Award-winning author Sandra Marton wrote her first novel while still at school. Her doting parents told her she’d be a writer someday and Sandra believed them. At high school and college, she wrote dark poetry nobody but her boyfriend understood. As a wife and mother, she devoted the little free time she had to writing murky short stories. Not even her boyfriend-turned-husband understood those. At last, Sandra decided she wanted to write about real people. That didn’t actually happen because the heroes she created – and still creates – are larger than life, but both she and her readers around the world love them exactly that way. When she isn’t at her computer, Sandra loves to bird-watch, walk in the woods and the desert, and travel. She can be as happy people-watching from a pavement café in Paris as she can be animal-watching in the forest behind her home in northeastern Connecticut. Her love for both worlds, the urban and the natural, is often reflected in her books.

You can visit Sandra Marton at her website at www. sandramarton.com

Malone’s Vow

by

Sandra Marton

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

SHE WAS A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN, but not the kind a man should even consider marrying.

Not a man like Bill Thornton.

Liam Malone knew it the minute he saw her.

Bill wasn’t her type. He was too good, too gentle, too trusting. He didn’t stand a chance at being able to handle a woman like Jessica Warren. She was all quicksilver heat, while Bill was a glowing ember.

Hell, Liam thought as he stared out the window of Bill’s study, past the rolling green lawn to Lake Washington glittering in the distance. He wasn’t much given to thinking in metaphors, but that was what he’d thought of last night, at the rehearsal dinner. One look at his oldest friend’s fiancée and he’d known Bill was making a big mistake.

Bill, of course, was clueless. He’d never been able to read women worth a damn. Liam always could. Jet-lagged as he’d been after the flight from Singapore to Seattle, one glance at his old friend’s bride-to-be had told him everything he really didn’t want to know.

“Wait until you meet Jessica,” Bill had written in the letter that had followed Liam halfway around the world. “This is like a fairy tale, Liam, with me as the frog the beautiful princess turns into a prince. I still can’t believe Jessica is going to be my wife.”

Liam could. He’d spent enough years on the fringes of what most people called polite society to know that men and women married for lots of reasons, and hardly any had much connection to anything as banal as love.

More than one woman had called him a cynic, but Liam didn’t agree. He was simply a realist. He understood that “love” was a catchall word people used instead of less poetic terms, especially in the rarefied strata of the very rich. Successful men married beautiful women as a balm to their egos. Beautiful women married successful men for the security of their wealth. He’d never sat in judgment on such arrangements. The trade-off was fair enough. It could work, assuming both parties to the deal were still willing to settle for those things a year or two into the marriage.

The men usually were. Arm candy was arm candy, after all. But the women often became restless. They wanted both jewels on their fingers and pleasure in their beds, and they went looking for it. One glance at Jessica Warren and Liam had known that Bill wouldn’t satisfy her for very long. She’d need more than his kindness and money to keep her happy.

It would take more than that to keep her at all.

But the poor bastard didn’t know it. He was marrying for love, and in his case, “love” really did mean a bucketful of syrupy clichés. One man, one woman. Forever after. Until death do us part. Bill was ready to swallow all of it, hook, line and sinker.

And that was the problem.

Give it a couple of years and Bill would still be crazy about his wife but she’d be bored to tears and looking for greener pastures. For all Liam knew, she was bored already. The flash in her eyes last night, when she’d caught him watching her, had said it all. She’d managed a nice girlish blush and a quick downward sweep of her lashes, but that hadn’t changed anything. She’d been interested. His best friend’s bride-to-be, interested in another man, the night before her wedding.

Interested in him.

Liam’s mouth thinned.

It wasn’t the first time a woman with a rich man in her life had given him that kind of look. Not all that long ago, he’d been the guy with the looks that turned women on and the empty pockets that turned them off. He’d lived by a combination of luck and his wits, but even so, he’d refused those invitations. He wasn’t into playing games with women who belonged to other men. At best, he’d found that kind of come-on amusing.

Not this time. A single glance from Bill’s fiancée, and he’d felt himself respond.

“Damn,” Liam muttered. He swung away from the window, tucked his hands into his pockets and paced the length of Bill’s study.

