A Bride for the Black Sheep Brother

Seven


Cooper leaned back in his seat, stretched out an arm along the back of the booth and considered Portia over the rim of his coffee mug. Was it possible that Portia—one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met—had a self-esteem issue? How was that even conceivable? She was gorgeous. More to the point, she was smart, funny and quirky. Not to mention passionate. He’d heard her talking about Beck’s Lodge. No woman who got that excited about hardwood floors could be a cold fish.

He just shook his head. “Nope. It’s not possible.”

“What?” She looked a little offended.

“I’m not buying it. I don’t believe—not for a minute—that there’s a red-blooded guy between here and the equator that wouldn’t—” Then he broke off because he couldn’t think of a polite term for hit that. “Just trust me.”

She shrugged. “You’re wrong. I’ve seen it too many times to count. There’s something about me that men find unappealing. They don’t hit on me.” She cocked her head to the side, considering. “Maybe it’s my name.”

“Your name?”

“Yeah. Portia. It’s an intrinsically rich, boring name, don’t you think? I’ve always wondered why my parents didn’t name me Polly or Paige. Or Peggy.”


He nearly snorted in derision. “You could never be a Peggy. Trust me. Peyton, maybe, but not Peggy.”

“But see, Peggy is a woman a man would buy a drink for in a bar. She’s fun.”

“Peggy is a generation older than you. If she’s fun, it’s because men my age expect her to bake them cookies, not because they want to date her.”

She slouched a little in her seat, clearly unable to counter his argument. “It would still be better than Portia.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Portia.”

“But—”

“So your name intimidates some guys. Any guy that’s turned off by a woman’s name is a jerk anyway. Besides, there are several things you’re not considering here.”

She frowned. “Like what?”

“For starters, you keep talking about first impressions.”

“So?”

“So, I know you. I’ve known you for over a decade. We’re long past the point of first impressions. I’ve seen you doing a headstand in a wedding dress. I’ve watched you face down Hollister and Caro over things you thought were important. I’ve danced with you at fund-raisers. For that matter, I’ve seen you waxing poetic about musty old buildings.”

She arched an eyebrow. “What’s your point?”

“Just that I know you better than you think I do. And I know you’re not the rich bitch you think your name implies. In short, you don’t fool me. I know exactly the kind of person you are.”

She looked briefly disconcerted, but then she smiled coolly. “You forget. It’s not you I’m trying to fool anyway. It’s your board and potential investors. And what they think about me personally is hardly the point. What matters is what they think about Bear Creek Lodge and more importantly, about your judgment.”

“No, the original question was whether or not you were okay with people thinking we’re seeing each other.” She opened her mouth like she was about to talk, but he waved her protests aside. “No, for a second, just forget about whatever crazy ideas you have about how different we are and about your name or your pedigree. Just for a second, pretend my instincts as a guy are correct and that every man who sees us together is going to assume I’d be an idiot not to do everything in my power to get you into my bed.”

Her mouth bowed into a perfect O of surprise. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Okay.”

“So you’re going to be okay with people assuming that?”

She thought about it for a minute and then shrugged. “I suppose so. People have certainly said worse things about me before.”

He was about to ask what she meant by that when the waitress returned, tapping the bill against her palm. “You have everything you need here?” she asked, smacking her gum. “’Cause I’m about to go off shift.”

He looked across the table at Portia, who could now barely meet his gaze. He smiled slowly. “Yeah. We have everything we need.”

He handed a couple of bills to the waitress and didn’t bother to wait for change.

It wasn’t until they were back at the hotel—after an endless car ride listening to her run through a to-do list long enough to stretch back to his apartment in Denver—before he asked, “What do you think? Do we have what we need?”

She pulled the hotel room key out of her bag and then looked down at her notes again. “Sure.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I, um...yeah. I think I can get started.” She looked delightfully flustered. “I can have a finalized guest list for you by tomorrow and I’ll need a place to stay here. Probably in Provo. And I’m not good driving in the snow, so maybe we can arrange a driver. But other than that—”

He cut her off by gently nudging a finger under her chin and urging her to look up at him instead of at her notes. “Yeah. Place to stay. Driver. Whatever you need, you’ve got. But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” She slowly closed her notebook without looking down at it. “Then what were you talking about?”

“I’m talking about us.”

“There isn’t an us.”

“So you keep insisting. But I need you to understand something. All that stuff about men not finding you attractive is just nonsense. You’re gorgeous. And if Dalton didn’t make you feel irresistible every day you were with him, then that’s his problem. Not yours.”

Her mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Thank you. But—”

“I’m not done.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I need you to understand something else. I’m not a nice guy. I’m not selfless. I’m not softhearted. I’m not overly generous. When I donate to charity, I do it for the tax break. When I help people, it’s generally because I think they’ll be able to help me at some point down the road.”

She was frowning now, clearly confused by this train of thought. “Ooookay.”

Well, if she’d been confused before, he was about to make things worse. So much worse.

He closed the distance between them and pulled her to him. He didn’t give her a chance to protest verbally, but pressed his lips to hers. There was a moment of shock. He felt it in the stillness of her whole body. The way her breath caught and her muscles tensed. But she didn’t resist. Not even for a second. She held very still while her body got used to the idea.

Then, slowly, her arms crept around his neck and her lips parted.

