortly, he returned with a beer for himself and a glass of wine for her. "How did you like Grand Cayman?"
"It was amazing. The water was so clear," she said.
"And Michael, what is he like?"
She tilted her head to the side. "Complex," she said. "One time I think I've got his personality nailed, then seconds later, I learn more about him."
"Hmm," Stephen said.
"What about your job?" she asked. "Are you liking it?"
"I like being employed," he said and paused. "Britney is a means to an end."
She gasped, shocked at his response. "But you do love her."
He shrugged. "In a way, I guess," he said, lifting his beer and taking a long swallow. "But I've never gotten over you."
Dismayed by his declaration, she shook her head. "I thought you had fallen in love with Britney."
"In a way," he repeated, covering her hand with his. "But you know I've loved you forever, Bella."
"But you broke up with me."
He shrugged again. "I knew Britney could help me get ahead. But you and I had something special. There's no reason we can't continue."
She blinked. "Not if you're engaged, we can't."
"There's no reason you and I can't enjoy each other. After all, you and Michael are enjoying each other."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"If you and Michael can have an affair, why can't you and I?"
"You are engaged," she said.
"If you're willing to give yourself to Michael, why wouldn't you give yourself to me?" he asked, taking her hand and pressing his mouth against hers.
Bella jerked away, turning her face. She stood, barely holding back the desire to throw her wine in his face. "Again, because you're engaged. Michael is not."
"Bella, you're Michael Medici's mistress," he said. "I can afford you now, too."
"No," she said, nauseated by Stephen's proposal. "Never." She turned around and walked right into Michael's hard chest.
Michael looked at her and Stephen with a scathing glance. Bella opened her mouth to explain, but Michael turned toward Stephen.
"Leave her alone," he said. "You left her behind. She is with me now. If I hear of you bothering her again, your current job could suddenly disappear." He turned to Bella. "Let's go," he said and escorted her from the room to the front door. "How could you let him touch you?"
"I didn't want to. He took me by surprise," she said.
"You must have known he would be here," Michael said, his jaw twitching.
"I didn't," she said. "It's true that Stephen is friends with this couple, too, but I didn't know if he would attend. I was sure his fiancée would be with him if he did." She paused a half beat. "Besides, if I were intent on getting together with Stephen, why would I have invited you to come with me this afternoon?"
"Let's go back to my house," he said and waved for the valet. "I'll take you."
"But my car," she began.
"I'll send a driver for it," he said.
With Stephen's insulting remarks, the event had already been ruined for her, so she was all too happy to leave. The drive was silent, and Michael's brooding disposition made the air in the car so thick she could hardly breathe.
As soon as they arrived at Michael's house, he whisked her up to his bedroom. She hated for him to be upset, but she didn't feel she deserved his wrath. "I realize it may have looked damaging, but you have to believe I didn't invite his advance. You shouldn't be angry at me."
He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring with emotion. "I'm not angry at you. I'm furious with Stephen. What the hell gave him the idea that he could treat you like that?"
She shook her head, but her stomach sank. "He seemed to have figured out that you and I have an arrangement. This is what I was afraid of, that people would find out that I could be bought."
Michael sliced his hand through the air. "Under the right circumstances, everyone can be bought."
His assessment only made her feel worse. "Actions can be bought, but emotions can't."
"You may have agreed to our affair to help your aunt, but things are different. Can you tell me that the only reason you're with me is because of your aunt?"
The oxygen seemed to disappear from her lungs. "You know I can't," she whispered.
He pulled her against him. "Damn right you can't," he muttered and took her mouth. The passion between them exploded, burning boundaries, excuses and denial. Perhaps a part of her had sensed from the beginning that Michael would change her life. Perhaps the passion they'd shared in the beginning had been a clue and she'd run from it, run from him, because he was a hard, complicated man. How could she ever hope to win his heart? If he even possessed one.
With no holds barred, he stripped off her clothes and his and imprinted his body against hers. He made love to her from head to toe, bringing her to ecstasy again and again. It was as if he wanted to mark her as his woman.
But how could that be possible? He'd always made it clear their relationship was temporary, with no messy emotional ties. She couldn't deny it any longer. She felt a part of him. She craved his happiness, his safety, his wellbeing in a way she'd never experienced with Stephen.
The knowledge rolled through her like thunder. She loved Michael.
"I want to wipe the thought of every other man from your mind," he muttered against her as his muscular body pumped into her. "I want you to know that you belong to me."
Panting from their wild lovemaking and her own realization, she buried her head against his throat, damp with sweat from his restraint.
"I know," she said. "I know. I love you," she whispered into his ear. "But will you ever belong to me?"
He stiffened and thrust inside her one last time, his climax written on every cell of his body and echoed on his face.
Her heart hammered as they collapsed in each other's arms. Had she really said that? Had she really uttered the three words? Had she asked him if he would be hers? She waited, holding her breath. Maybe he would give her the words she secretly longed to hear. Maybe he would tell her that she had become so important to him that he would never let her go.
Michael stroked her hair. "Go to sleep."
Her chest twisted with disappointment. When had this happened? When had he consumed her? And how was she going to survive knowing he didn't love her?
She fell into a troubled sleep, but awakened when she felt the absence of his body. He was working out as usual, she thought. Her body craved more sleep, but a part of her craved seeing him more. She glanced at the clock, estimating he was fifteen minutes into his routine.
Dragging herself from the bed, she splashed her face with water and brushed her teeth then wandered down the hall to find him on the elliptical, his back to her. Knowing he still had free weights to go, she waited on the couch in their suite and leaned her head back against the wall.
Michael doubled his workout. He had never felt this way about a woman. He could have easily punched Bella's former lover in the face. Perhaps he should have. Maybe it would have gotten his completely alien possessiveness for Bella out of his system. The woman was having a very odd effect on him. Lord knew, he wasn't the type to take a vacation, let alone really enjoy a vacation home, but spending time with Bella without the constant press of work appealed to him. When in hell had that happened?He didn't know what the solution was. He refused to give her up, but he wasn't sure how to keep her. She was a woman full of passion and heart. He wanted both, but he didn't possess much of the latter, and hadn't for a long time. Giving up his heart had been necessary for survival. If he didn't care, then he wouldn't hurt. If he didn't hope, then he wouldn't be disappointed. Most importantly, if he didn't count on another human being to be with him, then he would know how to stand on his own. Always alone.