PrivateParty
PrivateParty
JAMI ALDEN
KENSINGTON BOOKS
www.kensingtonbooks.com
PrivateParty
To Gajus.
Thanks for loving me,
supporting me,
and always believing in me,
Acknowledgments
They say it takes a village to raise a child, but in my case it also takes one to write a book. As usual, I am indebted to my amazing friends and critique partners, Bella Andre and Monica McCarty. Thanks for reading this and giving me invaluable feedback even after the hundredth read. And thanks to the fabulous Fog City DivasI always leave our gatherings inspired and ready to dive back in.
And I especially want to thank every single reader who has taken the time to write to tell me how much she enjoyed my books. When Im sitting alone in front of my computer, literally pounding my head to get the words to come out right, its feedback like that that keeps me going.
PrivateParty
J ulie Driscoll was, without a doubt, the most beautiful bride Chris Dennison had ever seen. Her strapless ivory gown left her arms bare, and, if he closed his eyes, he could imagine how silky her skin would feel against his fingertips. Though her veil obscured her face, he could vividly picture wide, long-lashed eyes the color of the Caribbean sea at sunrise; her small, slightly upturned nose; and full pink lips. Her breasts swelled tastefully against the bodice of her dress, though even that was enough to make his mouth dry and his palms sweat. With the wide, poofy skirt of her wedding gown nearly spanning the entire width of the aisle of San Franciscos Grace Cathedral, she reminded him of a luscious dollop of whipped cream, tempting him to lick her up with one lusty sweep of his tongue.
His chest got tight as she approached, his stomach twisting in knots as every step led her closer to the altar. She was really going to go through with this. Hed had eighteen months to mentally prepare himself, and still the realization hit him like a fist in the gut. He clenched his hands into fists, took a deep, calming breath, and willed himself not to turn tail and run from the church as fast as he possibly could. Hed made a promise, and unlike some men in his family, when he gave his word he kept it.
Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?
Chris watched, a sour ache building in his stomach, as her father, Grant, lifted her veil to reveal a nervous-looking smile that didnt quite reach her eyes.
Her mother and I do, Grant replied, and Chris swallowed back the curse screaming in his brain as Julies groom, Chriss older half brother, Brian, stepped forward to take her trembling hand.
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Where in the world is he? Its time to cut the cake.
Im sure hell be here any minute, Julie Driscoll Dennison attempted to soothe the frazzled wedding planner. Why dont you have one of the ushers check the bathroom, and Ill see if hes out in the lobby.
Honestly, youd think Brian would know better than to disappear in the middle of the reception.
Everything okay? Wendy, Julies maid of honor, sidled up alongside her and asked.
I cant find Brian. He probably needed a moment to himself. Wendy quirked a brow. Right
Okay, so Brian wasnt exactly the introspective type, but still, it was his wedding day. God knew Julie was all but overwhelmed by it all. I dont suppose youve seen him. Wendy shook her head. Wheres his brother? I thought it was the best mans job to keep tabs on the groom.
He left right after he did his toast, Julie said. She smiled a little when she thought of Chriss toast. So practiced, so polite. So unlike him. Chris wasnt the kind of guy who worried about what people thought of him, especially not the stuffy, overly self-important crowd attending her wedding. His easygoing, casual style made him stick out in this crowd, even as he tried to fit in.
Unlike Brian, who could have been a GQ cover model, Chriss dark brown hair was always a little shaggy, his big, muscular body always looking a little too big for his clothes. But he had looked absolutely delectable in his tux, the white shirt a seductive contrast to his skin, burnished from the strong Caribbean sun. Chris had always been gorgeous in a rough around the edges kind of way, and hed only improved in the five years since shed seen him last.
She closed her eyes, trying not to imagine the acres of tanned muscularity he had hidden under that tux.
Shed thought shed gotten over her silly teenage crush on Chris a long time ago, and her wedding day to his half brother was no time for her to resurrect it.
She mentally slapped herself. Today was her wedding day, for goodness sake. All of her months of hard work and planning had finally come to fruition, and now was not the time to revisit her long-dead infatuation with her fabulous grooms black sheep of a younger brother.
She exited the ballroom and made her way down a hall, stopping to chat politely with guests along the way. As she neared a utility closet, a thump sounded from behind the door. Then a giggle. Then a moan.
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A decidedly masculine moan.
Her stomach somewhere around her knees, Julie had an awful premonition of what she would find behind that door.
You son of a bitch. Her voice sounded very far away, like it came from the end of a long, echoing tunnel.
She squeezed her eyes so tight her eyelids cramped. This could not be happening. It simply couldnt.
But there was no mistaking Brian, frozen mid-thrust as he nailed another woman against the wall, who was gaping over his shoulder at her in a way that would have been comical under other circumstances.
She spared the other woman a quick glance. Ah, of course, the lovely Vanessa, Brians newest assistant.
She had suspected Vanessas employment had more to do with her mile-high legs and oversized chest than her secretarial skills, and she kicked herself for stupidly giving Brian the benefit of the doubt. But the last time shed caught him cheating hed sworn to God, on his grandmothers grave, and the title of his prized Ferrari, that it would never, ever happen again. Hed promised that the next time he would have sex would be with Julie, on their wedding night. And with their wedding plans forcefully in motion, it had been easier to believe him than to admit she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life.
Julie, its nothing. It doesnt mean anything. Brian fumbled with his tuxedo pants, grabbing at his cummerbund as the trousers slid back down around his ankles. Vanessa had pulled her skirt down and made a dive to retrieve her underpants. The action sent Brian stumbling backward over a mop and bucket, and he landed on his ass in the middle of Vanessas chest.
Julie had never been sucker punched, but she imagined this was what it might feel like. A sharp hit to the middle of her chest, a sensation of all the air leaving her lungs, leaving her gasping like a dying trout.
Pain radiated through her, accompanied by the icy burn of humiliation. Still, she grasped for control, trying not to let Brian see that she was blowing apart from the inside out, into a thousand tiny fragments.
Her mind worked frantically, searching for the appropriate thing to do or say in a situation like this. But there was no sweeping this under the rug with social niceties.
Taking a mop handle and shoving it somewhere extremely painful was probably not the best response, however appealing it was at the moment. Were supposed to cut the cake now, she said stupidly.
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