Redeemed by Passion Page 6

  “Tough day?” The words slipped out before Brooks could pull them back. It was a stupid question; he was blackmailing her into marrying him. How could she be having a good day?

  Nic, thank God, chose not to respond. “So let’s talk about this farcical arrangement we are entering.”

  Okay, then, straight to business. “Absolutely, since Teresa needs some answers.”

  “So do I,” Nic replied. “I know why I am sacrificing my freedom and my single status but why are you doing this? What’s prompting you to marry a woman you don’t even know? Are you gay?”

  Brooks grinned, not at all offended. Some of his favorite people were gay. “Nope.”

  His eyes dropped to her cleavage, to the soft skin on display, and lust shot straight to his groin. He was very not-gay. He started to swell and didn’t really care if she noticed. The sooner she got used to the idea that he was intensely attracted to her, the sooner he could take her to bed. And, judging by the way her cheeks flushed at his blatantly sexual stare, she’d had a sexy thought, or two, about him.

  Good, one less mountain to climb.

  “Just like you, I need to marry to reach a goal.”

  “What goal? What are you trying to achieve? You didn’t tell me anything last night,” Nic demanded, and Brooks could see why she was such a good reporter. The woman was tenacious.

  What harm could it do if he told her? He didn’t think she would turn his words into an article but, just to cover his bases, he tossed out the question, “Off the record?”

  Nic’s sour expression conveyed her annoyance at his question. When he didn’t speak again, she lifted her hands in frustration. “Of course it’s off the record. I’m not going to write a story about my fiancé!”

  She had the reputation of playing it straight, of not repeating stories told to her in confidence, so Brooks allowed himself to relax a fraction. “In order to access a lot of cash from Abbingdon Trust, I need to be married. And I need to marry either on or before the last day of the month, which is my birthday.”

  “I thought that you are wealthy. What do you need money for?”

  Yeah, her curiosity wasn’t easily satiated.

  “I own a forty-nine-percent share in Abbingdon Airlines,” Brooks explained. “The remainder of the shares are owned by my grandfather, in his personal capacity, and he wants to sell his stake. If I am married on my thirty-fifth birthday, I inherit a load of cash via the Abbingdon Trust and I can buy complete control of Abbingdon Airlines.”

  “Are you certain your grandfather will sell to you and only you?”

  Brooks knew that his smile was a little self-satisfied but he was still proud of himself for inserting clauses into his agreements with his grandfather that provided for such an eventuality.

  “As per our agreement, he has to sell me shares if and when I have the cash. I would’ve been happy for him to keep the shares if he wasn’t dead-set on using his shares as collateral on another silly, guaranteed-to-lose-his-shirt business proposition.”

  Nic took a healthy sip of her wine. “What would happen to the cash if you weren’t married by thirty-five? Would you lose it?”

  Brooks shook his head. “Nope. Every five years the offer is made, with the same conditions.”

  “So why didn’t you get married at thirty?” Nic asked.

  “Didn’t need the money, hadn’t met anyone I wanted to marry, there was no urgency to.” Brooks shrugged. “Now there is.”

  “And I’m the sacrificial goat.”

  Brooks felt a spurt of annoyance and the acid taste in the back of his throat. Was he that bad a catch? Was this really the worst thing that could happen to her? He had all his teeth and hair, wasn’t a complete jerk and intended to keep her in a style any woman could easily become accustomed to. He was going to fund her documentary, introduce her to influential people who’d make sure her film received the exposure it needed.

  And when they parted, he’d inject a significant amount of cash into her bank account. Why was she acting like she was headed toward the hangman’s noose?

  And why did he care? Why did her approval matter so much? Generally, he didn’t care what people thought about him but Nic’s approval, for some insane reason, seemed to matter to him.

  Nic put her wineglass down on the coffee table and lifted her arms to tighten the tie holding her long, thick hair off her face. Her breasts lifted and Brooks sucked in his breath as he saw the freckles on her chest, a hint of her lacy white bra. God, anyone would think that he hadn’t had a woman in years instead of weeks...

  But he’d never had Nic.

  And why that should make a difference he had no damn idea.

  “Let’s talk weddings,” Nic said, her tone brisk and her eyes cool. “Why the big push for something wildly over-the-top?”

  “It’s an opportunity to throw a helluva party on someone else’s dime.” Brooks placed his ankle on his opposite knee. “And also because it will generate publicity. For me, for Abbingdon Airlines and for you.”

  Nic frowned. “For me?”

  “Sure. You’re an entertainment reporter and your marriage to me will generate a lot of interest and grow your profile exponentially. That will help you generate publicity when you start publicizing your documentary. You want as many people to see your documentary as possible and the higher your profile, the more that will happen.”

  Nic reached for the bottle of wine and dashed some liquid into her empty glass. “You haven’t asked me about my documentary or inquired why it’s so important to me.”

  Brooks had thought about it, had wanted to commission a deep background check on her but stopped himself. For some strange and probably asinine reason, he wanted Nic to tell him herself, to open up to him when she felt comfortable to do so.

  “When you want to, you’ll tell me without coercion.”