Of course, he’d responded. What man wouldn’t? The message in those eyes had been clear, a promise of satin sheets and silken skin, of heated whispers and sizzling caresses. In one swift instant, his brain had stripped away the expensive suit, undone the classically styled hair…

Well, why not? He wasn’t a saint. He was a healthy, heterosexual, thirty-four-year-old male. Yes, she was Bill’s fiancée but a man’s hormones had a way of ignoring the niceties. He knew that just as surely as he knew that a woman who was signing on for a happy ending with one man shouldn’t look at another the way Jessica Warren had looked at him.

The trouble was, he had no idea what to do about it. He couldn’t collar Bill and say, “You can’t go through with the wedding this morning. The marriage won’t work.”

Bill would laugh in his face. As far as he was concerned, Jessica was the only woman in the world. As soon as she’d gone to the powder room, he’d leaned in close and confided that he’d never been this happy in his life. Jessica was all the things he’d ever wanted. She was beautiful and good-natured; she was bright and charming. And when Liam had cautiously hinted that she was getting a good deal, too, that marrying a guy with an old family name and money wasn’t exactly a bad thing for a woman, Bill had happily agreed.

“Everything Jessica has, Liam—her education, her career—she got on her own.” His smile had turned soft and loving. “It’s going to be a joy to spoil her—if she lets me.”

She’d let him, Liam knew. She was, already. The rock on her finger, the expensive watch on her wrist…oh, yes, Jessica Warren would let her husband spoil her. The sad part, or maybe the good part, depending on your point of view, was that Bill’s gifts would make both of them happy, he to give them and she to receive them. The question was, would the jewels, the furs, the cars, be enough to keep the lady faithful?

Liam doubted it. He knew how this particular fairy tale would end, and he was helpless to do anything about it without telling Bill the way Jessica had looked at him…and the way he’d looked at her.

A muscle ticked in Liam’s jaw. He picked up a decanter of brandy and poured some into a crystal snifter.

There had to be some way to protect his oldest friend. They’d met at Princeton, where they’d made a strange pair. Bill had probably been enrolled the day he was born. Old-line money and a family that had come over on the Mayflower tended to do that for a man. Liam, on the other hand, was at Princeton courtesy of a glib tongue and money from the U.S. Army. His great-great-who-knew-how-many-times-great-grandfather had come to America either to escape the Irish potato famine or the long arm of the law, depending on who was telling the tale. Money and status weren’t exactly part of the Malone family history.

Liam smiled.

Still, he and Bill had clicked. They’d fallen easily into an older brother, younger brother relationship, especially after Bill lost his parents in a plane crash in his sophomore year. Bill had financial consultants but it was Liam, the man of the world, who’d counseled him about Life. Bill, for his part, had saved Liam’s tail more than once. Liam had been plagued with something an endless succession of advisors had called “an attitude problem.” Put simply, it meant he’d have been kicked out of college half a dozen times, if it hadn’t been for Bill and his connections.

It was time to return the favor.

“It’s good to see I can still read your mind at a hundred paces, Liam, my man.”

Liam swung toward the door. Bill, resplendent in his morning coat and striped trousers, grinned at him.

“Can you?” Liam said, and managed a smile.

“Sure.” Bill walked to where Liam stood, reached past him for the decanter and poured himself some brandy. “’What’s Malone doing now?’ I asked myself a minute ago.” Smiling, Bill lifted his glass to Liam’s. “’He’s stalking around my study,’ myself replied, ‘fortifying himself with brandy while he works up to telling me I’m on the verge of making the biggest mistake of my life.’” Bill laughed at the look on Liam’s face. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely, as long as you’ve asked.”

“I knew it. What else would a confirmed bachelor like you think on my wedding day?” Bill downed half his drink and grimaced. “I needed that. My stomach’s been going up and down like an elevator all morning.”

“Bill.” Liam put down his snifter. “Look, I know you think you’re in love with this girl…”

“Woman,” Bill said, and grinned. “Jessica has very definite opinions on the male-female thing.”

“Yes,” Liam said coolly, “I’m sure she does.”

“Wouldn’t go out with me at all, even though we’d been working together almost a year. Said it wasn’t right for a woman to date her boss.”

“But you managed to change her mind.”

Bill didn’t seem to hear the sarcasm in Liam’s tone. “I did,” he said, and gave a lopsided grin. “Bet you didn’t think I could talk a woman who looks like that into dating a guy like me, huh?”

Liam’s brows lifted. “This isn’t your first brandy today, is it?”

“It’s my first in this room,” Bill said, and chuckled. “Hey, you’d be edgy, too, if you were about to take a wife.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Liam said bluntly, and felt better for finally having spoken the truth.

