Public Affair, Secretly Expecting

Colour flushed across Juno’s sternum as Daisy grasped Mac’s hand and led him down the aisle. Tucking her bottom lip under her teeth, she stifled the groan as she watched him approach. She must not let him intimidate her. She wasn’t the naÏve, inexperienced tomboy he’d kissed and made fun of two weeks ago. She was stronger now and much more sophisticated. Or, at least, she looked as if she were.

‘You’ll never guess who turned up after all,’ Daisy teased as they drew level. ‘Juno, I believe you’ve already met Connor’s brother, Mac.’

He’d cut his hair. The thick black locks, now militarily short, only showed the slightest tendency to curl around his ears. The new hairstyle, together with his clean-shaven jaw and the perfectly tailored dove-grey linen suit and pristine white shirt, should have made him look a lot less dangerous. They didn’t.

She lifted her chin. ‘Hello again, Mr Brody,’ she said succinctly, despite the butterflies now having a field day in her tummy.

‘Juno, is it?’ His gaze flicked down and her nipples peaked painfully against her push-up bra. ‘The name of a goddess,’ he murmured, the penetrating blue of his eyes as disturbing as she remembered. ‘It suits.’

The minister coughed loudly and Juno started, amazed she’d forgotten they still had Connor and Daisy’s wedding to finish.

Juno riveted all her attention on the bride and groom as they returned to their positions, struggling to ignore Mac’s alarming presence. The minister launched back into the wedding service and her fingers clenched in a death grip on the bouquet. How could she detect the light pine scent of his soap above the heavy fragrance of the bridal flowers? And what was he really doing here? Wasn’t this the man who’d flatly refused to come to the wedding only a couple of weeks ago?

After what could only have been a few minutes—but felt like several decades—the minister declared Daisy and Connor husband and wife. Sweeping his new bride into his arms, Connor executed a Valentino dip and silenced Daisy’s joyous laugh with an extravagantly sexy kiss. The lavish display of affection only made Juno more aware of the man standing behind her.

‘That looks like fun.’ The provocative whisper at her shoulder cut through the spontaneous round of hoots and cheers from the congregation. ‘How about you and me give it another shot?’

Juno stiffened as his breath feathered across her nape. How typical. While Daisy had found the man of her dreams, she was being tempted by the Devil incarnate.

Her head whipped round. ‘No, thank you,’ she said, struggling for composure. ‘Once was quite enough for me,’ she added caustically. But then her eyes dipped to his mouth completely of their own accord—and she could feel those firm, persuasive lips on hers even though they were standing a foot apart.

‘Once is never enough, Juno,’ he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue with the intimacy of a caress. She jerked her gaze to his to find those laser blue eyes twinkling with the promise of eternal damnation. ‘Especially for you and me.’

She turned her back on him, resisting the urge to hit him over the head with the bridal bouquet. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he had gatecrashed Daisy and Connor’s wedding just to bait her.

Connor released his wife at last and Daisy held her arms out to Juno. ‘I’m so happy, I think I might burst,’ she whispered into Juno’s ear as she gave her a hard hug.

Juno clung on tight, tears stinging her eyes again. ‘You’ve got the best man in the world,’ she murmured back. ‘And he almost deserves you.’

Connor’s hand settled on her shoulder and she released Daisy to see the brotherly affection in his face she’d come to depend on. ‘Now don’t go mad there,’ he said, drawing her into his arms. ‘I might get the idea you like me.’

‘Let’s not get carried away,’ she teased, enjoying the easy camaraderie that had built between them in the past year as she hugged him back.

Connor chuckled as he released her. ‘As if I’d dare.’

He reached over her shoulder and she turned to see his hand clasp Mac’s. ‘It’s good to have you here, Mac. It’s been too long.’ Connor’s voice thickened. ‘Way too long.’

Mac let go of the handshake first. ‘Yeah,’ he said flatly.

‘You’ll come to the reception?’ Connor asked, sounding unsure. ‘Daisy and I want you to meet Ronan, our son. You’d be his uncle, after all.’

Mac’s jaw tensed, a cautious, shuttered expression on his face. ‘Sure, wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he said after a long pause, but the reply sounded apathetic at best.

An uneasy feeling bloomed in the pit of Juno’s stomach, doing nothing to calm the dive-bombing butterflies. She recognised that frigid, closed-off tone; he’d sounded the same when he’d told her he didn’t have a brother.

Daisy stepped up to Mac and grasped his hand in both of hers. ‘You have no idea how much this means to us, Mac,’ she said, the unguarded happiness in her voice making Juno’s stomach start to hurt. ‘All that matters right now is that you’re here.’ She grinned. ‘And that you’ve brought an appetite. We have enough fancy French cuisine to feed an army back at the chÂteau, so you’re going to have to consume your fair share.’

‘I’m sure I can choke down a bit,’ he replied.

‘Connor and I have to get back to greet the other guests.’ She winked at Juno. ‘So I’ll leave you in Juno’s capable hands. She can introduce you around and show you how to get there.’

