Lone Star Lovers

“I’m going to make your life miserable, Zachary Ferguson. You just wait.”

“Too late.” He gave a subtle nod to the beefcake guard who circled Yvonne’s upper arm in his firm grip as he warned her against fighting him.

To her credit, she didn’t struggle. But neither did she go willingly. Yvonne’s eyes sliced over to Penelope. “Who is this? Are you cheating on me?”

Here they went again. Yvonne had asked that question so many times in the two days they were married, Zach would swear she’d gone to bed sane and woken crazy.

He’d had the good sense to get out of the marriage, which was more than he could say for the sense he’d had going in. The details were fuzzy: Vegas, Elvis, the Chapel of Love, etcetera, etcetera... Getting married had seemed fun at the time, but spontaneity had its downfalls. Within twenty-four hours Yvonne had grown horns and a forked tongue.

“Make it two million dollars,” Yvonne hissed, illustrating his point. The guard tugged her back a step, looking inconvenienced when she fought him.

Zach had money—plenty of it—but relinquishing it to the crazed redhead wasn’t going to make her go away. If anything, she’d be back for more later.

“Get her out of here,” Zach said smoothly, putting his hand over Pen’s. “She’s upsetting my fiancée.”

“Your what?” Yvonne asked at the same time Penelope stiffened at his side.

“Penelope Brand, my fiancée. Yvonne, uh...” What was her maiden name? “Yvonne, my ex-wife.” Yvonne’s eyes burned with anger—flames Zach was only too happy to fan. “Penelope and I are engaged to be married. It’s real, unlike what you and I had. You can contact my lawyers with any further questions.”

Yvonne shrieked like the eels from The Princess Bride as security dragged her away.

Another security detail, this one slimmer but no less mean-looking, stepped in front of Zach.

“How the hell did she get in here?”

His eyes dipped to his shoes in chagrin before meeting Zach’s angry expression again. “We’ll call the police department, sir.”

“No, don’t. She’s exuberant, but harmless.” He took a breath. Who wanted to deal with the paperwork?

“Very well.” Security Guy Number Two followed in the path of the beefy guy.

Chase took his place, using his extra two inches of height to scowl down at Zach. “Let me get this straight,” his brother said in that exaggerated calm way he had about him. “You’re engaged...and married?”

“Was married.”

“You didn’t tell me you were married.”

“Well, it only lasted forty-four hours.”

“And you—” Chase’s hawk-like gaze snapped away from Zach to lock on Penelope “—didn’t tell me you were engaged to my brother.”

“I—” Pen started.

“It’s not true.” Zach couldn’t bullshit a bullshitter, and his brother was in politics, so he was overqualified. “I wanted to refocus Yvonne’s attention.”

He would come clean with Chase, even though he’d been left out of the loop where Stefanie was concerned. Zach had known Stef was having some issues but he didn’t realize his brother had called in the cavalry in the form of Penelope’s PR services.

“You succeeded,” Chase said. He smiled amiably at Penelope. “Looks like you’ve secured your next client, Ms. Brand. I trust you can clean up my brother’s mess.”

A few truncated sounds that might have been Pen struggling for breath came from her throat, but she reined in her simmering argument to say, “Yes. Of course.”

“Excellent.” Chase lifted his voice to address the guests milling around the bar. “If everyone would find your seats in the dining room, dinner will be served shortly.” He turned his attention back to Zach and Penelope. “I assume you two would prefer to sit together.”

Zach simply smiled as he looked down at a wide-eyed Penelope. This evening had fun written all over it. “I wouldn’t allow my fiancée to sit with anyone else.”

Three

Penelope strolled into the oversize ballroom on Zach’s arm. The mansion boasted enough round tables and slipcovered chairs to seat the mayor’s one-hundred-plus guests. Similar to a wedding, there was a head table for the guests of honor. In this case those guests were Mayor Chase Ferguson, Stefanie Ferguson, Zach and the recent addition of Penelope.

The rectangular table was set apart from the others and dotted with votive candles and low vases with flower arrangements.

A few staff members from the mayor’s office were also seated at the head table. A plucky, talkative woman named Barb, Roger, who looked and acted the part of secret service, and a scowling, large-framed man named Emmett Keaton.