Bill sighed, sank into his favorite leather armchair and sipped his brandy. “I wondered how long it would take you to get around to that.”

“Well, dammit, what choice do I have? You’re about to make the biggest mistake of your life—”

“See? I even got the wording right.”

“Bill, I’m serious.”

“So am I, Liam. I love Jessica and she loves me.”

“You know nothing about her.”

“I know everything about her. I told you, she’s had to make her own way in life. Her father never managed to hold on to a dime. He died when Jess was eighteen and she lost her mother only a year later. She’s never been married, she has a degree in business studies—”

“You know nothing about her,” Liam insisted. “You’ve only been dating her for, what, four months?”

“Only because she wouldn’t go out with me sooner.”

“Are you sleeping with her?” Liam said brusquely.

Bill blushed. “Direct, as always, Malone. Why do you want to know?”

A good question, Liam thought, and came up with what wasn’t quite an answer. “It’s normal for a man and woman who love each other to share a bed.”

“So?”

“So, if you haven’t slept with her, maybe you should consider why.”

“Liam, I know you’ve been with a lot of women but Jessica is—”

“Different. Yes, I figured you’d say that. Look, you have to know that there are women who use sex to snare a man.”

“Well, Jessica hasn’t. Not that it’s any of your business, but she hasn’t slept with me yet. I haven’t asked her to. She’s not that kind.”

Liam snorted.

“She isn’t, dammit!”

“There are all kinds of ways to use sex, Bill. Withholding it is only one of them.”

“Oh, for…” Bill shot to his feet. “Listen to me, Liam. Jessica is about to become my wife. Keep that in mind when you talk about her.”

“Dammit, Thornton, haven’t you grown up at all? You’re as naive as you were when you needed me to save your skinny tail from the weird babe with the purple hair. You were certain she was the love of your life, too, remember?”

“Oh, give me a break! I was eighteen, not thirty.”

“And not much smarter, from what I can see.”

Bill’s mouth thinned. “Back off, okay? I love Jessica, and she loves me.”

“What if it’s your money she loves? Your name? The step up you’ll give her by marrying her?”

“It isn’t.” Bill walked to Liam’s side, smiled and clapped a hand lightly on his back. “She loves me for myself, hard as that may be for you to believe, considering that it’s you, with your black Irish good looks, the ladies always drool over.”

“Dammit, hear me out.”

“No.” Bill threw an arm around Liam’s shoulders. “No, for once, Malone, you hear me out. This is love. The real thing, and don’t judge it by your need to bed every good-looking female in sight, or by figuring a man with a bank account is always a hostage to his money.”

Liam looked at his old friend. He thought of telling him he’d changed that attitude when he’d finally decided there were better ways to indulge a love of risk than on the fall of the cards, but then he’d have to explain more than that, and this wasn’t the time to do it. Not on Bill’s wedding day, and it looked as if this really was going to be his wedding day.

Hell. Maybe Bill was right. Maybe the marriage would work. The bottom line was that there was nothing more he could do, except hope he was around to help pick up the pieces if, and when, the time came.

“Liam?”

Liam looked up.

“You could, at least, try and look happy for me.”

“Sure.” Liam sighed. “I hope it works out. You know that.”

“It will,” Bill said solemnly. “Jess is the best thing that ever happened to me. Once you get to know her, you’ll think so, too. Come on, get that sour look off your face and admit the truth. You’re just jealous ‘cause I’ve found the perfect woman.”

Bill smiled. Liam tried to, and wondered if he’d succeeded. “I hope you’re right.”

“I know I am. Now, drink up, wish me luck and then get out there and do your duty. I fielded half a dozen phone calls after the rehearsal dinner last night, every last one from a lady aching to know more about my best man.”

Liam grinned. “Only half a dozen?”

“All right, a dozen.” Bill grinned, too, and touched his glass to Liam’s. The men finished their brandy, put down the snifters and walked to the door together. “You know how come you’re such a cynic, my man? It’s because the ladies let you get away with murder.”

“The Malone charm,” Liam said lazily. “Love ’em and leave ’em, that’s me.”

“Yeah, well, sooner or later, you’ll meet a woman like my Jessica and you’ll change your tune.”

“Sure,” Liam answered, because an intelligent man always knew when it was time to admit defeat. “Maybe in the next century.”

