Escorting the Groom (The Escort Collection Book 4) (7 page)

"Uh… okay." Had I been bored this afternoon? I now had to plan a wedding and prepare for a tropical honeymoon in the course of one week. I had so many items on my to-do list, I was starting to lose track. "And why can't we elope, again?"

"The same reason we have to go on a honeymoon. The same reason we have to meet my family for dinner tonight. This has to seem completely real. Otherwise, Serena will be sprinting off to the trust administrator to contest my inheritance so fast, you'd think she was trying to qualify for the Olympics."

"Okay." I sighed. "I understand."

Lucas's green eyes searched my face. "Do you? We have to go soon. Are you really ready for this?"

I nodded bravely, feeling as though we were indeed about to meet the local firing squad. "Of course. I'm a professional, remember?"

"I remember." He came closer, close enough to touch, and electricity crackled between us out of nowhere. My breathing sped up as I inhaled his scent, something masculine and spicy that wasn't cologne. "And that's good, because I'm going to have to touch you tonight. Hold your hand and kiss you. Do you think you can handle that?"

I swallowed hard.
Oh yeah. I could handle that, all right.
"Yes, sir," I said demurely.

He cocked an eyebrow at me. "So we've gone from 'boss' to 'sir,' huh?"

I started laughing, and the tension broke between us. "I have to call you something."

"Try honey. Or baby. My sister's a stickler for details." He stepped back from me and headed for his room. "I'm going to change. Start thinking of pet names."

"Right away—
baby
," I said.

He wasn't facing me, so I couldn't be sure, but I thought he might have been laughing.

I
t was
a good thing I'd jerked off properly because Blake looked amazing in that dress.

I pushed the thought roughly from my mind, choosing instead to concentrate on the neat row of suits hanging in my walk-in closet. I selected a light gray one, perfect for a hot summer evening. I also had a feeling that things were about to heat up with my family. Keeping my cool was very important.

I clasped her hand as we strode through the lobby. People stopped to stare at Blake, and I tightened my grip on her.
Keeping my cool, indeed.

"We're going to
La Ciel
for dinner," I told Blake as Ian navigated the SUV through light traffic. "Have you been there?"

"No, but I'm guessing I'm in for a treat," she said. "It's always voted one of Boston's top restaurants."

I leaned back against the seat and watched the buildings go by. "It's nice. It won't compare to our dinner last night, but it's still serviceable."

"Nothing can compare to our dinner last night," Blake said dreamily. "I keep thinking about that appetizer."

"Me too. I love that thingy." I grinned and she grinned back at me. I felt an urge to reach out and touch her, to run my hands down her bare arm. I probably should—we would be at the restaurant in less than ten minutes, on display for my family to scrutinize and dissect. I tentatively put my hand on hers, surprised and annoyed at the shock that went through my body when I touched her bare skin.

Blake looked down at my hand. "Practicing?"

I retreated to my side of the car. "Sorry."

"Don't be silly." She took my hand and brought it back over, placing it directly on her thigh. I squeezed her leg. It felt smooth and muscular under my touch. Then of course my cock stirred again.
The traitor.

"I take it you're not normally demonstrative with your dates," Blake said.

"I'm physically demonstrative with the women I take home," I offered.

"Ha. But we need to be serious. Would it be okay if I took the lead with our physical contact? I'm comfortable touching you, holding your hand, rubbing your back, kissing you."

"I think that would absolutely be okay." This was getting better and better… except for the fact that I was going to end up with the bluest of blue balls by the end of the evening.

She smiled, pleased with herself. "Good. I think it seems in character, and your family would expect that."

"I appreciate that," I said, "and I think it sounds like a good plan. You take the lead with the affection. I'll take the lead explaining how we met… how did we meet, again?"

Blake trailed her finger down my arm and put her hand on top of mine. I had a feeling she was enjoying herself. I wasn't sure if she was teasing me, making me ache for what I told her I had no interest in. If she was, it was working.

Good thing I was stoic. And stubborn as hell.

"We met at a cocktail party for one of your new technology launches, remember?" she asked. "I worked at a design firm that helped with your branding. We started talking and haven't been apart since that night."

I squeezed her thigh again, deciding to just go with it. "How long ago was that?"

"Six months," Blake said smoothly. "And now we've decided to make it official."

"I know my sister will be researching you online as soon as we've paid the check tonight. What's she going to find?" Elena had assured me she'd taken care of every detail with respect to Blake's identity, but as we got closer to the restaurant, my nerves began to hack into my overall system.