Emmett, who had been introduced as the mayor’s “friend and confidant,” had short, cropped hair, a healthy dash of stubble on his face and eyed Stefanie with disdain the entire time he ate his pear and Gorgonzola salad. Stefanie had glared at him from her spot across the table before rolling her eyes and drinking down her white wine.

Clearly there was no love lost between those two.

Penelope wasn’t surprised. Stefanie’s recent scrape had drawn attention to the Ferguson family—and not the good kind. It would make sense that she wasn’t favored among the mayor’s staff.

Speaking of scrapes, Pen now had another to deal with in the form of Zach’s ex-wife. Pen didn’t know what shocked her more—that Zach had married the unhinged woman, or that he’d been married at all. It might be a tie.

Zach wasn’t the marrying type. He was the one-night-stand type. Or so Pen had thought.

Slicing into the sun-dried-tomato-crusted rack of lamb on her plate, she kept her voice low and asked Zach the million-dollar question.

“Were you married when we slept together two weeks ago?”

His jaw paused midchew before he continued, smiling with his mouth shut, and then swallowed down the bite. He swept his tongue over his teeth and took a drink of water before responding. Pen didn’t mind the delay. The lamb was spectacular. She sliced off another petite bite, this time plunging it into the ramekin of balsamic dipping sauce first.

“No,” he finally said.

She patted her lips with her napkin. “When did it happen?”

“Last New Year’s Eve.” He glanced around the table, but no one was paying them any attention. Barb was chattering to Stefanie, and Emmett and Chase were having a low conversation of their own. Roger wasn’t at the table any longer. When had he left? He was sneaky, but then—secret service, so it made sense.

“In Vegas,” Zach finished.

Pen laughed, drawing Emmett’s and Chase’s attention before they returned to their conversation. “Cliché, Zach.”

“Yeah, as was the annulment.”

“And the need for our betrothal?”

Zach shrugged muscular, tux-covered shoulders. “You helped Stef. You’re a good ally to have.”

“You could have introduced me as an adviser. As anyone.”

He stabbed a bite of meat with his fork and waved it as he said, “Fiancée had a nice ring to it.”

“Very funny.” Fiancée. Ring. At least his personality was the same as the night she’d invited him home with her. He’d been cheeky then, too.

She smiled, glued her eyes to his and enjoyed the sizzling heat in the scant space between them for the next three heartbeats. Then she focused on her food again.

Once the dinner dishes were cleared, dessert appeared in the form of a dark chocolate tart, a single, perfect raspberry interrupting a decadent white-chocolate drizzle.

“Speech time,” Zach prompted his brother.

“Go get ’em, Tiger,” Stefanie said, clearly teasing him.

Chase stood and buttoned his suit jacket, then glided to the podium. From her side of the table, Pen wouldn’t have to so much as turn her head to watch. Unlike everyone else who had swiveled in their chairs.

Chase had great presence. Elegant. Regal. He talked and the world quieted to listen. She remembered the first time she’d seen him on television and thought—

A gasp stole her throat when warm fingers landed on her knee.

Zach.

Barb looked over her shoulder and offered a wide smile. Pen gave the other woman a tight nod as she reached beneath the table and removed Zach’s wandering hand.

Pen cleared her throat and refocused on Chase’s speech when Zach’s fingers returned. This time she managed to stifle the surprised bleat in her throat. She slanted a glare to her right where he lounged, elbow resting on the arm of his chair, his fingers pressed to his lips and his eyes narrowed as if hanging on to every word his brother said.

With the fingers of Zach’s other hand swirling circles on the inside of her knee, Pen couldn’t concentrate on a single word of the speech. A quick glance around confirmed that no one could see what was happening beneath the tablecloth.

She shifted in her seat, but before she could crush his fingers between her kneecaps, he gripped her leg with a tight hold. She swallowed down a ball of thick lust as he pushed her legs apart.

Pen flattened her hands on the tablecloth as Zach’s hand traveled from her knee and climbed the inside of her thigh. She closed her eyes, visions of the night they’d spent together flashing on the screen of her mind.

His firm, insistent kisses on her jaw, her neck and lower.

The deep timbre of his laugh when she’d struggled with his belt.

He’d ended up stripping for her while she sat on her bed and watched every tantalizing second.