Bill laughed. “Go on out and charm the ladies.”

Liam strolled through the house to the music room, where the ceremony would take place. Pink and white roses filled the air with their perfume, and strains of Vivaldi drifted from the library. A pair of bridesmaids, ethereally lovely in gowns of palest pink, flashed him welcoming smiles.

Welcoming smiles to what he knew was going to end in disaster.

Liam turned on his heel and made his way through the house and out a side door to a garden with narrow, hedge-lined paths winding through it. He’d done what he could to convince Bill he was making a mistake. He was his friend’s best man, not his conscience.

From this moment on, everything was up to fate.

UPSTAIRS, in one of the guest suites of her fiancé’s home—the home that would soon be hers—Jessica paced restlessly from one wall to the other.

She’d longed for a perfect wedding day, and she had one. Blue skies, bright sun, not a single cloud to obscure the silhouette of Mount Rainier on the horizon…rare things in Seattle, but then, this was a special day. She was marrying the man she loved.

“Fate has really smiled on you, Jess,” her maid of honor had said just a little while ago.

It was true. Jessie had never put much stock in fate, but how else could she explain all the wonderful things that had happened in the past few months? She and William had gotten to know each other. Their mutual respect had become friendship, and friendship had become love.

Jessica looked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled. How could the day be anything less than perfect? Not just the weather but everything. The music she and William had selected. The menu they’d planned. The vows they’d written together.

I, Jessica, do solemnly vow that I will love you, William, for the rest of my life, that I will always be at your side…

Her stomach did a slow, dangerous roll.

She was nervous, that was all. And that was normal. Everybody said so, from the seamstress who’d put a couple of quick darts into her ivory satin gown to the stylist who’d plaited tiny pink tea roses into her hair. Even Carrie, her maid of honor, had said the same thing when she saw Jessie’s hands trembling.

“Butterflies,” Carrie had assured her. “All brides have them.”

Where was Carrie, anyway? How long could it take to look for a bridal bouquet? Jessica glanced at the platinum-and-diamond watch William had given to her last night at the rehearsal dinner. “Something new,” he’d said softly. The “something old” was the emerald-and-diamond engagement ring on her finger, which had belonged to his mother and grandmother.

The watch had caught her completely by surprise.

“Oh, it’s too much,” she’d blurted when she opened the long blue box and saw the wink of diamonds. William had laughed, kissed her gently and said that nothing was too much where she was concerned.

“I love you, Jess,” he’d said softly.

Jessica swallowed dryly. She loved him, too. Her fiancé was a kind, generous, wonderful man and she was the luckiest woman in the world, and yes, the day really was going to be perfect…if she could just stop trembling.

“Butterflies,” Jessie whispered to her image in the mirror. “All brides have them.”

Was that true? She didn’t know much about brides, perhaps because she’d never thought she’d be one, not after watching her mother endure a marriage to a man who’d made a mockery of the word. Jessie’s father had been a handsome rogue. He couldn’t stay in one place for very long or, as it turned out, be faithful to one woman, but her mother had adored him anyway.

Jessie grew up knowing she’d never be that kind of fool. Why would a woman have to be blinded by passion to fall in love? Love could be something that happened slowly and gently. That was the best way, the way that would last.

She smiled.

That was the way she’d fallen in love with William.

She’d worked for him for almost a year before he’d asked her out and even then, she’d turned him down. She knew that dating your boss was never a good idea, but he’d been gently persistent and, at last, after a late night at the office, she’d agreed to dinner. Saying no under those circumstances would have been silly. Soon they’d begun spending all their time together. When he’d proposed, saying yes had been the most natural thing in the world.

Now she was less than an hour away from becoming Mrs. William Thornton the Third. It was hard to believe it was happening.

One man, one exchange of vows, for the rest of her life. Maybe it wasn’t fashionable to believe in forever-after anymore, but Jessie did. It worried her a little that she’d never yet wanted more than William’s tender good-night kisses, but she was sure that would change. Given time, her skin would tingle when he touched her. Just looking at him would make her breathless. She’d feel the way she’d felt last night, when she’d first laid eyes on Liam Malone.

