On the Verge of I Do Read online

  He was breathing hard when they separated. So was she, he was satisfied to notice.

  Her lips were swollen a rosy pink from his kisses, her eyes dazed and unfocused. And whether it was the wind blowing in off the Atlantic or the aftereffects of their kiss, she seemed to sway on her feet.

  It was the perfect opportunity to sweep her away. Back to his suite and straight into his bed. She was stunned, pliant, and most likely confused about both his actions toward her and her feelings for him.

  But as much as he wanted to jump at that excuse, he couldn’t. He couldn’t take advantage of her. At least not this way. Not yet.

  Lifting a hand to her mouth, he used the side of his thumb to wipe away a smudge of lip gloss. He liked it; the smear and bee-stung look made him feel possessive.

  Taking a deep breath of salty ocean air to fortify himself, he dropped his arm and clasped one of the limp hands at her side. “Come on,” he said, turning on his heel and tugging her with him.

  Hurrying to keep up with his long strides, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  He slowed his steps and let her catch up, walk beside him rather than running behind. Just because he was frustrated on a massive scale—sexually and otherwise—didn’t mean he should take those frustrations out on her.

  Pulling her beside him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. He held her close, but not too close. Familiarly enough that she would get the point, but not so much that they would garner curious looks from other guests. Or worse yet, his employees.

  “I promised you a tour,” he told her. “I’m going to give you one before we get distracted and move on to more pleasurable things.”

  Eight

  This was not the weekend Kara had envisioned on the drive down to the island. Even knowing it would be difficult for her to spend so much time in such close contact with Eli, she’d never expected this.

  How could he suddenly be so interested in her when he hadn’t been before? It wasn’t just that until a few days ago, he’d been engaged to Laurel. He’d never shown an interest in her.

  Had he?

  She tried to think back on their history together, from middle school on. To all of the times they’d spent together and their countless interactions.

  He’d always been kind to her, friendly. But then, he’d been kind and friendly to everyone.

  He’d always been there for her, it seemed, through thick and thin. When she’d broken up with her high school boyfriend…when she’d been torn over which college to attend…when her father had died. And in the good times, too—he’d attended her graduations and birthday parties, celebrated with her after the opening of Prestige Events.

  But surely he was like that with all his close friends. She imagined he’d been run nearly ragged ever since her father’s death. As close as Eli was with the entire Kincaid clan, she was sure each and every one of them had called him at some point since the murder. She was equally sure that he’d spent hours listening to each and every one of them, offering his sympathies and support the same as he had with her.

  So that didn’t make her particularly special, did it?

  Yet when she was with him, she felt special.

  Of course, her feelings for him had never been in question. She’d always been enamored of him, always had this dreamy, schoolgirl sort of crush on him.

  It was his feelings for her that she wasn’t quite as certain of.

  Was he toying with her?

  At that thought, her heart squeezed almost painfully. If that was the case, she honestly thought she might hurt him. She had carried a torch for him much too long to be seduced and then discarded.

  But somehow, she didn’t think that could be true. She’d never known Eli to be less than one-hundred-percent honest about anything, and couldn’t believe he would ever be so cruel as to make sport of her affections.

  But if he wasn’t tormenting her, then what was he doing?

  It was almost too much to hope that he might truly be interested in her, especially so soon after being engaged to her sister. And yet, here they were.

  Kara swallowed hard, doing her best to act as though she was paying attention, while in reality, her mind and pulse were racing.

  Eli had shown her the portions of the grounds that were often used for events. He’d taken her through more ballrooms of varying sizes and given her a tour of the kitchens used to cater on-site celebrations.

  Now they were headed back to his suite. At least, that’s where she assumed they were going, since there wasn’t much more for her to see at the resort that was related to event planning.

  He’d promised to schedule an appointment with Diane during their visit so they could sit down and go over dates and figures and paperwork. Kara would need to review how things were currently being run in order to know where there was room for improvement, but she suspected Eli was as reluctant to meet with the other woman as Kara was.

  After all, Kara was here to check her work, point out the flaws in her business acumen, and possibly even take over her position as event coordinator for Ocean Breezes. Frankly, Kara wasn’t much looking forward to that face-to-face.

  At the moment, however, Kara had bigger problems, bigger dilemmas. They were on their way back to Eli’s suite of rooms, and she had no idea what she was going to do once they arrived.

  Worse, she had no idea what he was going to do. Or try to do. Or expect.

  She was torn between feeling as though she was walking around in a fairy tale, whisked away for a romantic weekend by a handsome, charming prince…and being swamped by insecurities and guilt.

  It was wrong. Giving in to her weakness for Eli was only going to complicate matters. She might be able to get away with it here on Seabrook Island, with no close family to take note of her actions and few prying eyes to watch her every move.

  Well, there were prying eyes. The majority of Eli’s staff seemed unable to tear their gazes from them any time they passed by. Of course, the fact that Eli had set them up to both stay in his private quarters didn’t help matters.

  As they reached the bank of elevators, Eli punched the button to call the car.

  The elevator doors slid open and they stepped inside. Eli swiped his pass key and punched the button for his private suites.

