Читать книгу Six Hot Summer Nights - Leslie Kelly - Страница 9

Nameless woman.

Mia wished those words from two nights ago still didn’t cut right into her heart, but they did. Is that how Bronson saw her? Was he just kissing her as a prelude to a passing fling? How many women walked away from this Hollywood playboy on weak knees, nursing a broken heart?

God knew hers were still shaking from that toe-curling kiss. But would she just be a statistic when this week was all over? How flattering.

Mia touched up her lip gloss over lips that ached for more of Bronson’s touch and examined herself in the ballroom’s bathroom mirror. The short, deep plum dress with one shoulder bare and the other with a long, flowing sleeve made her feel just as sexy and feminine as the previous dresses.

Night three of the festival was no different than the others … except that she was aching even more for Bronson, and she knew she was every kind of a fool for feeling this way.

She was realistic, though. He may want her physically, but that’s where their relationship ended. That didn’t stop her from daydreaming, and their smoldering kiss certainly hadn’t done a thing to diminish her attraction. Bronson Dane was every woman’s walking fantasy, and her hormones were no different than those of any other female who’d had the fortunate opportunity to be close to the Hollywood powerhouse.

Mia smoothed a hand over her belly, trying to calm her jumbled nerves. Only a few more days and they would be back in Hollywood, and Bronson would be off to meetings about his next movie prospect.

She’d watched him charm actresses and build up actors’ egos, though Mia knew it was just for leverage if he wanted them in a film one day. Hollywood was all about getting everything you wanted, no matter who you had to play to get it. And Bronson played the game like a pro.

But she doubted he needed to do all the charming. Bronson Dane was a force to be reckoned with in the industry. Turning down a chance to work with him would be an idiotic career move for anyone.

Mia smiled at an elderly woman and exited the bathroom. Just as she turned at the end of the hallway, she ran into Anthony Price.

“Mia.” He pulled her into his strong arms for a friendly hug. “I thought I saw you the other night, but discounted the idea. I didn’t know you’d be here.”

She jerked back. “You can’t do that. What if someone had taken a picture?” What if Bronson had seen them?

Anthony glanced around. “Paparazzi aren’t allowed in here, but I do apologize. I was just shocked and happy to see you. Are you here with Olivia?”

Mia smiled at her previous employer. “And Bronson.”

Anthony’s smile dimmed. “Really. Do they—”

“I haven’t said a word, Anthony.” She knew he was nervous about opening a nearly forty-year-old secret and potentially ruining lives—she didn’t blame him. “I told you I wouldn’t reveal the secret and I keep my word.”

“I know you do.” He sighed. “I just haven’t figured out how to handle this. I mean, after all these years, lives will be changed forever. Not only that, but with my situation at home …”

Glancing behind her, Mia offered a smile. “I know. I’m here for you any time you need me. Don’t think because I’m not working for you that I’m not available to talk.”

“I appreciate that, Mia.” Anthony smiled. “I’m still trying to figure out why I let you go.”

“Because your marriage is more important than your assistant,” she reminded him. “You’ll be just fine, Anthony. You both need some time. But I should get back to the party before Bronson starts looking for me or someone sees us. It certainly won’t help your case.”

“You’re right. I can’t afford to lose Charlotte. But it was so good to see you again.”

“Perfect timing.”

Mia jerked around at Bronson’s deep voice. “Bronson.”

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he told her, his gaze on Anthony. “I was wondering if you were okay, but now I see you are.”

Why did she feel like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have? Damn. Could she not talk to a close friend without someone assuming something more sinister was going on?

Mia was smack dab in the middle of two of the most powerful men she knew. The air around them crackled with tension. Now that she could see them both up close, she studied their faces.

Yes, the resemblance was there. Subtle, but it was there.

Ironic that biological half brothers, raised in two separate families, could both grow up to be Hollywood moguls and totally despise each other.

“I didn’t realize Mia was your date,” Anthony told Bronson. “You’re a lucky man.”

Bronson’s gaze narrowed. “Yes.”

Mia couldn’t handle the awkward silence. God, if she was this uncomfortable, she couldn’t imagine how Anthony felt, having known the truth for the past six months.

When Anthony chose to reveal the secret to Olivia, he’d told Mia he would not cause a big scene and make more scandal than necessary. Even though he and Bronson despised each other, Anthony had always expressed his respect and admiration for the Grand Dane and wouldn’t do anything to purposely hurt her. Though he would confront her, eventually. He had a lot of questions for her.