"Elena put up a fake website for the design firm with my profile on it—it has my picture and everything, including my fake degree." Blake whipped out her phone and pulled up the site. "See? The company is fictitious, but it looks completely legit. It says I'm currently on a leave of absence to plan my wedding. And there's no other trace of me online. AccommoDating has a members-only, secure website. All of my information's been taken down, and she had our tech guy make sure you couldn't find residual links online anywhere."

"Well… good." I scrubbed my free hand across my face, imagining other areas of vulnerability where my sister might strike. "What's the story with your family?"

Blake didn't miss a beat. "My mom died of cancer. My parents divorced when I was very small, and I never knew my father. And I'm an only child, so that's it. Just me, and no aunts or uncles to speak of, either."

"No mother-in-law, hmmm? You really might be the perfect woman," I teased. She just smiled and went back to stroking my arm.

I went back to talking my erection down.

La Ciel
was elegant and crowded, but my surroundings barely registered with me as I gripped Blake's hand and headed for the table where my family was already assembled and waiting. It figured. They probably had a pregame strategy session. "Are you ready?" I asked Blake lowly.

She smiled and nodded. "No," she said, under her breath. "But I'm already pretending."

"I like it." We reached the table, and my sister's eyes almost popped out of her head at the site of the tall, beautiful woman at my side. "Good evening. Serena, Father, Elizabeth." I nodded at them all politely. "This is my fiancée, Blake Maxwell. Blake, this is my family." I pulled out the chair for her, and she descended onto it slowly, like a queen.

They positively gawked at her.

I took the opportunity to inspect them. My father looked fit and tan, as though he'd just played eighteen holes, which he probably had. Elizabeth, my stepmother, looked as though she'd had some work done recently. Her skin was pulled more tautly than usual, and her eyes slanted upward almost painfully. She was still attractive, but now her face had an unnatural, feline-like appearance underneath her auburn waves. Serena glared at me from beneath her dark tumble of curls. Her perfectly painted red lips contrasted with the light tan she'd acquired during some fundraising weekend on Nantucket.

She hadn't told me she'd gone, because I hadn't asked her. I'd seen the picture in the society pages and flipped past them quickly, tired of her endless photo opportunities, her unyielding desire to the center of attention.

"I'm Franklin Ford. It's lovely to meet you," my father said, a bit too enthusiastically. He shoved his hand at Blake across the table and shook hers animatedly. "I’m so thrilled that you and my son are getting married! Wow. Just look at you." He proceeded to do just that, his eyes sparkling as they roamed her body.

Then he leaned underneath the table to check out her legs.

I cleared my throat and shot a knowing look at Elizabeth, who was turning a dull, scary shade of red. "That's enough, Dad. I appreciate you being friendly and all—but you don't need to be
quite
so enthusiastic."

My father popped back up and gave me a sour look. "Jesus, Lucas. You haven’t even been here for a minute. Say hello to the family and have some wine before you start complaining." He turned to Blake. "I apologize for my son. He can be a little crass."

"I hadn't noticed." She smiled at my father.

"I'm sorry." I interrupted what was clearly my father’s preamble before he started telling Blake all about my flaws. "I know you're just excited for me, Dad." I turned to the ladies. "We're all just excited. Right, Elizabeth? Serena?"

"Absolutely," said Elizabeth, her eyes raking over every visible inch of Blake. "It's nice to see that you're finally going to settle down after all this time." Her smug tone was unmistakable:
after all this time without me,
it insinuated.

I clenched my hands into fists under the table. Blake must have felt me tense because she started to rub my back soothingly. "It's really nice to finally meet you all," she said, her tone friendly and naïve. "Lucas has spoken of his family so highly."

Serena raised a meticulously waxed eyebrow at Blake. "
Really?
You're going to pull an 'aw-shucks' routine on us? With a body like that?"

"Huh?" Blake blinked at my sister, her eyes widening. "I'm being polite. Because we're just meeting, and because this is a happy occasion."

"Don't bother with the manners." Serena rolled her eyes. She was wearing a tight black dress that showed off her surgically enhanced breasts. An enormous gold Rolex watch glinted against her wrist.

"Oh, Serena, what's the matter?" I asked. "Feeling outfoxed?"

"Hardly." She scowled at me. "It's more that I'm suspicious. I haven't seen you all year. None of us have. And then, three weeks before I'm set to inherit the trust, you spring
this
on us?" She pointed at Blake, as if my fiancée was something ugly and dangerous that had slunk out of a sewer pipe to join us for dinner.