As for him? His body had been gearing up for this moment for about the past decade. So the second he felt her relax, he deepened the kiss. He moved his lips over hers, slowly coaxing her mouth open. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, learning the feel of her lips and the unique taste of her. She was sweet and tart, like the cherry pie she’d been eating. But her flavor was more complex than that. There was an underlying smokiness. A hint of darkness. His senses had barely registered all of that when she molded her body against his.

Her purse dropped to the ground beside their feet and he instinctively backed her up against the door until she was arching into him. Seeking him with the same desperation he felt.

Damn, but she felt good. Right. Like she’d always belonged there. Her curves were sexy and strong without being outrageous. Her body was sleek and muscular, but feminine in all the right places. There was so much hidden passion here. So many hidden depths. And he couldn’t wait to delve deeper into all that complexity. But they were still standing in the hallway outside her hotel room. Which was entirely too close to her bed. And while he had no problem taking her to bed immediately, he also knew that she was not ready for that.

So he pried himself away from her tempting body and took a step back. He ran a hand through his hair, because—frankly—it gave him something else to do with his hands beside touching Portia.

She just stared up at him, her eyes wide and shocked, her lips pressed together like she was trying to seal in the last of their kiss. “What was that for?”

“That was so you’d know.”

“Know what?”

“How much I want you.”

“You want? Me?”

“I do. And unless you tell me right now that you’re not the least bit attracted to me—unless you ask me to leave you alone—then I’m going to pursue you until you want me just as much. I know you’re not there yet. I know you’re nowhere near ready. But I’m a patient man and I can wait. But I wanted you to know, right now, what’s coming. Because sometime in the next couple of weeks, you’re going to convince yourself that I’m flirting with you because I’m just a friendly guy. And that every time I touch your elbow or put my hand at your waist or can’t resist touching your hair that it’s because I’m just stroking your ego. That I must pity you and I’m just trying to make you feel better.”


Her eyes had gone even wider by this point and he couldn’t resist stepping closer again. He didn’t kiss her this time—but he wanted to. Instead, he ran his thumb just under her lip until she opened her mouth again.

“Just remember, I’m not a nice guy. If I’m pursuing you, it’s because I want to take you to bed. It’s because I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you doing that headstand. First impressions be damned. Your relationship with Dalton be damned. I wanted you. And I’m tired of waiting.”

* * *

Portia stood in her hotel room just inside the door for several long minutes as she processed Cooper’s words.

It didn’t bode well for her that she hadn’t even been able to enter her room under her own willpower.

No, after making the rather startling proclamation that he wanted her—Cooper Larson wanted her?—he nabbed the hotel key card from her hand, popped open her door and gently guided her into her room before handing the key back to her and closing the door behind her. Then a second later, he’d said loudly, “Lock the deadbolt.”

Only then did she hear him go into his own hotel room, which was right next door to hers. A moment later, she heard the shower crank on and she stood there imagining him undressing and stepping into it. Naked.

Holy crap.

Not only was Cooper Larson naked in the room next door. He was taking a shower. And if the searing kiss he’d just given her was any indication, quite possibly a very cold shower.

Why was it that she’d never given a second thought to him showering before, but now the idea made her head spin?

Well, no mystery there.

Before, he hadn’t dropped that bomb on her. Before, he hadn’t told her that he’d wanted her for years. What on earth was she supposed to do with that information?

How was she supposed to work with him during the next month knowing that? How was she supposed to concentrate when all she could think about was the way he’d kissed her?

How was she supposed to—?

Portia suddenly realized that she’d started pacing. A familiar buzz skittered along her nerves. Energy all but bounced through her. When was the last time she’d been this wound up?

She hated this. And damn Cooper for making her feel this way.

And here he was, just blissfully taking a shower, like nothing had happened between them. Like nothing had changed at all.

Well, that was bull.

She grabbed her key card off the dresser where she’d carelessly tossed it and stormed out of her room. It took a solid three minutes of knocking on Cooper’s door before the shower cranked off and another minute before he opened the door.

He stood there, dripping water, towel wrapped around his waist. For an instant, a smile flickered across his face, like he thought there was a chance she’d come over here to take him up on his bargain. But then he had the good sense to read her expression.

“What. The hell. Was that?”

For a second, he seemed taken aback, but then he grinned. “Just fair warning.”

“How the hell am I supposed to work with you now? How the hell am I supposed to do my job when I’m distracted thinking about the fact that you want to take me to bed?”

Concern flickered across his face. “Is this a sexual harassment thing? Because I never meant—”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I know that. And you’re not my boss. I didn’t mean my job in that sense. I just meant—” She looked around and noticed that she was in his room. Damn it, she was pacing again. What was wrong with her? She forced herself to be still. What had she meant? “What exactly did you hope to achieve by telling me that? Did you think that once we had the sexual tension out on the table, I’d just come over and rip your clothes off?” She glanced at the skimpy towel. At his naked chest, which was so beautiful her fingers ached to touch him.

“Of course I didn’t think that,” he protested.

“Because that would be really stupid of me.” The words sort of sputtered out of her. Apparently, she could no longer form a coherent thought. She took a step closer to him. And then another. “I just mean, I’m not the type of girl to do this sort thing. And it would be really stupid to do it now.”

“It would be extremely stupid,” he agreed. But his perfect, irresistible lips had begun to curve into a smile and his voice had dropped to a husky purr.

Sure, she hadn’t had sex in a long time. And it had been even longer since she’d felt attractive. Since she’d felt wanted.

But that was exactly how Cooper made her feel. Desirable. Irresistible.

And before she even knew what she was doing, she’d taken yet another step closer and plastered her body against his.