Well, Mia knew one thing. She didn’t want these two together any longer. All they needed to do was have an argument about anything at all and news of it would be sent to every media outlet within moments—complete with pictures that would fuel the press even more.

She moved over to Bronson, placing a hand on his arm. “You ready? I could use some champagne.”

The muscle in Bronson’s jaw ticked. Mia gave a subtle tug on his arm.

“It was great to see you, Anthony,” she said.

“You look beautiful, as always, Mia.” Anthony leaned over and kissed Mia on the cheek. “I’m sure I’ll see you again before the festival is over.”

Mia smiled and, thank God, Bronson led her toward the champagne fountains. Celebrities mingled, sipping drinks, laughing, and all Mia could think of was how hard her heart was pounding over being in the middle of Bronson and Anthony. Mercy, they were something remarkable to look at, but she certainly wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of either of their angry stares.

As long as she just focused on her job and let Anthony handle everything, she had nothing to worry about. Yes, she wanted to help blend these two broken siblings, but that was not her place. Because she knew—God did she know—how much damage could be done by letting a life-altering secret slip.

Mia stopped at the champagne fountain and turned to Bronson. “Relax.”

His piercing blue gaze landed on her. “I’m relaxed.”

“You were until you saw Anthony. Now you’re shooting daggers.”

“It’s no secret that we don’t get along,” Bronson told her. He took a delicate flute and filled it with champagne. “Besides, I thought you two were finished. Or don’t you care who sees you?”

“I worked for him. We’re friends. That’s the extent of our relationship.” Mia took the drink he offered.

“You two looked cozy when I found you.” Bronson lifted a brow, tilting his head. “And the media says otherwise.”

Mia didn’t even pretend not to know what he was talking about. Her eyes narrowed. “You should know you can’t believe everything the Hollywood tabloids print. Why do you care anyway?”

Bronson shrugged, eyes roaming over the crowd. “None of my concern what you did with your ex-employer as long as it doesn’t trickle over into my family.”

His close-to-the-truth words nearly had her choking on her champagne. Mia quickly composed herself as his eyes came back to settle on her.

“Nothing gets in the way of my job,” she assured him. “I’m thrilled to be working for your mother.”

His silence combined with his intense stare left her unsettled.

“There’s something more, isn’t there?” she asked. There had to be. Anger radiated off Bronson. “You look ready to—”

“Leave it alone, Mia.”

His firm tone left no doubt he wasn’t happy with her observation. There was something deeper than just not getting along on set, but Bronson was private and there’s no way he would tell Mia … nor was it any of her business. Yet she couldn’t help her curiosity.

“Why did my talking to Anthony get you so riled up?”

“No concern of yours.” Bronson closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and settled them on her. “Just had a flashback of another time. Another place.”

Another woman. The words hung in the air, just the same as if he’d said them. Jealousy from Bronson Dane was certainly not something she expected, but she had a strong feeling past and present were getting jumbled together.

“It’s getting late,” he told her. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

Mia handed her glass off to a passing waiter. “Of course.”

Something had transpired between those two men, and more than likely no one knew about it but them. She certainly hadn’t heard anything while working with Anthony … at least nothing out of the ordinary.

If Bronson was this angry now, she could only imagine how furious he would be once he found out Anthony was his older brother.

Bronson didn’t know what he wanted more—to know what secret Mia and Anthony had been discussing or whether or not they’d been involved.

No. That was wrong. What he wanted most right now was Mia. Naked. Whatever had happened between her and Anthony in the past was irrelevant to what he wanted now. He refused to relive any part of the last relationship he’d had with a woman he’d trusted. Trusted her so much he’d been ready to spend his life with her and their child.

Their child. That turned out to be another lie.

Bronson rid his mind of that painful time and concentrated on something he understood. Lust. Good old-fashioned lust. He wanted the sexy, sultry Italian woman who’d taunted him with her radiant beauty, her teasing jasmine scent and the power she held over him.

Ushering Mia off the elevator, Bronson snaked his arm around her waist, guiding her toward her suite at the end of the wide hall.

Silence had accompanied them from the party, though the sexual tension had been apparent between them on the ride up. Now there was just one thing on his mind.

Mia pulled her key card from her small silver clutch and opened the door.

“Do you want to come in?”

And that was all the invitation he needed.

“Yes,” he said before he palmed her face and pulled her hard against him.

This was what he’d fantasized about since seeing her wearing droplets. Desired since she’d come to Cannes and strolled into the lobby wearing that draped-back dress. But this dress, this one-shouldered number, would be so easy to peel off her. And he would be shedding her dress in a matter of seconds.