She was snapped to the present when Zach’s fingertips dug into the soft skin of her thigh, and without warning, brushed her silk panties. Pen fisted one hand on the tablecloth, dragging her dessert plate to the edge of the table. Her glass of red gave a dangerous wobble.

She held her breath when he touched her intimately again, the scrap of silk going damp against his pressing fingers. When he pulled her panties aside and brushed bare skin, Pen bit down on her bottom lip to contain a whimper.

Then the mayor’s voice crashed into her psyche.

“To Penelope and my brother, Zach. Many congratulations on your engagement.”

She jerked ramrod straight to find every set of eyes in the room on her and glasses raised.

“Cheers,” Chase said into the microphone.

Stiff as a cadaver, Pen managed a frozen smile. Conversely, Zach moved like a sunbathing cat, lazily tossing his napkin on the table before taking Pen’s napkin from her lap and standing.

He offered his hand and a smirk, and Pen prayed that the flush of her cheeks would be taken for embarrassment at the attention.

Placing her palm in his, she surreptitiously tugged her skirt down and stood with him to accept the room’s applause.

Smooth as butter, Zach pushed her dessert plate from its perch at the edge of the table, handed Pen her wineglass and lifted his own.

Then, they drank to their engagement.

* * *

“I like this.” Zach touched the F dangling from Pen’s bracelet with his thumb. “Makes me feel possessive.”

Her hand in his, Pen swayed to the music.

He liked her hand in his. He liked her laugh and the sweet scent of her perfume tickling his senses. He liked the way she smoothly handled Barb’s question about a missing engagement ring.

Where is your diamond ring, darling?

Oh, we didn’t want to upstage the mayor on his big day.

Pen was the right partner to choose for this particular snafu. She was a woman at the top of her game. Touching her under the table and listening as her breaths shortened and tightened was a bonus.

“What are you grinning about?” she asked him now.

“I think you know.”

She hummed, not confirming or denying. Like he said, top of her game.

He turned her to the beat of the music, pressing his palm flat on her back and drawing her closer. She came rather than resist him, which he liked a whole hell of a lot.

“It’s kind of your brother to give first-time guests such decadent gifts,” she commented, redirecting his attention back to the bracelet. She waggled their joined hands so the pendant moved against her pale skin.

“You think that’s what this is for?” Zach joked as he clucked his tongue. “You don’t know the underground Chase Ferguson birthday secret.”

Her eyes widened slightly and he didn’t say more. Finally, she broke. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

“Depends.” He leaned in, his whisper conspiratorial. “Are you into multiple sex partners?”

“Zach!” she quietly scolded. A second later her lips parted in a laugh that warmed the very center of his chest. She took her hand from his shoulder to playfully shove his chest. If he wasn’t mistaken, she lingered a bit over his pectoral before resting her hand on his shoulder once again. “You’re impossible.”

He hovered just over her lips, testing her. “You’re wearing the first letter of my last name, Pen. That means you’re mine.”

Blue eyes turned up to his and for a second he thought she might give him the gift of saying, Show me to your room. She hadn’t been the least bit shy the night she’d invited him home with her.

Instead those blues rolled skyward and she hedged with, “Caveman.”

But she’d given him an inch not arguing that she was his.

“What really happens next?” she asked. The crowd was thinning. Only a few couples danced, while others ringed the bar or sat with their coffees at the cleared tables.

“Things wind down. Cigars are smoked. Bourbon poured. Stef and I have rooms here so we usually stay the night.”

“Well, make sure you tell me when it’s the proper time to leave. I don’t want to overstay my welcome on my maiden voyage to the mayor’s birthday party.”

“How about you don’t leave?”

She’d been looking around the room, but now snapped her attention back to him. “What?”

“You heard me. Don’t leave. Stay in my room. With me.” He pulled her closer, resting his cheek on hers as he spoke into the delicate shell of her ear. “Spend the night in my bed, Penelope. You won’t regret it.”

Her hand tightened in his. “I—I can’t. It’s...inappropriate.”

He pulled his face away from hers to find she looked as flustered as she sounded. Her eyes bounced from his face to his chest. Her steps faltered.

