Unexpectedly His(49)

He kissed her softly, reverently, and began to thrust deep inside her. He wanted to hear her cry out his name again and again, until she understood that she belonged to him. And when her arms came around him, tugging him to her, chest to chest, heart to heart, her lips pressed to his throat in a sweet, desperate kiss, he finally followed her over the edge.

A soft ocean breeze drifted in from the open window. Cool. Sweet. Sounds of the carnival filtered in from far away, but there was nowhere else in the world Nick would rather be than here, right now, in this moment of pure sensual satisfaction. Marianne curled against him, her body supple and warm. His fingers skimmed her hip as she gazed up at him. “So…that was kind of incredible,” she said, her glasses all off-kilter.

He smiled and pulled the frames away from her face so he could look at her. She was so crazy-beautiful. And there definitely was something about the glasses—the process of stripping them away, revealing her sweet blue eyes, as clear and intoxicating as a summer sky.

He twisted around and set her glasses on the nightstand and turned back to kiss her again. “Damned incredible if you ask me.”

Marianne looked up at him through her lashes. “Only another twelve hours or so before we have to pack up your environmentally challenged car and drive back to Manhattan.”

“Only twelve hours? What should we do with twelve hours?”

“Well…we could sleep…” She ran a peep-toe heel along the inside of his calf. “Unless you have a better idea.”

“Honey, I have all kinds of better ideas.” Nick reached out and pulled her on top of him, all hard and ready for another chance to live out his cake girl fantasy. “No sleep required.”





Chapter Fourteen


“Whatever happened, don’t let your fear of the past control your plans for the future.”

—mantelligence.com

Every minute of the weekend with Marianne was fantastic, but now Nick was back at work with a shitload of issues to deal with and a few worries about John McBride’s legal issues potentially blowing up in his face. Worries he placed at the feet of his little sister.

“Jesus, Jane, don’t you get it? I’m an attorney.” He punched up the volume on his cell and walked to the far side of his office with half a mind to strangle her. Slowly. With his bare hands. “You are the matchmaker who set me up with a woman who is potential career kryptonite.” And he was too deep in the relationship to back out now.

He thrust his free hand into his hair and tried to stay calm. While it was true his sister had set him up with his temporary fiancée, if he was honest, the shitstorm he was in now was entirely his fault. He was the guy who’d promised his boss he could deliver the perfect fiancée. He was the guy who’d been arrogant enough to fall into a relationship with his sister’s off-limits friend, and then cross way over the off-limits line.#p#分页标题#e#

“Nick, you’re not a criminal attorney, you’re a finance guy.” His sister’s impatient sigh echoed through the fiber optics.

“Yes, that’s right.” Frustration tightened his jaw and paced across his office, practically wearing a groove in the corporate industrial carpet. “A financial attorney who deals with a truckload of private equity, and my fiancée’s father is a felon convicted of insider trading.”

“A small white-collar crime.”

Like a white-collar crime amounted to nothing. Jesus, reputation was everything in his business. He lowered his voice and cupped the cell in his hand. “Not a small deal over at Morgan Wealth & Trust. Much closer to money laundering than a bank error.”

Goddammit. He balled his hand into a fist and strode over to the window, looking for something to hit. He was far from perfect. Hell, it’s not like he hadn’t boosted a lawn chair or two or scammed pizza slices out the back door of Salvatore’s back in Brooklyn, but insider trading was no kid’s misdemeanor. If the firm caught wind of the fact that he was marrying into a family with a felony conviction, his partnership bid would evaporate in a cloud of legal smoke. Not that he was really marrying Marianne, but hell…she’d made him actually consider that his work-centric life was empty. She made him feel…damn, all the clichés…she made him feel complete. God, just having that thought made him want to punch something.

But was he really willing to blow his dream job and everything he’d worked for? And if he did take a stab at a relationship that lasted longer than a weekend, would he be capable of honoring a commitment? He’d seen his father gamble and drink himself out of his marriage. Why the hell did he think he’d be any different? Sure, he’d always tried to be, but…