Jessie took a step back, felt the bed hit behind her knees and sank down on the edge of it.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, and shut her eyes as if she could block out the memory. What was she doing, thinking about another man on her wedding day? She hadn’t even been looking forward to meeting Liam. William had talked about him endlessly, until she’d been weary of hearing the name and the stories that went with it. How Liam traveled the world. How he made fortunes and lost them on the turn of a card. How he went through women. She’d been appalled by some of the stories, fascinated by others and aware, almost immediately, that her sweet, sensible William was wistfully envious of Liam’s free and easy life.

She’d come up with a picture to go with the tall tales. Liam would be sexy as sin, gorgeous as the devil and twice as persuasive. In other words, he’d be the kind of man she most disliked.

As it turned out, she’d gotten it almost all right. The rehearsal dinner had been in full swing; William had been holding her hand and telling her how happy they were going to be. Suddenly he’d dropped her hand, leaped from his chair and said, “Liam, my man, you made it!” She’d looked up and there, in the doorway, she’d seen Liam Malone for the very first time, exactly as she expected: tall, broad shouldered, with a handsome face, a shock of silky black hair and emerald-green eyes.

What she hadn’t expected was the jolt of electricity that slammed through her when those green eyes met hers. Her heart had gone into overdrive and a pervasive heat had slipped under her skin. She’d felt all the reactions she’d sworn she’d never feel for any man, and she’d felt them for her fiancé’s best friend.

She’d wanted to bolt from her chair and run. Instead, she’d torn her eyes from Liam’s, stared blindly down at the table, and hoped, prayed, that the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Jessica, sweetheart,” she’d heard William say, and she’d forced herself to look up and smile. William had his arm slung around Liam’s shoulders and he was smiling, too, but Liam hadn’t smiled at all. He’d just watched her through narrowed eyes set in a face that might have been chiseled from granite.

Somehow she’d stood up, said all the right things, extended her hand and tried not to jump at the tiny spark that leaped from Liam’s fingers to hers.

“Static electricity,” she’d said with a forced laugh.

“Indeed,” Liam had replied, and the slightest smile had curved his mouth, a smile that said he knew exactly what she was feeling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Jessica.”

And that had been the end of it.

Jessie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

What was the matter with her? That had been the end of it. The moment had come and gone. Liam pulled up a chair, William settled in beside her again, and she’d listened while the two friends talked about old times. Her gaze had met Liam’s once again but she’d looked quickly away and, before she knew it, the evening ended. Come stay with us, William had said, and she’d found herself fearing the answer, but Liam had thanked him politely, said he already had found a place and went off to wherever it was.

“A hostel, for all I know,” William had said cheerfully, “or a penthouse. It depends on whether his luck’s been good or bad.”

Good, Jessie thought now, remembering the expensive cut of Liam Malone’s gray suit. Or maybe bad, considering the longer-than-it-should-have-been, black-as-midnight hair that curled over his collar. She thought, too, of what William had told her, that Liam liked to gamble. Poker was his specialty, William said, but Jessie knew that women would be Liam Malone’s specialty, women who were willing to trade one night in his bed for a lifetime of hot memories.

She stood up quickly and smoothed down her skirt. Where was Carrie? Better still, where was William? She needed to see him, put her hand in his, feel the warmth of his smile.

“Got ’em!”

Jessie swung around. Her maid of honor stood in the doorway, holding a bouquet of tiny pink roses, trailing baby orchids and lacy-white stephanotis in her hand.

“Would you believe the kid who delivered the flowers left your bouquet on a table in the—”

“Have you seen William?” Jessie hadn’t meant to sound so shaky, but the look on Carrie’s face told her she hadn’t succeeded.

“What’s the matter, Jess?”

“Nothing. I just want to see him, that’s all.”

“You can’t see him. It’s bad luck for the bride and the groom to see each other before the ceremony.”

It was worse luck to think about another man before the ceremony, but Jessie knew better than to say that.

“That’s just a silly superstition.”

“Maybe, but do you really want to tempt fate?”

“No.” Jessie gave a choked laugh. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

“Jess.” Carrie’s voice softened. “Honey, I keep telling you, all brides are jittery.”

“I know. And I’m not jittery. I just—I need some fresh air.” Jessie gathered up her skirt so the hem wouldn’t drag. “I’m going for a walk in the garden.”

“What?” Carrie stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You can’t! It’s only half an hour until the ceremony.”

“That’s plenty of time.”

“What if someone sees you?”

“Nobody will. I’ll go down the back stairs.”

“But—but you’ll get grass stains on the hem of your gown.”

“I won’t. See?” Jessie hoisted the gown higher.