  The doors slid closed, shutting them in together, alone. One minute she was staring at their blurry reflection in the polished silver of the double elevator doors. The next, she was spinning like a top, coming to rest between the hard wall of Eli’s broad chest at her front and the cool steel of the doors at her back.

  “I can’t wait one more minute to do this,” he growled.

  She opened her mouth to ask Do what? but didn’t get to voice the first syllable before his mouth crushed down on hers. It took her by surprise, cutting off her oxygen and making her muscles go limp as noodles.

  Against her better judgment, when his tongue licked the seam of her lips and he attempted to nudge his way inside, she let him. It was just a kiss, after all. Just one…tiny…kiss.

  Somewhere over their heads, a bell dinged. The sound didn’t have time to register in her fog-laden brain before the doors behind her slid open and she fell backward.

  Eli stumbled after her, catching them both before they ended up in an undignified pile on the foyer floor. Keeping them on their feet, he continued backing her across the entryway until she was once again stopped by a wall. He pinned her there with his body, touching her from collarbones to knee bones.

  He kissed her again, not nearly as gently as he had in the elevator. If the kiss in the elevator could be called gentle, which it couldn’t. But he didn’t wait for her compliance, didn’t give her time to adjust or a chance to open her mouth in invitation. He simply took what he wanted.

  For long, languid moments, they stood there, tasting, touching. His hands clutched her waist. His erection pressed into her belly. In return, she pawed at his shoulders, her nails kneading him through the mate
rial of his suit jacket.

  When he released her mouth, she gasped. Then, while she was sucking air into her scalded, much-abused lungs, he caught her off guard by scooping her into his arms.

  She let out a startled yip to find herself suddenly horizontal, literally swept off her feet.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think?” he retorted, not the least bit out of breath, even though she was still struggling not to pant.

  Now that he wasn’t muddling her mind with steamy kisses and subtle strokes of his hands up and down her sides, she could almost think straight, and she knew this wasn’t right. Knew they couldn’t do what he was carrying her off to do.

  Pressing a palm to his rock-solid shoulder and wiggling slightly in his embrace, she said, “Eli, no. We can’t do this.”

  “Yes,” he told her in no uncertain terms. “We can.”

  Reaching the bedroom doorway, he elbowed open the pocket doors and headed straight for the massive king-size mattress at its center. The entire room was decorated in shades of the ocean—sand, turquoise, salmon—and the bed was made up with a thick golden comforter with enough pillows against the woven bamboo headboard to build a fort.

  That’s all she had time to notice, though, as he carried her to the side and set her on her feet so he could begin tossing those pillows onto the floor and tearing back the covers. Snowy white sheets in what she was sure was the finest Egyptian cotton lay beneath, just begging to be dirtied and rumpled.

  Uh-oh. She took a step back in self-preservation.

  Eli noticed her retreat immediately.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he mumbled, grabbing her wrist and tugging her toward him.

  Her hands went up to stop her from bumping into his chest, but he apparently wanted her to do just that, because he kept tugging until she made contact.

  “We can’t do this, Eli,” she said again, trying to make him see sense.

  “Yes,” he returned with even more resolve than before, “we can.”

  He was all hard edges and single-minded determination, but when he looked at her, something in him softened. His eyes turned from coffee-black to melted milk-chocolate-brown and his lips parted ever so slightly. Offering her a small, cajoling smile, he brushed the side of his thumb back and forth across her cheek.

  “Don’t say no,” he told her, barely above a whisper. “I know you want me. As much as I want you.”

  The words, spoken in such a heartfelt tone, made Kara’s throat clog with emotion. Oh, how she wanted to believe them—wanted to believe him.

  But she knew better. She knew this was just a momentary whim for him, a rebound fling to help him get over Laurel. And what better way to roll getting over and getting back at his ex-fiancée into one neat little package than by having a quick, tawdry, meaningless affair with her younger sister?

  “What about Laurel? What about—”

  He shushed her in that age-old fashion of placing a finger against her mouth. “She’s not here, Kara. She never was. I’ve never brought her here, and she isn’t a factor, not in this.”

  He continued to stare into her eyes, his hands moving to her hair and doing wicked things to her scalp. Things that made her want to moan. Things that turned her brain to mush.

  Then he stopped trying to smooth-talk her. He stopped talking altogether. Tilting her head back, he slanted his mouth across hers.

  She brought her arms up, linking them around his neck even as every other bone in her body turned to butter. It was useless. She was powerless against his charm, his blatant sexuality, against his very personality, every aspect of which she’d known and admired since childhood.

  She might hate herself—and him—in the morning, but at the moment, she didn’t care. Inside her head, she heard the immortal words of that famous albeit fictional Charlestonian, Rhett Butler: Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.

  And she didn’t. Not when Eli was kissing her like a starving man at his own personal oasis. Not when his arms were wrapped around her and her breasts were pressed to his chest. Not when the very thing she’d been wanting for half her life was finally within her grasp.

  To hell with shoulds and shouldn’ts, maybes and what-ifs. To hell with reputations, and propriety, and all the confessions and atonements she’d have to make once she got home.

