His oldest brother, Matthew, broke away and started speaking with one of the reporters, diverting their attention by offering up a couple of sound bites. Apparently an interview with a U.S. senator trumped snagging more photos of a surprise wedding.
Kyle smiled. Thanks, bro.
He focused his attention forward, intent on getting Phoebe and Nina home. Anticipation ramped inside him. For the first time since Phoebe Slater had blasted into his world, he had control of his life.
Nina’s future would be secure.
And for however long this marriage lasted, he and Phoebe could have one hell of a totally legal affair. No worries about emotional entanglements for either of them.
He stopped in front of the private side elevator designated for employees and special guests. He jabbed the button just as the door slid open to reveal one person already inside.
Damn.
A leggy redhead in her twenties blinked in wide-eyed surprise. Then smiled with recognition.
The timing couldn’t have been worse to run into one of his exes. The judge’s daughter. The one he’d dated briefly in the past.
Leslie? No. Lucy took the bouquet from him. “Okay, Kyle Landis, you’re officially forgiven.” She lifted the flowers to her nose and inhaled deeply, thrusting her br**sts out none too subtly. “These are just gorgeous, you charmer. Calla lilies and roses, no less. I didn’t know you were so romantic.”
Phoebe bristled visibly beside him, stepping away from his palm at her waist. He needed to implement damage control before some reporter with a telephoto lens and great hearing put together a new headline.
He rushed Phoebe and Nina into the elevator with Lucy and pushed the Close button. “Uh, Lucy, I’d like for you to meet—”
Lucy laughed, talking right over him. “I was just going to leave you an ‘eat dirt and die, you scumbag’ message, but since you’ve apologized so nicely with flowers,” she lifted the bouquet to her nose briefly, “I’ll forgive you for breaking my heart.”
Five
Stuck in the elevator with Kyle, most of his family and a towering redhead holding Phoebe’s bouquet, she mentally thumped herself for being so gullible. Bianca had warned her of Kyle’s ladies’-man past, damn it.Phoebe resisted the urge to back into a corner. Pride starched her spine. Pride, and a need to carry this off for Nina’s sake.
He braced his shoulders, his uniform stretching over his chest. “Phoebe, this is a friend of the family, Lucy Cooper. Lucy, this is my wife, Phoebe.” He gestured to his daughter and said simply, “And this is Nina.”
The bubbly redhead turned…well, as red as her hair. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, and Phoebe actually felt sorry for the woman.
Lucy’s eyes dropped down to the flowers in her hand. Her mouth went tight. “I guess these must be yours. My mistake.” She thrust the bouquet toward Phoebe. “Congratulations. And good luck.”
There was no missing the sarcasm coating her words more thickly than her cloying cologne soaked the enclosed space in the elevator. Phoebe couldn’t bring herself to be angry at the woman for spoiling the day. She’d found out firsthand today how quickly a single kiss from Kyle Landis could persuade a woman to ignore warning signs.
The elevator doors swooshed open again blessedly soon and Lucy didn’t even offer a good-bye before making tracks out into the back hall, toward a glowing exit sign.
Jonah inched forward, scratched his head. “At least she didn’t ask about the kid.”
Sebastian coughed into his hand. Or laughed. But Phoebe wasn’t feeling the love. She couldn’t avoid Kyle—they were married, after all.
However she could damn well resist his charming smile. “Kyle, I’ve changed my mind about dinner. I don’t think I’m in much of a beach mood anymore.”
Seven hours later, Phoebe dropped back onto her bed in the guest suite with an exhausted—exasperated—huff. At least she’d made it through the large family dinner, even if she hadn’t been able to bring herself to eat much. Tempting thoughts of how they could have spent the evening tormented her. Images of lazing the hours away together on the beach, getting to know each other. After the Lucy debacle, he hadn’t bothered bringing up cozy meals together.
She rolled onto her stomach and picked at the white piping around the dusky-rose-colored pillow sham.
Just a family friend.
How clichéd.
It was obvious Lucy had expected more out of Kyle, from the way she’d gushed all over the flowers. Phoebe’s flowers, now discarded on the other pillow. She plucked a rosebud from the bouquet, releasing a fresh whiff of the fragrant perfume.
Stroking the bloom along her mouth, she glanced through the open side door to the connected sitting area Ginger had converted into a permanent nursery just for Nina. All that trouble and money, as if she and Nina would be staying here, made her nervous.
At least the local judge had been able to connect with a Columbia judge and they’d worked out an agreement granting temporary custody to Kyle and Phoebe Landis. Even thinking of her new last name made her shiver. She’d been Phoebe Slater since she’d married Roger. She’d kept his name even after he’d died. Before that, she’d been Phoebe Campbell. Phoebe Campbell wouldn’t have been able to make things move so quickly, either, and right now she couldn’t bring herself to resent the Landises for their privileged ways when it kept Nina secure.