  He wanted to get to know this woman who was going to become his wife. She fascinated him on levels he found disturbing.

  And if he had a choice, he’d probably run as far as he could from her, and this marriage. She made him think about what it would be like to marry, to have a smart and gorgeous woman as his life partner.

  And now he felt like he had a noose around his neck.

  * * *

  Teresa, feeling renewed after nine hours of sleep, walked into the open-plan living area dressed in an old boyfriend’s T-shirt. Stepping into her living room, she glanced out her living room window and looked down the street to the narrow view of Elliott Bay. The sun was out, the sky was blue and she swore that, if she opened her window, she’d hear birds chirping.

  It was amazing how much a beautiful day and nine hours of solid sleep could improve her mood.

  And, yeah, seeing Liam Christopher leaning against her kitchen counter, shirtless and with the top two buttons of his jeans open, revealing his sexy happy trail, was guaranteed to lift her mood even higher. Unnoticed by him, she leaned against the wall and waited for him to finish his call, perfectly happy to spend a couple of minutes checking him out.

  Messy hair, a three-day growth on his cheeks and chin and easing down his thick, strong neck. The muscles in his broad shoulders were well-defined and flowed into sexy biceps that were big and, well, bitable. A light dusting of black hair covered his upper chest and a fine trail of hair bisected his six-pack, another part of his body she loved to nibble. Teresa pouted at the jeans covering his long legs but she easily remembered the muscles in his thighs, his strong calves and yep, she even liked his bare feet.

  And that was the problem: she wasn’t only half in love with Liam Christopher—she liked him. Love would be easier to ignore if she wasn’t as attracted to his personality and his brain as she was to his body. God, why couldn’t they have met at a different time, been different people? What if she had just bumped into him at a coffee shop and they dated like normal people? Why did Linus have to lea
ve her shares in Christopher Corporation? Why did their pasts have to be so damn complicated?

  “I need you to dig as deeply into the past as you can. Don’t be scared to turn over rocks.”

  It took a minute for Liam’s words to sink in and she frowned. Who was he talking to and why would he need anyone to investigate his past? What was going on here? Peeling herself off the wall, Teresa continued walking to the kitchen and watched as he turned his head to observe her approach. His green eyes darted over her face, down her body, and her nipples puckered in response to his appreciative look. His eyes hovered on her breasts before sliding down her thighs and over her bare feet.

  “Oh, and can you suggest a reputable lab who can do genetic testing? I’m prepared to pay a premium for some rushed results.”

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  Liam ended his call and tossed his phone onto the kitchen table and then gripped the counter behind him. The action made his stomach ripple and his biceps flex. It also sent heat to her core and she felt the slow burn between her legs. Oh, God. How was she supposed to resist him looking so sexy, and a little sad?

  “Everything okay?” Teresa asked. She desperately wanted coffee but her coffee machine was behind Liam and if she came within a foot of him, she’d start begging him to do her on the floor.

  You are not going back to that make love, fight, break up circle again. Enough now.

  “Yes, no. Sort of.”

  Well, that was as clear as mud. Before Teresa could push him to explain, he spoke again. “You look much better this morning. You slept like the dead.”

  “And how would you know that?”

  Liam’s smile could heat up the sun. “Within two minutes of leaving your office you were out for the count. So I brought you here. I carried you from the car to your bed and you never woke up once.” His grin turned naughty. “And, God, you weigh a ton.”

  Since her doctor kept telling her that she could do with picking up a pound or two, Teresa didn’t react to his teasing. She just lifted her brows and tried to look haughty.

  “I undressed you, put you to bed and, after showering, crawled in after you.”

  “You could’ve gone home,” Teresa pointed out.

  Liam lifted one shoulder in an easy shrug. “I was tired and I like your place. I always have.”

  Teresa looked around her light-filled condo and nodded. She liked her place, too. It was filled with natural colors, comfy furniture and luscious plants. She could relax here, be herself. There weren’t many places she felt comfortable enough to shed her cool-as-a-cucumber persona, and this apartment, and her office, when she was alone, were probably the only two in existence. And Liam was the only person who’d ever seen her emotionally naked.

  And that made her feel vulnerable. And weak. And scared.

  And because she was feeling off-kilter, she lifted her nose in the air and put ice into her voice. “You do remember that I broke up with you, don’t you? That I told you I didn’t want to have anything to do with you, that we were unfixable?”

  “I do. But I’m ignoring you.”

  Teresa’s mouth dropped open at his insouciant reply. How dare he dismiss her feelings? And that reminded her. How dare he pick her up and lug her around like she was a bag of cement? “You can’t just ignore me and we need to address your caveman antics, as well.”

  Liam sent her a get-real look.

  “Seriously, Liam, this isn’t going to work. You and I, we don’t work. We make love, we think we might have a chance and—” Teresa made her hands explode, mimicking a bomb detonation “—boom! It all blows up. We try again, another explosion. We don’t talk, we don’t trust. I think life is trying to tell us that we aren’t supposed to be together.”