I leaned across the table toward my sister. "Are you sad that you're only going to be inheriting half of the family fortune now?” I whispered, conspiratorially. “Or just that Blake's naturally gorgeous
and
much nicer than you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. There's no such thing as a real blonde." Serena sniffed, eyeing Blake's roots. "And as for the money—you're only getting it after you've been married for a year—and
if
this is actually real, not some sort of sad attempt at fraud." She turned back to Blake. "So, speaking of fraud, how exactly did you meet my brother?" I winced at how shrill she sounded. Mother would have hated to see her like this.

I looked around the table, from my father to my hired bride-to-be. Mother would probably have hated to see all of us like this.

Blake smiled bravely at Serena. "I worked at a design firm that helped Lucas with his branding. We met at a launch party. I'd like to say it was love at first sight, but that… just sounds so cheesy." She sounded demure, but as she continued rubbing my back, her hand started to go lower, skimming my belt.

I shifted in my seat.
What is she playing at?

I gave her a quizzical look, but she ignored me, continuing to trace her fingers along my lower back. "I don't think it sounds cheesy," I said. "In fact, that's exactly how I felt." I gestured to my father, who was staring at Blake as if she were an ice-cold drink in the middle of the Sahara Desert that he wanted to guzzle. "I'm just lucky she felt the same way about me."

"I'll say," my father exclaimed. Then he cursed as Elizabeth sharply elbowed him.

"We started dating, and Blake moved in with me shortly after that," I explained. "Since I'm not getting any younger, and we decided we'd like to start a family—"

"Oh, will you stop with your bullshit?" Serena looked as if she might lunge across the table at me. "You do
not
want a family. You can't even stand to be in the same room with children! This is all for show. There was no insta-love, and this woman is
not
really your girlfriend."

Blake stubbornly held up her left hand and pointed at her ring. She looked as if she were about to burst into tears. "His fiancée," she reminded Serena, her voice swollen with hurt. Her lip quivered.

My father leaned across Elizabeth in order to better glare at my sister. "Stop making our guest upset," he commanded. "It's nice to see your brother finally happy. Maybe you could start working on that."

"Maybe you should mind your own business," Serena snapped.

"You need to back off," Elizabeth said, coming in between them, her tone nasty.

"Don't start that step-monster routine with
me
," Serena threatened.

Blake shot me a surreptitious look, as if to ask,
are they always this bad?

I nodded at her, drained my glass, and motioned for the waiter. "Keep it coming," I said, pointing to the empty bottle of wine. Then I froze.

Blake's hand was trailing to the waistband of my pants again, skimming the top of my ass. "Can I have some more, babe?" she cooed when the waiter brought the bottle back. Her sexy voice made my cock jump to attention. I grabbed the wine out of the waiter's hands and poured it for her myself.

"Thanks." She gave me a fuck-me look then leaned over and kissed me, with tongue, causing the muscles all over my body to shiver in response.

My cock jolted again and as we parted, I noticed that all three of our dining companions had stopped arguing and were staring at us, open-mouthed.

"You're blushing," Serena said to me, sounding disgusted.

I jerked my thumb in Blake's direction. "It's her fault. She does that to me."

My father looked positively ribald as he bit into his salad. "You don't say, son," he mumbled through his Bibb lettuce.

Seemingly satisfied with my physical reaction, Blake refocused her attention on Serena. "Now, back to what you were saying about us not being in love—why would you say that? I don't understand."

Serena's head looked as if it were about to pop off. "Since you refuse to stop pretending—even though you're both seriously terrible at it—I'll break it down for you. I'm sure you know that Lucas is on the verge of inheriting lots of money—"

Blake pulled her shoulders back, bristling. "That might be true, but he makes lots of money, anyway. Because he works very, very hard."

"Thank you, baby." I threw my arm around her and pulled her against me. Now that she'd practically grabbed my ass and stuck her tongue in my mouth, the physical lines I'd drawn around us seemed penetrable.

Penetrable. Huh.
I was really going to need to work on my inner word choice.

"It's so nice to finally have someone in my corner." I squeezed her against me as I looked pointedly at the faces across the table from us.

Serena drained her wine glass, looking simultaneously frustrated and disgusted. She ignored me and spoke directly to Blake. "He only gets the money if he's married by the time he's thirty-five and
if
it lasts for a year. But it has to be
real
. He can't just be doing it for the money. You, either."

Blake ran her fingertips over the rim of her wine glass. "No offense, but how would you verify that? That someone's marriage is
real
?"

Serena arched an eyebrow, one of her signature, snotty moves. "I have my ways."

"Maybe I should go back and question Robert," I said, referring to her ex-husband. "And ask him how real
your
relationship was."