Wicked Heat. Kelli Ireland

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      The event coordinator had watched the verbal volley with interest. “So you’re arranging your wedding while here, yes?”

      “We’re not getting married,” they both said at the same time.

      “I’m sorry. I don’t understand,” he said, small beads of sweat dotting his hairline as he glanced from his clipboard to Ella and finally to Liam.

      “I’m not the bride,” Ella said through gritted teeth. “I’m the wedding planner for Mr. Baggett’s half sister and her fiancé.”

      Arvin’s hands shook as he flipped through the paperwork on his clipboard, crossing out certain things and adding notes to others. “I see.” He looked up, pupils dark in wide eyes. “As I said before, my name is Arvin, and I am—”

      “The resort’s event coordinator.” Ella shook Arvin’s hand by rote. “It’s nice to meet you, Arvin. I need to make sure that you understand that I am absolutely not the bride.”

      “I’m clear, Ms. Montgomery, and I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding. My staff took to heart your admonition that all must be perfect. We have two team members plus myself at your disposal around the clock.” He glanced at the last page and paled radically. “Oh, sweet and merciful...”

      “Arvin?”

      “As a show of our appreciation for choosing the Royal Crescent, your room was upgraded to the honeymoon suite bungalow.”

      “I appreciate the gesture, but it certainly wasn’t necessary.” Ella felt her brow furrow and let it do as it would, wrinkles be damned. “But the change doesn’t seem like something that would warrant panic.”

      “Normally, it wouldn’t.” Arvin dragged his arm across his forehead to wipe away sweat that only popped right back up. “But there was, as I also previously indicated, the belief that you were the bride.” He began to fan himself with the clipboard. “And that...that... Mr. Baggett was your...”

      “Groom,” Ella whispered, throat so tight the word emerged as a strangled wheeze.

      Behind her, Liam made a choking sound.

      Ella didn’t bother turning around. Surely he couldn’t be any more dumbfounded than she was. “I can’t, Arvin.” And she couldn’t. Proximity to that man would destroy every good intention she had. If she didn’t succumb to his flirtation, he’d likely succumb to hers. What happened after that was precisely what the honeymoon suite had been created for.

      This was bad.

      The event coordinator touched his earpiece and gave a fractional nod. “Your bags have been tagged and will be delivered within the half hour.”

      “I can’t do this,” she whispered. “Rooming with Mr. Baggett is not an option.”

      “I... I...” Arvin stood very straight.

      Ella closed her eyes. This couldn’t be a portent of what lay ahead. It just...it couldn’t be. “If you’ll simply assign us separate rooms, I’ll retrieve my luggage and get to work on the wedding.”

      Arvin tugged at his shirt collar, his face flushing a horrid fuchsia. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Montgomery, but the resort is booked solid. When we upgraded you and Mr. Baggett to the suite, the rooms that you each originally booked were assigned to guests on our waiting list.”

      Ella took a second glass of champagne and threw it back, eyes watering with the bubbles’ bite. “Waiting list? How can there be a waiting list when this is supposed to be the beginning of the off-season?”

      Arvin shrugged. “It’s our annual carnival.”

      “That wasn’t advertised on the resort’s website.” Panic clawed its way up the back of her throat and threatened to choke off her air supply.

      “I am sorry, Ms. Montgomery. Our website has been undergoing a complete redesign, and—”

      “Surely there’s a neighboring resort. I could get a room there and commute back and forth to the Royal Crescent. A rental house. A house with a room for rent. A yurt. Something,” she muttered, looking around the crowded lobby. “Anything.”

      The Brit behind her leaned in close, and the crisp smell of champagne that lay over a hint of tart strawberry wrapped around her as he spoke quietly into her ear. “This is the equivalent of the French Polynesian Mardi Gras, Ms. Montgomery. There won’t be rooms available anywhere on the island for a solid ten days. I’d have thought you, as a professional wedding planner, would have known as much.”

      He was right. She should have known. But even her embarrassment wasn’t enough to stop his whispered breath from skating along her jaw and caressing the shape of her ear. Shivers threatened to shatter her composure. Things low in her belly tightened, and she stepped closer to the other man. “I can’t stay with him,” she said, the words tumbling over one another. “I can’t.”

      “As I said, miss, the resort is booked to capacity. I’m certain we can find a...rollaway bed...perhaps?” There was a sense of undisguised pleading in his entire persona, from his nearly vibrating frame to the pitch of every word. “I cannot afford this type of mistake on my employment record, Ms. Montgomery. At the very least, I could be demoted. At worst?” He shook his head as he swallowed, the gulp loud enough to be heard over the hum of the crowded lobby. “And my wife—it would reflect poorly on her as well. Please, allow me to do whatever I may to make this right.”

      Ella took a deep breath, held it for a count of ten and then let it out slowly. Squaring her shoulders, she faced Liam and offered a small approximation of a smile. “Surely we’re adult enough to make this work? I’ll take the rollaway; you take the bed. We’re going to be working together so much, this might even work to our benefit.”

      Liam’s eyes narrowed farther. “What do you hope to gain?”

      “Nothing.” She looked back at Arvin. “It’s what I don’t want him to lose.”

      Liam was quiet long enough Ella was certain she’d have to plead with him to go along with it. Then he spoke, his voice rich with implied debauchery. “Surely, as two grown adults in command of their faculties and capable of informed decision making, we can share a room for a few days.”

      Ella swallowed hard and nodded. “It’s just for a few days.”

       CHAPTER THREE

      DESPITE HIS IRRITATION with the situation, Liam had to admit he admired the woman in front of him. She obviously didn’t want to room with him, and, while that stung his damnable pride as much as it piqued his equally damnable interest, he found a solid sense of respect blooming alongside his lust. No matter who’d made the mistake, she wouldn’t let this hotel employee suffer for the error.

      The singular good thing that came from this debacle? Proximity to Ella would make manipulating the situation much, much easier. A few well-placed comments, a nudge here, a suggestion there and voilà. The unrealistically short engagement following an even shorter committed relationship would not result in the worst possible outcome: a wedding. No, the event would be canceled, and СКАЧАТЬ