  Liam surprised her by nodding his agreement. “Maybe. But I’m thinking that it might be telling us to slow down, to take it easy.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s just been problem after problem with us, drama after drama. Maybe if we were better friends we wouldn’t be very volatile. Everything wouldn’t be such a production. We’d stick around instead of bolting.” Liam rubbed the back of his neck. “Because that’s our default reaction when things fall apart. We try and put distance between us and the problem.”

  “And you don’t trust me.”

  “I don’t trust anyone, Teresa. But I’m going to work on that,” Liam said, his voice somber. “And you have to accept that there are some things that can’t be fixed according to your timetable. Or at all.”

  Because a part of her still believed that her father didn’t fight hard enough to get back to his family when his visa expired, Teresa knew that she tended to go overboard in pushing for what she wanted. She simply never wanted to live with regrets, with “what if I’d done that” thoughts. And yes, because she couldn’t go back and understand her father’s inability to come home, and his subsequent death, she did try to fix situations and people.

  But trying to fix her and Liam was a lost cause. Even she knew that.

  Didn’t she?

  “We bolt, Teresa, when things don’t go our way or turn out the way we want them to. It’s a fault we both share.”

  They’d both been scarred by their pasts and it was second nature to protect themselves. And they both recognized that the other had the power to hurt, to scald and to scour. But how would being friends help, and how on earth would they manage to ignore the passion that always flared between them? They could barely be in the same room without wanting to attack zippers and buttons.

  God, she couldn’t have this conversation without coffee. Teresa walked over to the counter to stand next to him, pushing him to the side with a nudge from her shoulder. Her bare arm brushed the skin of his and heat flashed. Goose bumps also danced on her skin.

  Teresa threw up her hands in frustration. “That! That’s the problem right there! You touch me and I want to fall into your arms and kiss you stupid.”

  Teresa dropped her eyes to his crotch and she noticed his erection starting to swell, straining the fabric of his jeans. “And look! It’s not just me.”

  Liam groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “I will admit, it’s...inconvenient!”

  “It’s uncontrollable.” Teresa placed both her hands on his shoulder and pushed him to the edge of the counter. “Stand over there! And put a damn shirt on!”

  “Bossy,” Liam muttered, a small smile touching his lips.

  “You’re only figuring this out now?”

  Teresa turned her attention back to the coffee machine and darted a look at Liam’s back as he walked across her living room to the hallway and then, she presumed, to her bedroom where he’d left his shirt and shoes. He was gone but a minute and Teresa wished it were five, or ten. She needed to wrangle her libido, to get blood to her brain. Damn Liam Christopher for having this effect on her.

  Teresa watched coffee drip into her mug and considered putting her mouth to the spout to get some caffeine into her system. Hearing Liam’s footsteps, she turned around and he was fully dressed, thank God. But only looking slightly less sexy. She still wanted to jump him.

  “You can go now,” Teresa told him, waving toward her front door.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Liam said, walking over to her and filching her cup of coffee from under the spout.

  Teresa stared at him, thoughts of stabbing him between the eyes with a rusty fork dancing across her brain. “Do you want to die?”

  Liam sipped before handing her cup back to her. Teresa placed her lips where his had been and thought that she could taste him. She was losing it, it was official. Not bothering to add milk or sugar, she pulled out a chair and dropped into it as Liam reached for another mug on the shelf above her machine and tapped the side of his fist against the start button.

  “Let’s go back to what we were discussing.”


  Teresa groaned. “Let’s not.”

  Liam glanced at his half-full cup under the spout before picking up hers and taking another sip. Teresa growled but didn’t have the energy to argue. She was saving her strength for bigger battles. She could not allow Liam to persuade her to try again, to be drawn back into his life and his orbit. Yeah, the highs were fantastic but the lows had the ability to drop her to her knees. She’d walked away from him in Napa Valley and she needed to keep on walking.

  They were bad for each other...why wasn’t he seeing this?

  “Just go, Liam.”

  Instead of listening, Liam dropped into a chair and tapped his fingers against his coffee mug. “I want to apologize for not telling you that I hired an investigator to look into your life. He’s still digging and has been, for several weeks. I ordered him to find everything and anything.”

  Teresa immediately noticed that he was apologizing for not telling her, not apologizing for hiring the detective. “I told you that I would tell you anything you needed to know about me!”

  “The thing is... I don’t think you know what I need to know.”

  Say what? It was still too early to have such a convoluted conversation. Liam’s eyes darkened. “I can’t move on. I can’t go forward until I know why Linus left you those shares.”

  This again! “For the millionth time, I did not sleep with your father!”

  Liam held up his hand. “I know that, I do. But there has to be a reason why he left you the shares worth millions. I want to know what that reason is because I’m tired of living in darkness, constantly wondering and waiting for information. I’m done with it. I want to pull all the skeletons, dirty or not, out of the cupboard and damn well deal with them!”

  Teresa stared at him and saw the determination to find the truth in his eyes. Not sure what this meant, for him or them, she remained quiet.

  “I feel like we are trying to build something, you and I, on shaky ground. We need all the facts about everything.”

  “I told you about Joshua, about the debt that he owes,” Teresa responded. Didn’t he realize what a huge step that was for her?