Seven Day Fiance: A Love and Games Novel (Entangled Bliss) (14 page)

His
.

Anticipation had him antsy, eager to drag her away before she changed her mind. But he wouldn’t rush this. He’d give Brady this moment. After all, it had to be hell losing a woman like Angelle. And Cane was man enough to share her attention for a few minutes. Especially since she wasn’t really even his.

So it didn’t matter that they looked good together, spinning and laughing as their hands formed little windows to stare into each other’s eyes. The way their feet pistoned up and down in sync, hinting at a shared history, didn’t rankle. And when the other couples widened the circle, clapping for the reunion of Cane’s woman and her ex, it didn’t even faze him.

It certainly didn’t have him wanting to punch a hole through the post behind his head.

Envy, jealousy, and possession were foreign emotions to him. They were for henpecked men in relationships. They didn’t suit him, and Cane didn’t like them one bit. Women generally came easy for Cane, but Angelle had made him work. That was all this was. Soon, those unwanted feelings would be a thing of the past.

The all-consuming intensity with which he wanted Angelle would be gone, too. This unmatched craving was merely the result of long months imagining what it would be like with his favorite redhead. But after he spent a night holding her in his arms, and once he heard her scream his name, and saw that beautiful, sated look cross her angelic face, the need to have her, to own her, would fade.

It had to.

Things would go back to normal. In three days, they’d drive home to Magnolia Springs as friends. Friends who happened to have shared a crazy week and a hell of a night between the sheets. Guilt pricked his conscience, but he ignored it. Angelle knew the score. She may have a crush, but there was no way a woman like her could want
forever
with a man like him anyway. When this was over, she’d return to her normal life as a firefighter, only now with her family off her back, and the hottest damn memory she could imagine. Who knows, maybe their hoax would even push her to start dating again.

Cane didn’t want to analyze why that thought made him see red, so instead he focused on the life
he
would go back to. Days filled with easy women, no commitments, no attachments, and no emotion.

He
really
didn’t want to analyze why that life suddenly felt so empty.

Chapter Thirteen

The barn had always been Angelle’s sanctuary. A quiet place to go and think, to get away from the world, especially after Amber died. Back when her family raised horses, her best friend had lived in one of the stalls. She’d feed Diamond carrots and confess her darkest secrets, and he’d agree with his dark, soulful eyes that the world did indeed suck sometimes. Later in high school and into college, when her parents grew older and it became more of a storage shed, the barn had still been her safe place. Many nights Angie would sneak away to sleep up in the loft, surrounded by memories and the sweet smell of hay and aged wood.

It was during those nights that she planned her first time.

The entire thing, laid out.

The lighting (scented candles, naturally), the bedding (the soft comforter from her bed), and the soundtrack. Oh yes, a soundtrack was needed. It was the most crucial aspect. She’d seen enough romance movies to know the right song set the mood. It became a strange hobby of sorts through the years, fiddling with different songs, selecting only the best ones. A little “U Got It Bad” by Usher, “How Do I Live” by LeAnn Rimes, even “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boys II Men, and “Let’s Get It On” by Barry White.

All slow and seductive…and completely wrong now.

None of those songs fit Cane or the slightly manic feelings he triggered inside her. He was more like “Wild Thing” by Tone-Loc, making her a whole lot of “Firework” by Katy Perry. Right now, Angie felt as if her colors—along with everything else—
were
about to burst. Like a live wire was sitting just under her skin, buzzing and humming. Electric. But a plan was a plan, and a girl didn’t wait twenty-six
freaking
years for something to happen only to get sidetracked at the very last second. Tonight would be absolutely perfect. Just like her fantasy.

“Um, I have a few things I want to do first,” she said as Cane flicked off the engine. They’d ridden home from the festival in tense silence, but unlike on the drive from Magnolia Springs, this had been the
good
kind of tension. The kind that made Angelle’s tummy tight with anticipation, anxiety, and excitement. “Do you mind waiting out here?”

With only the faint glow from the streetlight, Cane’s face was in shadows. She couldn’t see his expression, but his voice, low and raspy, had her wanting to strip naked right there. “Darlin’, I’ve waited five months for this night. I think I can handle a few more minutes.”

A strangled sound, half-breath and half-whimper, passed from her lips. This man was dangerous. She’d always known that. But for once, Angie was feeling a little reckless herself.

“I-I’ll be right back,” she said, tossing her seat belt aside and throwing open the passenger door. She didn’t need to see Cane’s face to know he was grinning.

The moment her feet touched the ground, she was running. She only slowed inside so she didn’t terrify her parents. Luckily, their hearing wasn’t quite what it used to be, and by speed walking on tiptoe, she was able to dash down the hall and into her room without sounding an alarm. Leaning her head against the closed bedroom door, Angelle released a shaky breath and declared, “Holy crap, I’m about to have sex.”