  Right here, right now, she was going to be selfish. Not just give in to Eli’s successful persuasion, but do what she wanted. Take what she wanted.

  And she wanted Eli. More than ever before. More than she’d thought possible, even after so many years of wishing, dreaming, fantasizing. Lusting from afar.

  His hands were at her abdomen, fumbling with the miniscule buttons running down the front of her blouse. That small display of susceptibility on his part actually worked to make Kara feel more in control, more sure of herself.

  Leaning back, she let him work. Not only because this was part of her fantasy, but she suspected it was also part of his.

  His fantasy. A shiver raced down her spine at the realization that—at this moment, at least—Elijah James Houghton wanted her as much as she’d always wanted him. It tightened her throat, made it hard for her to breathe.

  Then her blouse floated open and Eli’s hands slid inside to cup her breasts, teasing the nipples through the lace of her bra with the pads of his thumbs, and she was not only breathing, but gasping with delight.

  His mouth quickly followed the direction of his hands. Bending her back over one arm, he suckled the material, dampening both it and the skin beneath.

  Kara could have sworn her head was spinning. Literally whirling around on her neck, taking the room with it.

  From head to toe, she flushed with heat, her body slowly beginning to incinerate from the inside out. And they’d barely gotten started.

  With his free hand, he found the tab of the zipper at the back of her skirt and dragged it down, the snick-snick-snick of the teeth echoing through the room like the boom of a cannon. He shifted just enough to let the garment fall past her hips to the floor.

  Giving the back of her blouse a tug, he pulled it off her shoulders and down her arms until it followed the direction of the skirt, landing in a puddle at her feet. Without those two pieces of clothing, she was left in only her bra, panties and strappy sandals.

  It was too late to turn back, and no matter how much she was wearing, Eli would have had her out of it in a blink.

  Catching her off guard, he released her breast and pulled her upright, then in practically the same motion, scooped her up and tossed her to the center of the bed. She bounced there before using her elbows in an attempt to sit up.

  “Ah, ah, ah.” He gave her a dark look, pinning her in place with his expression alone. “Don’t move. Not one muscle.”

  Still standing beside the bed, gazing down at her without ever breaking eye contact, he started to flick open the buttons of his starched white dress shirt. One at a time, methodically, with only one hand. The other was at his belt, slowly loosening the thin strip of leather.

  “I might have to tie you to the headboard,” he said, arching a brow as he tugged the tails of his shirt from the waist of his slacks. He shrugged out of what was probably a five-hundred-dollar suit jacket and the shirt beneath both at once, kicking off his shoes in the same motion.

  “You’ve been so jumpy and so reluctant to be with me,” he continued, slipping into a deep Southern drawl. “I don’t want you hopping up and trying to escape at an inopportune moment.”

  The sight of his bare chest had her drooling. It was broad and sleek, with just a smattering of crisp, dark hair forming a T-shaped pattern across his pectorals and down to his abdomen. The muscles there rippled, attesting to the time he put in at the gym and calling to her like a half-off shoe sale at Saks.

  Every inch of him was golden and lovely.

  She licked her lips, watching as he lowered his fly and let the pants drop to the floor with a whoosh. Her heart stopped thudding in her chest, moving up to
lodge firmly in her throat. She tried to swallow, but failed the minute she glanced at him again—from head to toe and back up, getting stuck somewhere in between.

  Looking at him, she had no problem with his threat to restrain her. The very thought of being tied down, at his mercy, made her go hot and turned her insides to molten lava. Never mind that the shape of the headboard didn’t allow for anyone to tie so much as a shoestring to it; she would happily help him scout out other locations.

  Even though she sounded like a pack-a-day smoker, she smacked her lips and swallowed until she could speak. “I’m not going anywhere,” she told him in a graveled voice. “Not this time.”

  Nine

  A jolt of lust tore through Eli at her words. He was pretty sure that if she’d tried to bolt, he’d have gone after her. Naked as a jaybird, if need be.

  Never mind that his reputation as a hard-nosed business tycoon would be tarnished beyond redemption if his employees and the resort’s affluent guests saw him racing across the shore after a half-naked woman. If it meant catching and keeping Kara Kincaid, it would be well worth the embarrassment and a short stint in the local mental ward.

  But hearing her say she had no intention of running, no intention of changing her mind or trying to get away from him again relieved him of those worries. It also set his blood ablaze and made him want to get her naked as quickly as possible.

  Climbing onto the bed, he advanced on her. She shimmied back a few short inches, but didn’t get far before he caged her in with his body. His hands flat to the mattress on either side of her head, his knees against her thighs.

  “Now you can’t get away, even if you want to,” he rumbled, staring down into those flashing green eyes.

  “I don’t want to,” she said.

  His entire body twitched. His skin began to tingle. And for the first time since adolescence, finishing almost before he’d gotten started was a very real possibility.

  Careful not to touch her with any other part of his body, he dropped his mouth and kissed her. Slowly at first, savoring the taste and texture of her lips. Smooth and soft like rose petals or spun silk. Sweet and tangy like the strawberries they’d eaten earlier, with a hint of honey from the gloss she was fond of wearing. He nibbled, suckled, teased her as well as himself.