Zach dropped the pretense of dancing, and cradled her gorgeous face in both hands. “It’s not only appropriate. It’s expected. To this room of people, you’re my future wife. I would never let my fiancée drive home alone this late.”

A small smile found her face. “My God. You really are a caveman.”

“Aw, honey,” he said with a wink as he laced his fingers with hers. “But I’m your caveman.”

Her silken laughter as he led them to the bar was a good sign she’d join him upstairs when the night wound to a close. Zach wasn’t ready to draw the curtain on their evening yet, but he was anticipating getting her alone again. He’d give her the best night of her life.

Well, assuming the last night they’d spent together could be topped.

It was a challenge he embraced.

Four

“We’re turning in. Happy birthday.” Zach offered his brother a hand and Chase shook it, which Penelope found charming though formal. She wondered if those two had ever wrestled or punched each other in the face when growing up, and then figured they probably had. It wasn’t hard to imagine rough and tumble boys beneath their polished exteriors.

“Penelope, make yourself at home,” Chase told her. “My staff will get you whatever you need.”

“I’ll get her what she needs,” Zach said, taking her hand in his. “She’s my fiancée.”

At his offered wink, Pen let herself smile. Zach was a lot of things—more than she knew before she learned he was Chase Ferguson’s brother—but among his top qualities, Zach was fun. Now that Pen had taken him on, she was breaking her cardinal rule of not sleeping with a client. She’d break it this time—if only for him. He made rule-breaking downright delicious. He focused her attention on the present. Which was the exact reason she’d invited him home that night at the club.

An inkling of warning that her ex had cost her everything vibrated at the back of her skull, but the champagne bubbles swimming in her tummy drowned it out.

Her situation with Zach was totally different. The fake fiancée act was a ruse, true, but she couldn’t see a reason not to take advantage of another night with him. He’d been working that angle since he touched her under the table tonight.

Hand in hand they passed by Stefanie, who pushed her lip into an exaggerated pout. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were engaged to this idiot.” Stef shot a thumb toward Zach.

“Your secret-keeping skills are dubious,” he grumbled.

They’d opted not to share the truth with Stefanie—Chase’s idea. He thought it was better if she was in the dark like everyone else.

“You have a lot of secrets lately.” Stef eyed Zach, her mouth pulling at the corners.

“So do you,” he said. “I had no idea you were working with my beautiful fiancée on a cover-up.”

“It wasn’t a cover-up,” Pen interjected before these two sniped away her good mood. “We simply rerouted the public’s attention.”

“Thank you for that.” Stefanie gripped Pen’s arm and squeezed. “In all seriousness, I’m happy for you two.”

“Thanks, sis,” Zach said as a wave of guilt crashed over Penelope. She didn’t mind contorting public opinion but lying to Zach’s sister felt...wrong.

“I’m not staying here tonight,” Stef told them. “I have a date with another of my brother’s mortal enemies.”

Zach’s shoulders went rigid, a wave of heat emanating from his form.

“Just kidding!” Stef’s grin was wide. She bid them good-night and Pen stroked her hand up Zach’s tuxedo jacket to soothe him.

“Down, boy.”

His eyes snapped over to her, the heat there transforming from anger to lust—which was even more sinister.

“Boy?” Zach startled Pen by bending at the knees to lift her into his arms. The few guests left milling about reacted with gasps or soft laughs. Pen, eyes wide, held on to him, her fingers entwining in the thick blond hair at the back of his neck.

“Sounds like you need a reminder from the man who shared your bed a few weeks back.”

His confident smile, strong arms and twinkling green eyes consumed her. She bit down on her lip and remembered all too well the details of that night. Nevertheless, she said, “I could, now that you mention it.”

A smile spread his full lips.

Fake fiancée or not, for her, the attraction part of their relationship was very real. Penelope was going to take advantage of every exciting, promising part of it.

* * *

She barely had a moment to take in her surroundings when Zach’s muscular chest was flush with her back. He swept her hair off her neck and put his lips over her pounding pulse.

“I don’t have an overnight bag,” she breathed, tilting her head to give him better access.

His tongue covered her earlobe before he tugged with his teeth. Goose bumps rose on her skin and she reached up to palm the back of his head.

His mouth was as intoxicating as any liquor, but a thousand times more potent.