She blinked once, twice, three times. Then, with a wide smile stretched across her face, she pushed off the door.

Grabbing a huge duffel bag from inside her closet, she ran around tossing items inside. “Flashlight, sex CD, fuzzy socks in case it gets cold…” Folding her rather large comforter proved to be a bit of a challenge, but it was part of the fantasy. Plus, she really didn’t want to lie on dirt or splintered wood. Splinters in the butt did
not
say sexy to her.

Under the sink in her bathroom was a treasure trove of scented candles. Grabbing the four nearest, she shoved them inside along with a lighter, then scurried back to her room. All she was missing was protection and wardrobe. Thanks to her embarrassing,
fabulous
roommate, she had both. Sliding open the drawer, Angelle dug out the string of silver packets from where she’d buried them days ago, so sure she’d never have a use for them. A laugh bubbled in her throat as she added them to her bag, then she turned back and stared at her costume options.

Green lace, black leather, purple silk. Without a doubt, the black leather screamed Cane Robicheaux. The problem was it
didn’t
scream Angelle. She’d feel like an imposter. One that could likely end up chafed in an uncomfortable spot.
Nix the leather.

It was a tough call between the remaining two. While she loved purple, and the feel of silk was divine, Sherry had said green was Angelle’s color. It matched her eyes, set off her hair, and the lace felt naughty against her fingertips. That could work.

Stripping out of her jeans and blouse, Angie contorted, wiggled, and adjusted herself into the lingerie. Prior to this, the sexiest thing she’d ever worn was a Victoria’s Secret nightgown. Lacey had bought her the nightie when she graduated—and it’d had considerably more fabric.

Daring a glance into the mirror, her eyes widened. She may as well be naked! Granted, that was the designer’s point, but staring at her reflection it suddenly became very real what she was about to do. And who she was about to stand in front of in this uber-revealing getup.

Shaking her hands, Angelle blew out a breath. She cracked her neck and nodded at the mirror. “I can do this,” she told herself. “I’m fearless.” She turned to the side, glimpsed her exposed backside, and winced. “I’m one sexy, redheaded bitch.”

Angie rolled her eyes at how
un
sexy she sounded. The girls Cane usually slept with probably didn’t require pep talks in the mirror before getting it on. Picking up her hairbrush, she fluffed and teased her hair. A dab of cherry lip gloss, a pinch of the cheeks, one squirt of perfume, and a silk robe later, she was ready. Or as ready as she would ever be.

Footsteps bouncy with anxiety and anticipation, she made it back down the hall as quietly as when she’d entered. She carefully pried opened the front door. Cane was just where she’d left him, sitting in his truck, the engine off. His head was leaned back against the seat, and she briefly wondered if he’d fallen asleep. That would be a definite mood killer. But at the
click
of the front door closing, he bolted straight up.

It was cold. Angelle was wearing a skimpy, silk robe and lace underneath. But she was sweating. She wished that in her rush to begin the sexy times that she would’ve remembered the porch light. Shadows still filled the cab and clung to his face, hiding any hint of his expression.

Was his gaze appreciative, or disappointed?

Had she taken too long to get ready? Had she totally misread the situation?

Could he have possibly changed his mind?

Cane was a man—an extremely sexual man—so Angie doubted it. But then, this was happening to
her
, and Murphy’s Law defined her life, so anything was possible. Thankfully, before she could drive herself completely insane with questions, Cane’s door opened. Soon his long-legged stride carried him over the drive to where she stood, practically shaking, on the top step of the porch. His gaze traveled over every inch of her frame, from the top of her head, to her red-painted toenails, and then back up.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Nerves had her smirking, brushing the compliment aside. But Cane shook his head and brought his finger to the side of her face. Slowly, he glided it over the swell of her cheek and down the sensitive skin of her throat. “Most. Beautiful.”

Angelle forgot all about the chill in the air, thanks to the heat in his eyes. He wanted this to happen as badly as she did. He wanted
her.

“I’m not a saint,” he told her, cupping his hand around her neck. His thumb lightly teased the indent where her pulse fluttered. “I’ve been with a lot of women. But
none
of them has ever gotten to me the way you have. You’re under my skin, angel.”

His words made her shiver, and Cane shrugged out of his leather jacket. Almost reverent eyes glued to hers, he placed the jacket warmed by his body heat around her shoulders, enveloping Angelle with her favorite scent. The small, chivalrous gesture spoke volumes as to the kind of lover he would be, and it gave her the courage to say, “Follow me to the barn.”

Cane raised a dark eyebrow. Angelle felt a naughty smile twist her lips, daring him to argue. With a matching grin, he took her duffel bag, and then her hand, and fell into step beside her. “I’ll follow you anywhere, hellcat.”

Harsh gravel gave way to soft grass as they crept around the side of the house. Under her bare feet, the soft, damp earth tickled. The air she drew into her lungs crackled with awareness. Being with Cane was a sensory explosion—and the night hadn’t even begun.

