He must have interpreted her reaction as a rejection, because he released her and pulled away. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I’ve been fantasizing about doing that all night. All week.”
So had she, and she wasn’t going to blow it. She wasn’t going to let her fear of the unknown ruin this chance for a night with the man of her dreams.
She grinned her most wicked smile and slid her hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. “Then why did you stop?”
This time when he kissed her, he didn’t stop. And when he took her to bed, he proved to be everything she had imagined.
And more.
Last night had been the most amazing, terrifying and wonderful night of Lexi’s life. She’d had no idea two people could connect—could be in perfect sync—the way she and Mitch had been. She had tried to hide the fact that she was a virgin, but of course he’d figured it out. She’d worried that he might be angry or put off, but the opposite had been true. He’d been so sweet and gentle with her. What could have been a painful, awkward experience had been more beautiful than she had ever imagined possible.
The instant she woke the next morning, cradled in a cocoon of warm silk sheets that still held the scent of Mitch’s aftershave, she knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t be marrying Lance. She wanted Mitch. And she was sure that if she pleaded her case to her father, he would see that the other Brody brother would be a much better match. As far as he was concerned, it was only the Brody name that was important.
Before she even opened her eyes she smiled to herself and began to imagine what life would be like married to Mitch. How happy she would be because they would love each other. She imagined what their children would look like. They would have a son who would be tall and fit with Mitch’s dark hair, olive tones and striking features, and a girl, pretty and graceful with Lexi’s creamy complexion and blond hair.
They would have a ceremony in the garden at her father’s Houston estate, then honeymoon somewhere warm and exotic. Maybe Cabo San Lucas, or the Bahamas. And if Mitch was agreeable, they could try to conceive while they were there. What better time to get pregnant than on her honeymoon? She had always wanted to be a mother, to have at least three or four children.
Lexi heard movement in the room and realized Mitch was already up. She peered at the clock on the bedside table, surprised to find that it was barely 7:00 a.m.
“Are you awake?” Mitch asked.
She rolled to face him, ready to smile and say, why don’t you climb back in bed and find out, but he was already showered and dressed, and when she saw the look on his face, her heart sank. Then she realized, of course he would look distressed. He was about to steal his brother’s fiancée. Maybe he thought she loved Lance.
She sat up, holding the sheet against her bare breasts. “Good morning.”
“We need to talk,” he said.
She nodded, barely able to contain her excitement. Here it comes. He was going to tell her he loved her, and beg her to marry him instead of Lance. Of course she would say yes. Then he would undress, and climb back into bed, and she would spend the rest of the morning showing him just how much she loved him. Then everything would be perfect, just like the happily-ever-afters in the romance novels.
His expression somber, he said, “I don’t suppose I have to tell you that we’ve made a drastic mistake.”
Wait, what?
A mistake?
She had to replay the words several times in her mind, convinced she must have misunderstood.
“No one can ever know that this happened,” he continued, his tone grim. “Especially my brother.”
He might as well have reached into her chest and ripped out her heart, because that was the way it felt. The fierce, hollow ache was nearly unbearable.
For years she had endured her father’s criticism and indifference. No matter what she did to please him, however closely she played by his rules, it was never enough to win his love. Now, once again, she had been rejected by a man whose affection she desperately craved.
Maybe there was something wrong with her, something that made her unlovable.
“Lance is flying in this afternoon to officially propose,” Mitch told her. “You have to pretend that everything is fine, and nothing has changed.”
How could she act as though everything was fine when she was falling apart? And how could she have been so stupid? Why didn’t she see that it was just sex to him? Maybe it was some sort of warped sibling rivalry. Maybe Mitch seduced all of his brother’s girlfriends.
Humiliation burned her from the inside out, but she would die before she let Mitch know.
She lifted her nose at him and pasted on a look of boredom. “I don’t have to pretend everything is fine, Mitch. As far as I’m concerned, things are great. You definitely served your purpose.”
He frowned. “What purpose was that?”
She racked her brain, grasping for the worst, most awful thing she could possibly say to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. “A cheap thrill, to cheat my arranged husband out of my virginity. And who better to do it with than his brother. Although I’m sorry to say, I expected better. Your performance wasn’t exactly earth-shattering.”
Mitch’s expression went from one of confusion to ice-cold hatred. She waited for him to shout and berate her, the way her father often did when he was displeased with her. But all he said was, “I should have expected as much from a spoiled and pampered heiress.”
No words could have stung more or cut deeper.
He grabbed his wallet from the bedside table. “Meet me downstairs in the lounge at noon,” he said, then turned and left without another word.
She sat there for several minutes, feeling sick with grief, but then she began to feel something else. She began to feel angry. How dare he play with her emotions that way. How dare he make love to her and take from her the most precious gift she had to offer—her innocence—then ruthlessly reject her.
Well, she would show him. She would marry his brother and she would make Lance love her. She would be the best wife, the best mother—everything Lance could ever want in a mate.
Mitch would see how happy they were, see how perfect she could be, and he would regret letting her go for the rest of his life.
September
Mitchell Brody had never been one to compromise, but when it came to Brody Oil and Gas, he would do just about anything to ensure its continued growth and success. Even if that meant marrying a spoiled, heartless, manipulative heiress who had a block of ice where her heart belonged.
Bruce Cavanaugh glared at Mitch from behind his massive desk—the desk he boasted once belonged to JFK—in his Houston office, where he sat like a king addressing a lowly peasant. Everything in the room, from the rich furnishings
