all made sense now. His reluctance for intimacy, his emotional distance. Her earlier bridal jitters turned to cramping nausea. He was marrying his way into a business deal.
Lena’s overarched brows drew together above her gleaming eyes. “You look a little green. Are you feeling okay?”
“Of course she’s not,” Sierra snapped. “What are you thinking, coming in here and spewing ugly rumors like that? What kind of person goes around gossiping about her brother on his wedding day?”
“Stepbrother,” Lena corrected with a pout. “My dad married his mom when we were teenagers. And you’re the nasty one. I was just saying that Belle’s lucky that Mitch loves her enough to give up his dreams of his own development firm to work for her father. I wasn’t insinuating anything else.”
Lena wasn’t his real sister? Why hadn’t he told her? Belle didn’t know why, but that was the last straw. She stood, the stool pressing against her full skirt like the bars on a cage. She wanted to run, but where? To Mitch? Hardly.
“The hell you weren’t trying to cause trouble,” Sierra growled at Lena. Their voices seemed to be coming from a long way away, muffled by the buzzing in Belle’s head. “You’re intimating that Belle’s father bought her a groom. Like she or Mitch would be that desperate.”
“Desperate? No. But when you put it that way, the wedding does sound a little fishy, doesn’t it?” Lena gave them a wounded look, then headed for the door. Once there, she glanced over her shoulder. “Of course, I’m sure Belle knows Mitch loves her more than any silly promotion. I mean, who gets married without hearing vows of love? And Mitch never lies, not even for a business deal.”
Sierra’s cuss words hit Lena’s retreating back. The brunette stormed to the door.
“Sierra,” was all Belle said.
“I’m taking her down. That bitch isn’t getting away with ruining your day.”
For just one second, Belle let herself imagine Sierra jumping Lena and pummeling the smirk off her face. For the first time in her life, she considered diving in to help instead of yelling encouragement from the sidelines. Unlike her friend, Belle hated arguments.
Before she could decide whether or not to encourage Sierra to chase the woman’s passive-aggressive ass down, Belle’s father strode through the door. Handsome as ever in his tux, he winked at Sierra, then gave his only child a doting smile.
“You’re a beautiful bride, sweetheart. Mitch is a lucky man.”
Lucky? Really. It sounded like Mitch and her dad were the lucky ones. After all, they’d made the deal between them. She felt like the booby prize. She sucked in a shuddering breath, trying to calm the nausea rolling through her system. It would be so easy to just go through with this. She wasn’t stupid. She’d known Mitch didn’t love her. She wasn’t sure she loved him, although she’d been willing to convince herself she did. But, like this stupid school-girl wedding dress, she’d been trying to give him whatever he wanted. And he couldn’t even give her the truth?
Tears stung her eyes as she mentally kissed happy-ever-after, and all that crap, goodbye. Which didn’t suck nearly as much as being cheated out of her wedding night.
Belle swallowed hard and looked into the face of the only man she’d ever felt safe loving. “Daddy? Did you offer to make Mitch your partner?”
Oblivious as usual to his daughter’s emotional state, Franklin Forsham shrugged and patted her shoulder. “Not to worry, sweetie. I won’t work him too hard.”
Belle’s gaze met Sierra’s. Sympathetic tears washed away the anger in her friend’s vivid blue eyes.
Numb now, Belle looked past her father’s broad shoulders through the open door to the archway leading to the chapel. She could see the swags of orchids and pink roses, hear the soft tones of the harp. Her storybook wedding awaited.
She couldn’t do it. She wasn’t a negotiating point or a piece of property to be acquired in a business deal.
“I can’t go through with the wedding,” she declared, gathering the slick folds of her white satin skirt in her fist. “I won’t sell myself. I might be willing to change, to compromise, but I draw the line at being lied to and cheated.”
“What are you talking about?” Franklin’s face turned white, then red. Hands clenched, he looked like he wanted to hit someone. “Mitch cheated on you?”
Scared of the anger on her father’s face, of the pain pouring through her, Belle just shrugged. Cheated on her, cheated her, what was the difference? Emotion choked her, heated tears washed down her cheeks. Unable to hold back her sobs, she threw herself into her father’s arms.
This was the last time she’d ever let a man, or the promise of hot sex, mean a damned thing to her.
Chapter 1
Six years later
“I FOUND a replacement for Gloria, Mr. Carter. Everyone says this is the best event planner on the west coast.”
Unspoken was the understanding that Mitch would accept nothing less than the best. Which was difficult, considering his luxury resort was six weeks from opening to the public and had been beset by one problem after another. The most recent was the loss of the woman he’d contracted to handle all the resort events.
“Call me Mitch,” he absently told his new assistant. He motioned to the vacant seat opposite his desk, but she shook her head, preferring to stand.
She’d been here a couple of weeks, but Diana was still jumpy and nervous. He knew he was demanding of his employees and it definitely made it easier to demand if they were on a first-name basis, so she’d better get over her timidity soon. They were almost at the end of his Mr. Nice Guy two-week break-in period.
He took the papers she handed him and in one glance was thrown back in time. Shocked, Mitch stared at the glossy dossier. The black-and-white photo didn’t do justice to Belle Forsham’s fairy-like beauty. It didn’t capture the gleam of her tousled blond curls, or the wicked tilt of her sea-green eyes. The shadows accented her sharp features, the light reflecting off her smile.
The best? Yeah, she was. Good enough to make a man stupid. He glared at that smile, irritated with his body’s reaction. Belle Forsham was pure trouble. He knew she was, and still he got hard remembering the taste of her lips. He tried to dull his body’s reaction by visualizing himself standing, alone, at the altar.
Yeah, the anger definitely dimmed his desire.
“Mr. Carter?” Diana interrupted his pathetic obsessing. “Do you want me to contact Eventfully Yours? They’re perfect for the job given the scope of the resort’s needs and what you are looking for in an event planner.”
“I’d rather not work with this particular company,” he said, making it sound like he’d put some thought into the decision. In reality, no thought was required. Despite how often she showed up in his dreams, usually nude, Belle was at the bottom of the list of women he wanted to see. And she was definitely the last one he’d consider depending on for any aspect of his success.
After all, who knew better
