Patricia Kay - The One-Week Wife

Damn!

Why couldn’t he get the woman out of his mind?

Maybe his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Maybe, instead of trying to forget about Felicity, he should be figuring out how to get her into his bed. Because, obviously, he wasn’t going to be able to move on with his life until he did.

When Felicity arrived at her office Thursday morning, she wasn’t surprised to see Bo Harrison already there, ready and waiting. Bo, with his dyed platinum hair, diamond earrings and all-black “uniform,” looked like the creative artist he was. His photographs were works of art, and he was in high demand despite his outrageous prices.

“Good morning,” he said, smiling.

“Good morning, Bo.”

“Ready to roll?”

“As soon as I get my coffee I will be.” She’d barely uttered the words before Rita emerged from their little kitchen and handed Felicity an insulated cup. Felicity grinned. “You’re an angel, Rita.”

Today her assistant wore a bright yellow dress and matching yellow heels with peekaboo toes. She, too, was a shoe junkie, although unlike Felicity, Rita bought her shoes on sale at discount stores instead of designer shops.

“You look nice today,” Felicity said.

“So do you,” Rita countered, eyeing Felicity’s frothy multicolored sundress, a far cry from her normal work attire of either black or taupe—colors that would never take attention away from her brides or their attendants.

“Thanks,” Felicity said. “I have a Debs Club luncheon later.”

“I saw it on your calendar,” Rita said. “What time will you be back here?”

“Probably not until three. Why? Is there something urgent that I’ve forgotten?”

“No.” Rita smiled. “I just like to keep track.”

“If anything changes, I’ll call you. Or if something does come up, you call me on my cell.”

“Okay. Have fun today, you two.”

Five minutes later, Bo and Felicity were on their way. Felicity had declined Bo’s offer of a ride, since she would go straight to the club from Rosedale.

As they neared the entrance to the horse farm, her heart beat a little faster. Even though she’d spoken to Reed on the phone after that kiss—and both had pretended it hadn’t happened—it would be different seeing him in person. Meeting his gaze, remembering how his body had responded to hers, and hers to his. But no matter how awkward the situation, Felicity was determined to be her normal cool, efficient self today.

Because the last thing she wanted was for Reed to think that kiss had been important to her or that she attached any significance to it. Better for him to think her behavior yesterday had been a temporary aberration, a momentary lapse of good judgment.

Reed stood outside the office building as Felicity and Bo drove in. They both parked, then walked over to greet him.

“Good morning,” Felicity said crisply.

“Good morning,” he answered.

Damn, he looked good. Once again he wore close-fitting breeches, but today they were topped with an open-necked blue shirt the same vibrant shade as his eyes.

Felicity’s heart clutched when those eyes met hers. It took every ounce of her willpower and self-control not to look away. Instead, she said in a voice admirably even, “Reed, this is my photographer, Bo Harrison. Bo, Reed Kelly, the owner of Rosedale.”

“Bo,” Reed said, extending his right hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kelly. I appreciate the opportunity to work here.”

Reed smiled. “Where did you want to start?”

“Maybe you could just give us a tour of the place,” Felicity suggested. “Give Bo an idea of what’s here?”

Reed gave her a dubious look. “Are you planning to walk around in those shoes?”

“And risk my Blahniks? Are you crazy?” Felicity grinned. She’d shopped far and wide for the perfect complement to her shimmery sundress in shades of turquoise, violet and gold. “I brought some others.”

She reached into her tote and extracted a pair of New Balance cross trainers, exchanging them for her strappy gold sandals.

Soon they were off, Reed leading the way and explaining what each area’s function was. Felicity was glad they’d decided on a morning tour, for already the sun was getting uncomfortably warm. As they walked, she couldn’t help being impressed with the scope of Rosedale. It was truly beautiful, and far more comprehensive than Felicity had imagined from Emma’s sketchy description the one time they’d discussed what Reed did for a living.

Come to think of it, Emma hadn’t talked about Reed much at all during their engagement, other than to say they’d been there or done that. The omission should have been Felicity’s first clue that all was not well between them.

Had Reed sensed Emma’s misgivings? Because surely she’d had them for a while, even if she hadn’t been able to articulate them or share them with Felicity. Wondering how long it would take him to get over Emma, Felicity shot Reed a furtive look.

And caught him looking at her with the oddest expression on his face.

Startled when their eyes met, she could feel her face coloring and quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in the quarantine and layup facility he had just pointed out.

What had he been thinking just now?

She swallowed. Damn, she wished she had been capable of restraining her baser instincts yesterday.

For the remainder of their tour she studiously avoided looking at Reed. He unnerved her, and she didn’t like the feeling, even as she liked him far more than was good for her.

Telling herself any future interaction with Reed that didn’t involve business would complicate her life in ways she absolutely did not need, Felicity thanked him when the tour was over, said goodbye to both him and Bo, and drove away from Rosedale without looking back.

Reed stood outside and watched the departure of Bo and Felicity. An idea had struck him this morning, one that, on the surface, seemed outrageous.

And yet…was it that outrageous?

He didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that Felicity was as attracted to him as he was to her. Just the way her gaze darted away every time it met his—well, maybe not every time—would have told him she felt the same things he did.

So what if she had no interest in marriage and he did? All he wanted right now was something new. A brief liaison, one that would satisfy both of them and be a hell of a lot of fun in the process.

Sex with no strings.

He grinned.

Sex with no strings. They’d both get something they wanted and wouldn’t have to worry about any messy entanglements or hurt feelings afterward.

And if he presented his proposition to her on that basis, she might just say yes.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.