Imagining what
sex
with him would be like gave her true palpitations. Fainting was suddenly a real possibility.

Dear God, please don’t let me faint.

Dappled moonlight reflected off the old barn and once they reached it, Cane stopped outside the entrance. “What now, angel?”

She glanced at the site for her seduction plans and sank her teeth into her lip. She still needed to set things up. With a wince she replied, “Mind waiting a few more minutes?”

His eyes crinkled as he chuckled. This was
so
not going as she’d planned.

Part of her considered abandoning her fantasy altogether, but Angie knew she’d regret it. There could be no do-overs, no second chances. You only lose your virginity once. And tonight, she wanted no regrets. “It’s just…I want everything to be perfect. For us. I kind of have a
thing
prepared…that’s why I brought the bag.” She fiddled with the belt on her robe and added, “It’ll only take a second, I promise.”

Cane grinned and slid the bag off his massive shoulder. “A thing, huh? Gotta tell you, I never took you for the kinky type.” Angelle’s face flamed as he handed the bag back, and he placed a knuckle under her chin. Gaze soft but serious he said, “I was teasing you, darlin’. Whatever you need to make tonight the best you’ve ever had, I’m down for it.”

The best I’ve ever had. That should be easy to accomplish.

A pang of worry hit at the thought, but she brushed it aside, quickly leaning up and kissing his cheek. “It won’t take long.” Then, before she lost her nerve—or revealed her secret too soon—she bolted inside.

Tugging out the flashlight she’d packed, Angelle clicked it on and easily made her way toward the ladder Ryan had built. As she carefully navigated over the broken step, lugging her bag of essentials to the loft, an annoying voice preached inside her head.

You need to tell him you’re a virgin,
it hissed
. And sooner rather than later.

“I will tell him,” she hissed back, throwing her bag over the top rail. “Just…not yet. This is huge. On the off-chance Cane decides it’s
too
huge and calls it off, I at least want to get a hint of the good stuff. Maybe even round a few bases.
Then
I’ll tell him.”

She waited a moment, but no further scolding came. Shoulders back, she set to work.

Angie spread the comforter over a pile of hay and dust, then placed candles at strategic spots around the loft, maximizing mood yet avoiding the unsexy risk of burn. After lighting the wicks, she grabbed the ancient boom box she’d kept up there since she was eleven and plugged it in. The final touch was sliding in her sex CD.

It was old school—no iPods for her—but then
she
was kind of old school, too.

Looking around the softly lit loft, she realized her fantasy had come to life. Everything was exactly how she’d pictured it. And the mystery man from her vision finally had a face. One that was handsome as hell. With the room arranged and no further reason to stall, Angelle cleared her throat. “I’m ready!”

Heavy footsteps immediately drew near. Angelle quickly slipped off Cane’s leather jacket, followed by her silk robe, then directed the flashlight’s beam toward the ladder. “Up here,” she called, glancing around again in a sudden panic.

Should she pose?

Lie down on the comforter, or stand with her hip jutted and boobs thrust out?

Why hadn’t she asked Sherry more questions?

Spinning in a circle, she surveyed her options and decided to go with the makeshift bed. Beds screamed passion, right? Hitting play on the stereo, Angie collapsed to the floor and squirmed to find the perfect seductive pose that said,
Come and get me.

Cane’s footsteps reached the ladder as the intro to “Crash Into Me” by Dave Matthews Band began. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle came from below. But then, all she cared about was that it
came
from just below
.

“Watch the broken third step,” she advised, her voice pitched much higher than normal, as heat flashed over her skin. Each creak that followed meant he was getting closer, until finally, his head peeked above the stairs.

He grinned. “Did you make a sex mixed tape?”

“Maybe.” Cane’s grin widened as he took the last step, pulling himself up onto the loft, and she admitted, “Okay, yes, I did. I made a sex tape.”

When a full smile broke across his face, Angie realized how that had sounded. “
No!
I mean a mixed tape. A
music
tape. I made a musical mixed tape for sex.”

Awkward Angie for the win.

She blew out a breath, wishing that for just once in her life she could do something important and not make a fool of herself. Lifting her hands to encompass the room, she said, “This is the thing.” Angelle shrugged a shoulder as she dropped her arms to fiddle with her see-through outfit. “You’re kind of fulfilling a fantasy for me.”

Cane glanced around, but his gaze quickly returned. Hot eyes traced the lines of her body and the thick knot in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Angel, it’s
you
who are fulfilling mine.”

Boom.
Any doubts that may’ve lingered were blown straight to hell. Stark honesty shone on his face and sincerity rang in his voice. This was right. It
felt
right. Finally, the trifecta she’d been waiting for—passion, excitement, and that gut-level truth—was all in one package. And what made it even better (though she’d never admit it aloud, at least not yet) was that Angie realized she’d fallen head over boots in love with him.