“I’ll at least need—” a gasp stole her words as his hand coasted from her waist to the sides of her breasts, teasing her “—a toothbrush,” she finished.

He replied to her complaint by sliding warm fingers over her bare back, then snicking the zipper of her dress down over her backside.

“Gorgeous. Damn, Pen. I love your ass.”

“Likewise.” She managed a breathy laugh and turned in his arms. The way he looked at her made her feel gorgeous. Like she was the only one he wanted in this world.

His fingers pushed into her hair and he cupped the back of her neck, pegging her with a serious green stare. “Tell me the truth.”

“About?” She raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

“Have you thought of me in the past few weeks?”

“Yes.”

Zach’s palm warmed her neck and shifted upward until he cradled the back of her skull. He dipped his head but didn’t kiss her, continuing his interrogation.

“Tell me what you thought about, Penelope Brand.” His dimple dented one cheek when he offered a lopsided smile. “In graphic detail.”

It was a smile she couldn’t help returning. Her hands fisting the material of his shirt, she yanked it from his pants and stroked her hands along his hot, golden skin.

“You first,” she whispered a hairsbreadth away from his lips.

She’d meant to be cute, but Zach’s smile vanished. His other hand went to her back and, pressing her until her breasts flattened against his chest, he answered her.

“Every morning since I walked out of your apartment, I wake up hard and ready. The woman in my head missing her clothes has blond hair, pale blue eyes and your name.”

His pupils dilated, the black darkening his surrounding green irises. “Your turn.”

She remembered lots of things. The way he moved over her, the way he filled her, consumed her, during their lovemaking. But mostly the way he laughed and made her life fun for that slice of time.

He made her forget her obligations or the fact that she’d once let a man trample over her business and her good sense. Zach made her feel beautiful and cherished and hot. Really freaking hot.

“I remember,” she started, tugging at his black leather belt, “your face when you came.” She unfastened his pants and slipped her hand inside, gliding her palm along the thick ridge of his erection.

Zach’s nostrils flared, his hands rerouting to her hips and digging in for purchase.

“You looked a lot like you do right now.” She massaged his manhood, tipping her chin to swipe her tongue along his bottom lip. That lip tasted like she remembered—warm and firm and laced with desire. “In control but in danger of losing it.”

She’d meant to spur him on. He didn’t disappoint.

He reached for the skirt of her dress and peeled it past her hips and stomach and over her head. He tossed it inside out to the floor.

“I’m in no danger of losing control, Ms. Brand,” Zach informed her, his lazy Texas drawl intensifying. “But you are.”

Her white lace bra was the next article of clothing to get the heave-ho. He disarmed the strap so quickly that in a blink both her breasts were bare, her nipples standing up, begging for his attention.

Attention they got.

Zach’s arms looped her back and Pen had to move both hands to his shoulders when he dropped his mouth to sample a breast. His tongue swirled and suckled and she let her head fall back, losing herself in the moment. That was what he did to her—made her live in the right now and not beyond.

Who could resist?

He backed her across the room and she went, turning to take in the bed they were about to make very good use of. The regal four-poster frame reached for the ceiling above a pile of gold-and-maroon bedding and pillows fit for royalty.

Thighs against hers, Zach walked her two steps until her butt collided with the mattress. She sat, eyes tipped to his. He stood looking down at her, shirt untucked, pants open, eyes aflame.

“Damn, I don’t know what to do first.”

“I do.” Pen reached for his cock again but Zach snatched her hand.

“Not that.” His smirk was confident when he hooked his fingers into her panties and swept them off her legs. At her ankles, he paused, watching her as he tossed one of her tall shoes over his shoulder, then the other. The scrap of silk went next. With a tip of his chin, he said, “Scoot.”

She did, naked and so excited she wondered if he could see the shake in her arms as she settled herself on the middle of the bed.

He unbuttoned his tuxedo shirt, his eyes taking inventory of her like she was his next meal. Shirt discarded, he pushed his pants and briefs to his ankles, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process.

Penelope had to struggle not to drool.

Zach’s lean, muscular chest was as mouthwatering as in her memory, the scant bit of chest hair whirling around two flat brown nipples. His erection jutted proudly between slim hips, which gave way to thick thighs. She realized she’d become lost staring at his body and quickly jerked her attention to his face.