Seducing His Secret Wife--A brother's best friend romance Page 12

  “What about me?” Nana Orla asked, a hand placed on her hip while she made the what-am-I-chopped-liver gesture with her free hand. “I didn’t spend three hours at the salon today to get ignored by all the hot guys at this party.”

  “Since you’re my date tonight,” Roan replied, looping her arm through his, “all these guys better just back off.”

  “That’s fine but if I give you the signal to go away, do it. I don’t want you to ruin my game,” Nana Orla teased.

  “Your wish is my command.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Redhawk? Miss Lynch?” A young guy with glasses and an earpiece carrying a clipboard approached them and gestured toward a waiting golf cart. “I’m Evan. Mr. Redhawk and Mr. Ling arranged for transportation to take all of you to the VIP section on the Vista Deck.”

  “You don’t have to ask me twice,” Nana Orla said, making her way to the empty cart. “Take me to the open bar, young man.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Evan smiled, waiting until they were all settled before starting the machine and slowly navigating the crowds of people wandering around in all kinds of party clothes.

  Sarina took in the entire property, comparing the reality with the photos she’d viewed on the internet. It really was a large place and she was glad she didn’t have to walk all this way in the ridiculously high heels she’d chosen for the evening. They were sexy as hell but they weren’t walking shoes.

  They passed several terraces and open-air spaces, strewn with fairy lights and dotted with tables groaning with food and bartenders making every cocktail known to man. People were dancing, laughing, enjoying their success after having worked so hard the previous months. If this didn’t make them all loyal employees, Sarina wasn’t sure what would do the trick.

  They passed the large amphitheater-style concert venue, with its Spanish-inspired decor lit up with colored lights. A local band with a huge following was playing a live show and the seats were packed with bodies swaying back and forth to the tunes. Sarina would have to convince Justin to come back here later and catch some of the show.

  The golf cart turned a corner and directly in front of them, the area marked as the Vista Deck, was an area cordoned off by a velvet rope and monitored by a really big guy holding a clipboard.

  Evan stopped the cart and they all piled out, offering him smiles and waves as Roan slipped him a business card with his cell phone written on the back.

  “Did you just hit on Evan?” Sarina asked, turning her head to catch the guy still checking out her brother.

  “He was adorable. Why not?” Roan shrugged, approaching the bouncer with the clipboard and giving their names.

  They passed the test with flying colors and were all admitted into the exclusive area of the party. There were lots of people here as well, but they were better dressed and the waiters came to you for your food and drink orders, no waiting in lines.

  Sarina checked out the women in the section, noting the sexy, sparkly dresses they were wearing. These women were glamorous, dressed like movie stars, and she was thankful she’d gone with Nana Orla and Tess to the salon and had her hair and makeup done. Even with the best that money could buy in beauty preparation, she was no match for these women.

  “There they are.” Tess pointed to an area just to the right where Adam and Justin were standing and talking to a number of people whose clothes and jewelry proclaimed that they were definitely rich and maybe famous.

  Adam was dressed all in black, his resemblance to Roan so pronounced at this angle. Sarina’s breath caught at the way they both resembled their father, the dark hair and high cheekbones making them ridiculously handsome.

  And then she saw Justin, in dark pants and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was the epitome of everything she thought was sexy. Strong, masculine, confident, charming—he made her smile and her chest tighten with an emotion she’d never really felt before.

  In Malibu she’d asked him to wait to talk about their future, fear making her put off accepting what she wanted. But standing here, watching him and feeling the pull of her body and soul toward him, she knew what she wanted.

  Justin.

  A future together.

  She wanted to remain Mrs. Ling.

  And then he looked over and did an honest-to-God double take as their eyes met and she knew that he wanted the same thing. No words could have convinced her, but that look, that absolute and immediate connection between the two of them, told her what an entire dictionary full of words would never be able to tell her: Justin wanted her, too.

  She started walking, grinning like an idiot with every step she took across the stone pavers to meet Justin halfway. He was smiling, too, giving his lips a sexy curve as he perused her body with eyes full of desire. And just like that, she knew she’d chosen the right thing to wear.

  “You’re beautiful,” he breathed as soon as they were close enough not to be overheard.