Right now, though, he concentrated on her mouth. Her perfect lips that gave all he took. The lips he’d ached for since he’d tasted them two long nights ago.

He backed her into the suite, her clutch falling from her grasp just as the door slammed behind them. Her hands clenched around his biceps and squeezed just as she let out a soft moan.

Bronson lifted his mouth just a fraction. “I’ve wanted you for days. Tell me you’re not still with Anthony.”

“I never have been,” she assured him before she captured his mouth again.

Mia was just as hot and passionate as he’d anticipated, and even more so than the other night. Perhaps because they were behind a closed door now. And Bronson had every intention of taking advantage of this privacy. No paparazzi, no media. Pure, utter privacy.

He couldn’t take in enough of her at once. He wanted her. Naked. Now.

He continued moving her into the room until the backs of her legs bumped into the decorative table in the living area. All power was lost, all control vanished. His mouth traveled down her jawline to her neck, from her bare shoulder and on to the top of the clingy dress.

Mia placed her hands behind her on the table and arched into him, offering herself up as if she’d been needing, craving this moment as much as he had.

He lifted his head and slid the thin material down her arm until she freed herself of the unwanted sleeve. An ache he didn’t remember having in a long, long time encompassed every part of him. Taking the hem of her dress, he eased it up as Mia shifted from side to side to assist.

“I don’t have protection with me,” he told her, cursing himself for being ill-prepared.

“I have some in the cosmetic bag on the table behind you.”

God bless a prepared woman. He shuffled through the bag in a hurry, found the foil wrapper and smacked it on the table next to Mia’s hip.

She’d moved the dress farther up to her waist, giving him more than a glimpse of what she wore beneath.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as his eyes landed on the small scrap of lace in the same shade of purple as her dress. He slid the garment down her toned legs and over the stilettos. The fantasy shoes had to stay.

“You don’t know how much you’ve driven me crazy.” Bronson made quick work of his pants while Mia nipped along his jawline.

“Then kiss me because I’m going just as crazy waiting.”

She scooted to the edge of the table as he donned protection. Her long legs wrapped around his waist and he lost no time in taking her.

Yes … yes. Her body moved perfectly against his, and Bronson had to work to keep from being too rough, too fast. He wanted this feeling of euphoria to last. The anticipation building up to this paled in comparison to having Mia draped all around him.

He realized then that the past two days had all been foreplay leading up to this moment. And each one of those stepping-stones, from the subtle touches to the harmless flirting, was mild when he had Mia right where he wanted her.

With her body wrapped around his, Bronson set the rhythm, pleased when an audible sigh escaped her full, moist lips.

It was those lips that had driven him crazy. Hell, the entire package made him feel like a horny teenager, but those lips mocked him when they smiled, when they talked. When they moaned.

Bronson kept the pace fast because nothing, absolutely nothing could slow him down now. He feasted on Mia’s mouth. She grabbed hold of his shoulders, gripping the tux shirt he still wore because being inside her had taken precedence over being fully undressed.

Sweat drenched the skin beneath his shirt, and a fine sheen covered Mia’s shoulders as he moved his lips down to one freed breast.

He didn’t care that this was his mother’s assistant, didn’t care if she’d had or hadn’t had a relationship with Anthony. All Bronson knew was that he wanted this woman, and what he wanted, he took. And Mia, the intriguing, dark-eyed beauty, had been onboard from the first kiss.

When her body shivered, shook, Bronson stopped holding back and let go. As they crested together, he knew this was not a one-time thing.

When their trembling ceased, Mia opened her eyes and smiled. “I have to say, I like how you walk me to my room.”

Bronson nipped at her swollen, moist lips. “I should warn you: I intend to do this again as soon as I recover.”

Trembling fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt. “Maybe we could be skin to skin this time.”

Anticipation rippled through him. “Absolutely.”

No, Bronson didn’t care that Mia was his mother’s assistant, didn’t care that he didn’t trust her. And he sure as hell didn’t care if she was now or ever had been involved with Anthony Price.

Because he wasn’t getting his heart involved with anyone ever again. Not after his last relationship. His ex-fiancée had walked away after miscarrying a child he’d thought was his.

His ex-fiancée had met Anthony on a movie set, where she’d been the makeup artist, ironically the same way Bronson had met her. When Bronson and she began arguing after the death of the baby, and their relationship became strained, she’d thrown the supposed affair in his face once she’d walked out on him.

So, no, there was no love lost between Anthony and him. And any potential for future relationships was completely destroyed after that whole fiasco.

Lust and sex. That’s all Bronson had room for in his life, and the very naked woman in his arms would fill that void nicely.