One Night Stand Bride

And sure enough—with each breathy catch of her lungs—their bodies brushed and the contact sang through her.

“You can’t snow the master of winter,” he advised her so softly that she had to lean in a little closer to hear. Or at least that was her excuse and she’d cling to it as long as she could. “So lie to your friends, your dad. Anyone other than me. We’re in this together and I need you.”

Her knees went a little mushy. Mushy. The one person she had zero intention of letting under her skin had just demonstrated a remarkable ability to blaze right past every barrier she’d ever constructed. And it didn’t even seem to matter that he hadn’t meant those words the way they’d sounded, like he cared about her and had her back.

No. He wanted her to stick to the deal and stop being such a big baby about the fact that her father expected favors from this union. Weren’t favors the whole purpose of this marriage? For God knew what reason, the fact that Hendrix had figured out all the subtle nuances of her mood hooked something inside her.

That pissed her off. He wasn’t supposed to be good at handling her. He wasn’t supposed to be anything but a means to an end.

“Yes,” she purred and let her hips roll forward just a touch until she hit the thick, hard length she’d been seeking. “I can feel how much you need me.”

“Careful.” His lips feathered against her ear, sending shafts of need deep inside her. “Or I might think you’re trying to entice me into breaking my promise. The Roz I know wouldn’t play so dirty. So I’m going to assume it’s a distraction from what’s really going on with you and roll with it.”

Before she could blink, his arm snaked around her waist, shoving her firmly into the cradle of his body, exactly where she wanted to be.

What did it say that he knew that about her too without being told?

“Put some of that sass where it belongs,” he said into her ear as their embrace got a whole lot more intimate. He pressed her back against the counter, one leg teasing her thighs like he might push

between them but he’d give her a minute to think about it. “Don’t let a stray comment cramp your style. Be the life of the party because no one else’s opinion matters.”

Her eyes burned all at once. Oh, God, he was going to make her cry. What was wrong with her that a couple of compassionate phrases from a player like Hendrix could yank loose tears?

Except he wasn’t just a creep looking to score. They were engaged, as unbelievable as that was to reconcile, and he needed her to pull it together.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I’m letting crap that doesn’t matter get me down.”

What was she doing skulking around in the kitchen when there was a party going on? More importantly, he’d given her the perfect excuse to step out of his arms as everything settled inside.

She didn’t move.

“Of course I am,” he told her and she could hear the smile in his voice even as she absorbed his heat through her little black dress. “Roz, this is practice for the wider swath of society that we have to wade through an exhausting number of times over the next few weeks. They’re not going to be any more forgiving. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere and I’ll be holding your hand the whole time.”

“PB&J for the win,” she murmured and dang it, her arms fit so well around his waist that she couldn’t do anything but leave them there. “Although I have to ask why we couldn’t have had this conversation without you wrapping yourself around me like an octopus.”

“Oh, we could have.” He nuzzled her ear. “This was strictly for me. You’re driving me insane in that dress and all I can think about is that I don’t get to take it off at the end of the night. I deserve something for my suffering.”

That shouldn’t have made her laugh. Especially since the whole of his body pressed into hers felt more like the opening act than the finale.

“Also,” he continued, “I didn’t think you were in the mood for an audience. If anyone came through that door right now, they’d exit pretty quickly for fear of intruding on a moment between lovers.”

Did the man ever miss an angle? She did not want to appreciate any of his qualities, let alone the nonsexual variety.

Neither should she be recalling with perfect clarity what he’d said to her on his front porch. He’d never been shy about using his mouth in whatever inventive way came to mind, and he had a really great imagination, especially when it came to talking dirty.

That was enough to jump-start her brain. This wasn’t the start of a seduction, never mind how easily it could be. It was a Come to Jesus at the hands of her partner and she was the one who’d taken sex off the table. For a reason. The man made her forget her own name and she needed to keep her wits about her, or she’d never survive this. She had to get Clown-Around off the ground and Hendrix was nothing to her except a ticket to achieving her goals.

“The moment is over,” she informed him through sheer force of will.

“I disagree.” But he stepped back immediately, taking all his delicious heat with him.

Even in that, he’d read her expertly, extracting himself as soon as he sensed her consent had changed. His gaze burned hot and she had no doubt he’d sweep her back into his arms if she gave the word.

And that put the steel in her spine that had been missing. She had equal power in this partnership. He wasn’t going to slip through her fingers when she wasn’t looking because they weren’t a couple basing their relationship on fleeting feelings. They both had goals, none of which would be accomplished when one of them moped around poking at old bruises.

Hendrix was a smart choice. Obviously. He got her in ways no one ever had and she refused to examine how much she liked that.

“We’re a power couple.” She held out her hand to him. “Let’s go act like one.”