The rest of the day had been a blur after leaving the courthouse. Ginger had had a meal ready back at the house, and neither Kyle nor Phoebe had asked to be alone.
It shouldn’t matter that Kyle was a flirt with a vast dating history. She didn’t intend to stay married to him. She only cared because of Nina, damn it, and didn’t want a constant parade of countless women marching in and out of Kyle’s life. Phoebe swung her feet off the edge of the bed and padded across the hardwood floor to Nina’s new nursery, so much nicer than the little dressing-room nook back at Phoebe’s apartment and more personal than the luxurious green nursery down the hall for visiting Landis and Renshaw grandkids.
Nina wasn’t a visitor anymore.
Did she miss her tiny space back in the apartment? Phoebe had poured her heart into creating the little garden haven, complete with painted puckish fairies that reminded her of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
This space was tastefully decorated in pinks and browns to coordinate with the already rose-colored walls. Little ballet-shoe accents rounded out the decor. Without a doubt, the Landises had more to offer Nina financially. But what about love?
Her fingers tensed along the cherrywood crib railing. Losing her husband had taught Phoebe too well how priceless and precious—and fragile—love could be. All this money wouldn’t mean anything to Nina if she wasn’t wrapped in affection, as well.
Ginger Landis Renshaw might be a loving grandmother, but she’d given no indication she intended to be anything other than a grandparent. And Kyle? Phoebe had definite questions and concerns about his ability to take care of Nina, if he even wanted to beyond some sense of appearances. She took her responsibility to Nina seriously.
The room darkened and she glanced up to find Kyle standing in the opening as if conjured from her thoughts. He’d changed from his suit into well-fitting jeans and a white button-down shirt with a South Carolina palmetto tree stitched on the pocket. His rolled-up sleeves exposed tanned forearms sprinkled with dark hair. Masculine arms. Even out of uniform, he made her mouth dry right up with want.
She tore her gaze away from him and gestured around the transformed sitting area. “This is lovely. The little ballet shoes are precious. Your mother and Marianna went to a lot of trouble to create this space just for Nina, when there’s already a nursery here in the house.”
“Marianna’s an interior decorator. In fact, she decorated the whole house.”
“She obviously knows her way around little-girl fashions.” She trailed a finger along the tiny pink-satin slippers hanging from the wall over a mirror. “Did you need something?”
“I noticed you didn’t eat much at supper. I’ve brought you food.”
She thought of earlier, when they’d planned a picnic on the beach and considered a polite no thanks, but she was hungry. She simply needed to keep her guard in place. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”
“I promised you a meal and I keep my promises.” He nodded his head for her to follow him. “Let’s step out onto the porch off of your room. The food is set up there so you can hear Nina if she needs you, but we won’t wake her by talking.”
He turned without waiting for her to answer, a man used to people following his orders, damn his broad shoulders and perfect butt. Need crackled to life inside her again with a reminder of just how much he’d moved her with one quick kiss. And she had gone so long without more than just kisses.
Stay strong. She needed to keep things simple between the two of them. Complications could spell big trouble down the line when it came time to say their farewells.
He swung the double French doors wide, out onto the veranda. “Prepare to feast.”
Phoebe blinked in surprise, stopping short of the wrought iron table set with linen, silver, roses and the warm glow of a candle protected from the ocean wind by a hurricane globe. A wooden rail surrounded the balcony, the waves rolling hypnotically only a staircase away. Her dress from the wedding swirled around her legs in sensual swipes.
“This is so much more than I expected.” She peeked under a polished cover and found a steak and lobster dinner, the scent of warm melted butter steaming lightly upward. “Much more.”
The table was set so beautifully she’d expected some dainty, tiny offerings, and while the food was still decoratively presented, she was surprised at the hearty portions.
Kyle held out her chair. “I thought you might be hungry.”
She edged past him to take her seat, her shoulder brushing him briefly before she settled into the chair. His forearms skimmed her side as he tucked her under the table, the crisp tanginess of his cologne drifting on the breeze and more enticing than any finely cooked fare.
She had to fight off the sudden urge to tip her head back against his shoulder, to revisit the taste of his mouth on hers…
“I am hungry.” Ravenously so, suddenly.
Well, if she couldn’t feed her senses the way her body craved, at least she could enjoy this meal. She draped a linen napkin across her lap, eyeing the cup of creamy crab soup.
Kyle motioned toward two wine bottles in silver ice buckets. “Would you prefer chardonnay or merlot?” He smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to get you soused and press for my marital ‘rights.’ The cook just wasn’t sure which kind of wine we would prefer with a surf-and-turf meal.”
Marital rights.
The words brought to mind an image of the two of them tangled in Kyle’s sheets, taking the attraction to a heated conclusion. Blinking back the thought, she spooned up a taste of the creamy soup instead—and held back her moan of appreciation. Then again, maybe she’d just needed an excuse to release the tension inside her at the thought of a physical relationship with the man seated across from her.