Carrie sighed. “Well, who am I to argue with the bride? You want to go for a walk? Fine. We’ll go for a walk.”

“No!” Jessie swallowed hard. “No,” she said, more calmly, “really, I need a few minutes by myself.”

“It’s cold outside,” Carrie said worriedly. “At least take a jacket.”

“It’s okay,” Jessie said, “I know what I’m doing.”

But she didn’t. And the enormity of the lie scared the life out of her.

THE GARDEN WAS QUIET. All the hullabaloo was taking place inside the house. Liam was glad he’d decided to go for a walk where he could escape the necessity for social niceties.

He felt a lot better, too. For all he knew, Bill was right. Maybe he’d misread everything. The newlyweds would settle into a pleasantly dull marriage. A couple of years down the road he’d look at Jessica and know that he’d been wrong about her.

But if he was, then what was that invitation he’d seen in her eyes last night? What would she have done if he’d taken her up on it, if he’d walked straight across the room, pulled her out of her chair and kissed her?

Slugged him, probably, because whatever else the lady was, she wasn’t a fool. Bill would have slugged him, too, but at least he’d have learned if that soft, pink mouth tasted as sweet as it—

There was a whisper of sound just behind him. Liam drew a breath. Even before he turned around, he knew she’d be there.

“Miss Warren,” he said with deliberate courtesy.

Her chin lifted, her cheeks pinkened. Could she possibly know what he’d been thinking?

“Mr. Malone,” she said, just as courteously. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Is it customary for brides to wander around, alone, moments before they wed?”

“I might ask you the same question about groomsmen. What are you doing in the garden?”

Liam looked at the woman who was about to marry his best friend, into the smoky blue eyes that had haunted him through a long and sleepless night.

“Looking for you,” he said, and before she could respond, he reached for her.

CHAPTER TWO

PEOPLE ALWAYS TALKED about time standing still or going too fast, but in Jessie’s experience, time was more like a treadmill. It moved at a steady, predictable pace.

Now she knew she’d been wrong. Liam reached for her and time hung suspended by a silken thread. She had all the opportunity she needed to anticipate what was about to happen. He was going to take her in his arms, gather her close and kiss her. And she’d let him do it. The dreams that had kept her awake half the night because, yes, she’d dreamed of him, yes, she’d imagined this happening…those dreams would come true.

She sighed, lifted her head, closed her eyes, waited to feel the hardness of Liam Malone’s body, the race of his heart…

Waited to betray William.

She took a quick step back, her hands upraised. “No,” she said, but it didn’t stop him. Liam caught her hands, drew them down. “Liam,” she said sharply, “think of William!”

He lifted his head and stared at her through eyes that were dark and hot. Slowly, like clouds receding after a storm, the wildness in his eyes faded. A shudder racked his body, and his hands fell to his sides.

“My God!” He spoke in a choked whisper. “We must be crazy.”

Jessie opened her mouth, then closed it. The truth was ugly, but she couldn’t deny it. She’d been a part of what had almost happened.

“Nothing happened.” Panic lent her words harsh urgency. “Nothing,” she repeated, as if saying it again would make it so.

“No.” Liam nodded. He turned his back to her and she saw the rise and fall of his shoulders, heard the sound of breath being dragged deep into his lungs. “Nothing happened. And anyway, it didn’t mean a…” He swung toward her, anger etched into his face. “The hell it didn’t! I’m Bill’s best man. You’re his bride. And we almost went at each other like a pair of—of sex-starved teenagers. And you say, nothing happened?”

“Mr. Malone…”

“Oh, that’s great. That’s terrific. Another minute, we’d have been down on the grass and you’re calling me ‘Mr. Malone’?”

Jessie stiffened. “There’s no need to be crude.”

“Crude is you not remembering that you’re marrying my best friend this morning.”

A breeze rustled through dried autumn leaves still trapped in the hedge. Jessie shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

“I remembered it, and so did you. That’s why nothing happened.”

“I came within a breath of betraying my friend. You came within inches of violating the promises you’ve made him. Seems to me that something happened.”

The wind lifted a strand of Jessie’s hair. Her hand trembled as she smoothed it back. He was right. They’d almost kissed. Pretending they hadn’t wouldn’t change the fact, but there had to be an explanation. She’d never hurt William. Never.

“All right.” Her voice quavered. “But—but it’s been a stressful week.”