No, she won’t.

Juno shot Daisy a horrified look. But as she racked her brain for a suitable excuse Daisy lifted the bridal bouquet out of her arms and whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t be such a wuss. I’m sure he won’t bite.’ She stifled a delighted laugh. ‘Or not yet anyway.’

And with that Connor and Daisy were gone, swallowed up by the crowd of well-wishers as they strolled down the aisle and out into the early evening sunshine as man and wife.

Juno folded her arms across her waist. She loved the dress Daisy had designed for her, but she suddenly felt naked in it. ‘It’s only about a ten-minute drive to the chÂteau,’ she said, not able to meet Mac’s eyes. ‘I can introduce you to most of the people here and then give you directions.’

He snagged her arm as she made to leave. ‘I’ll skip the introductions.’ His thumb caressed the inside of her elbow, making her pulse jump. ‘And I only take directions on set, so I think you’d best show me where it is.’ His dark brows lifted, matching the mocking smile on his lips. ‘You wouldn’t want me to get lost, now, would you?’

I should be so lucky, she thought—her pulse pounding where his thumb stroked. ‘Perish the thought,’ she said, unable to keep the bite of sarcasm at bay.

He laughed, taking her arm and folding it through his. The fluid movement anchored her to his side—and offered virtually no protection against the muscled strength beneath the tailored linen.

‘That’s the spirit, darlin’.’ He chuckled, the subtle scent of his soap overwhelming as he guided her down the aisle.

She should have pulled away, but she didn’t want to let him know how much his nearness affected her. So she concentrated on remembering to breathe and making sure she didn’t fall flat on her face in her new heels.

‘I’ve not eaten all day and I’m half starved,’ he said casually. Too casually.

She couldn’t control the tremble of response. Why did she get the impression Daisy and Connor’s lavish reception buffet wasn’t the only thing he intended to devour?

The soft summer light gave the evening a golden glow as Mac’s flashy sports car turned into the chÂteau’s driveway behind a queue of other cars. Looking through the thicket of oak trees, Juno glimpsed the baroque French castle standing proud at the brow of the hill. Flowering vines hugged the turrets and balconies and accented a trio of tiered terraces linked by a sweeping staircase. As the powerful car inched closer the main terrace and the ballroom beyond came into view, the throng of guests being served by an army of blackclad waiters brandishing trays of canapÉs and champagne.

Not for the first time that day, Juno thought of palaces and princes and long-ago pageantry. Daisy and Connor had turned their wedding day into a magical event. She bit back the wistful sigh. Enough with the daydreaming. It definitely was not appropriate in her current circumstances.

She glanced across at the man beside her. In the twenty minutes it had taken them to get from the church to the reception, Mac Brody had been surprisingly subdued. There had been none of the teasing or taunts she’d expected. Probably because he’d been swamped by a crowd of people as soon as Daisy and Connor’s carriage had been waved out of sight.

She’d had no idea he was so famous! She rarely went to the cinema—never having had much time for make-believe—and she didn’t read the gossip mags either.

But more surprising than all the attention had been the way he’d reacted to it. He’d been patient and charming and remarkably gracious about all the requests for autographs and snapshots, but she’d still sensed how uncomfortable he was. Making her wonder what had become of the big bad movie star who had kissed her with such arrogance at Heathrow.

The tension had eased out of his shoulders once he’d ushered her into his sleek little rented Porsche. But as soon as the chÂteau had appeared across the valley his hands had fisted on the steering wheel. As if he were bracing himself for what lay ahead.

Why had he decided to come if this evening was going to be such an ordeal?

Juno’s pulse skittered as he reversed the car into a small space under one of the leafy oak trees. Perversely, the glimpse of vulnerability behind his super-confident faÇade had given her own confidence a nice little boost.

He wrenched up the handbrake. ‘We’ll have to walk it from here.’ His lips tilted as his gaze shifted to her feet. ‘You think you can handle all the pebbles in those shoes?’

He was probably used to women who could run a marathon in high heels, but the comment sounded amused not disparaging so she smiled back. ‘I should be able to manage twenty yards. If not I’ll take them off. You’ll have to promise not to tell Daisy though.’

‘Why’s that now?’ he asked, his deep Irish voice shimmering across her bare skin.

‘Daisy designed my maid of honour gown. It makes a statement, apparently, which includes the high heels. Without them she’ll accuse me of ruining the effect or something.’ The babble of information petered into silence. Why had she drawn attention to the frock? It was as if she were fishing for a compliment. Which she definitely wasn’t.

His eyes drifted over her figure and her heart skidded to a stop. ‘Daisy’s mighty talented,’ he said as his gaze met hers. ‘You look gorgeous.’

Heat pumped into her cheeks and her heart began beating double time as the impact of the softly growled compliment sizzled right down to her toes.

Way to go, Juno. Now you feel like you’re stark naked again.

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