“Now, why didn’t I think of that?” Liam said coldly. “You’re stressed. I’m jet-lagged. And that makes it all…” He paused, then blew out a ragged breath. She was right. Nothing they could do would erase that one moment but, the truth was, they hadn’t done anything. The best solution was to shove the memory into a dark corner and forget it was there.

“Okay. We made a mistake. Let’s leave it at that.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying.” Something in his eyes—contempt, perhaps, or a suggestion of it—stirred Jessie’s anger. “And if you want to be specific, Mr. Malone, we didn’t make a mistake. You did. I’m not the one who—who…”

“Do us both a favor, okay? Let’s not waste time lying.” His mouth twisted. “You and I both know what’s going on here. You looked at me last night exactly the way you did a couple of minutes ago.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jessie gathered up the skirt of her bridal gown. “And I have better things to do than stand here and talk nonsense.”

“Yeah,” Liam said coldly. “You have to step up to a judge, take Bill’s hand and promise to love, honor and cherish till death—”

“I know the vows I’m going to take, Mr. Malone.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed until there was just the barest flash of green. “I thought you were all wrong for him. Now I know it.”

“Is that what this—this little episode was all about? The Liam Malone quality control test?” Jessie said, trying to keep her tone as cold and even as his.

“Bill deserves better than you. A man deserves a woman who loves him without reservation.”

“And that’s just the way I love William,” she said heatedly. “He knows that.”

“Right.” Liam smiled tightly and rocked back on his heels. “I’m sure he’d agree that the last few minutes prove it.”

“You can’t tell him! You’d break his heart!”

“I know that. No, I won’t tell him. Neither will you. You’re right. Nothing happened.” He paused, and a seductive softness crept into his voice. “But it could have.”

Jessie knew what he was thinking. How it would have been, if they’d kissed. The mingling of breath. The taste. The feel of his arms around her, the heat of their bodies pressed together.

“This is a pointless conversation,” she said, and some small part of her mind gave a brisk nod of approval that she could sound so calm when she was shaking inside. “William is waiting. The wedding—”

Liam caught her wrist as she began to turn away. “Why didn’t you slap me?”

“Mr. Malone. Liam. I thought we just agreed—”

“It’s a simple question. You knew what I was about to do. How come you didn’t haul off and slug me?”

“Is that how the women you come on to generally react?” She smiled sweetly before her lips hardened into a thin, accusing line. “I don’t understand how William can think of you as his best friend. You’re not like him at all.”

“No,” Liam said softly, “I’m not.”

He took a step toward her; she retreated, but the bench was behind her and she was trapped. Her heart pounded. She’d been right about Liam Malone. He was sexy as sin and gorgeous as the devil. Why hadn’t she realized he’d be as dangerous as the devil, too?

“Keep away from me!”

He smiled, a quick glint of white teeth against his tanned face. “Maybe that’s what appeals to you, Jessie.” Lazily he ran a finger over her cheek. “Maybe you know there’s no way you could wrap me around your little finger, or buy me off with a smile and a promise.”

“You’re right. I should have slapped you. You’re a horrible man.”

“I must be,” he whispered, his fingers curling around the back of her neck, “because I’m going to finish what I started a few minutes ago. What you want, despite all your self-righteous protests.”

He watched her face as he drew her to him and told himself he was only doing this because she was twisting things, making it sound as if he were the only one who’d wanted the kiss. One whisper of dissent, just one, and he’d back off. But when she looked up at him, he saw that her eyes had gone from blue to the color of the sky just before sunrise in the mountains, and not all her protests or his excuses could keep those eyes from telling him everything he needed to know.

“Jessie,” he said softly, and she sighed, tilted her head back and met his descending mouth with hers.

It was a gentle kiss, only the brush of his lips over hers. It was the kiss a man gives a woman when he knows he can never claim the taste of her again. And because the kiss was gentle, because Jessie knew that there would only be this once between them, because she could no more have stopped the rotation of the earth than rid herself of the need for it, she let it happen. She let him draw her closer, and when he did, she laid her palms flat against his chest, rose on her toes and parted her lips to his, let him slip his tongue into her mouth.

A wave of white-hot flame consumed her. She moaned, curled her fingers into the lapels of Liam’s morning coat and let everything she’d spent the night dreaming about happen. His kiss was all the poets said a kiss could be. It was more. It was turning her inside out, dissolving her flesh, melting her bones. It was…

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