  They’d decided not to publicize their involvement tonight. The journalists would latch onto any whisper of a new woman in Justin’s life and with nothing settled between them, she’d been wary of any attention. It had been the right decision. She was already nervous about this event and didn’t need the extra pressure.

  But it was damn hard not to kiss him, not to touch him.

  “This old thing?” she replied, looking down at the black jumpsuit with its plunging neckline and almost nonexistent back.

  “I can’t wait to take it off you later,” he replied, his fingers lightly brushing against the inside of her wrist, sending lightning up her arm and racing across her skin. She shivered with the impact of his touch. “Are you cold?”

  She didn’t get to answer, interrupted by the approach of one of the most beautiful women she’d ever seen. This woman was stunning, tall and willowy with her blond hair in loose curls falling around her tan shoulders. She wore very little makeup, her skin dewy and fresh, lashes long, and lips stained with a red gloss. This woman was the epitome of a California girl, the kind of woman men dreamed about and boys had on posters in their rooms.

  “Justin, your parents want you to meet their friends from the hospital board,” the woman said, her hand grasping his so easily that Sarina knew it wasn’t the first time. Her eyes got wide when she saw Sarina standing there, her expression immediately apologetic. “I’m so sorry, I interrupted you. Forgive me.”

  Great. And she was nice, too. Sarina was good at reading people and nothing about this woman rang false.

  Justin gestured between the two women, deftly removing his hand from the other woman’s grasp. “Sarina Redhawk, this is Heather Scarborough.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” they replied at the same time, causing them both to stutter and smile awkwardly.

  “Oh, good. You found him.” Mrs. Ling appeared over Justin’s other shoulder as if she’d been conjured out of Sarina’s most awkward nightmares, and the older woman’s smile faltered when her gaze landed on Sarina. “Hello, Sarina. It’s nice to see you here.” She turned to Justin and gestured over to the other side of the space. “Justin, I need you to come and meet some people from the hospital board.”

  “Mom, I was just going to dance with Sarina. I’ll meet them later,” Justin answered, his tone tired. He held his hand out to her, his smile apologetic. “Come on.”

  Sarina placed her hand in his, relieved to have a few more moments alone with him, but they were stopped by the arrival of a man at their side. She didn’t recognize him and by the look on Justin’s face, he didn’t know him either.

  “Mr. Ling, Tim Gilbert from Celebrity News. I’m writing an article and I was hoping to get a quote.” The man punctuated his question by shoving a digital recorder in their faces.

  The Celebrity News was a trashy tabloid specializing in gossip and half-truths that barely kept on the right side of slander. This was not a good thing and the tension in Ju
stin’s body told her that he knew it.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Gilbert, but we’ll be answering questions about the new deal at the press conference in a couple of days. I’ll be happy to talk to you then. If you’ll excuse me, we’re off to dance.” Justin nodded at the man with a smile and moved to go around him but the guy fell back and blocked their path.

  “I’m not interested in the new deal, Mr. Ling. I was hoping you could talk to me about your secret marriage to Sarina Redhawk.”

  Fifteen

  “Justin, what is this man talking about?” his mother demanded, her raised voice drawing the attention of nearby VIPs.

  Justin closed his eyes, knowing that he should have seen this coming. He’d been congratulating himself that they’d pulled it off, that they would be able to sneak off for a couple more days and plan their future together and then announce it to the world on their terms. And now they were exactly where he didn’t want to be at the worst possible time.

  So close and yet not even in the damn zip code.

  “Mr. Ling, I’d like to give you and Ms. Redhawk... Mrs. Ling—” the reporter turned to smile at Sarina “—the chance to tell your story.”

  “I’m not going to talk to you about this here,” Justin replied, pointing toward the exit and the bouncer. “Call my office and we’ll schedule an interview at a better time.”

  “It’s not going to work like that, Mr. Ling. I’m sorry. I’m going to run with this story tomorrow, with or without your comment.”

  Justin looked around them. They were starting to draw the attention of the crowd in the VIP area and his mother continuing to ask what was going on was not helping. His father approached, closely followed by Adam and three of the investors. He had to do damage control and he had to do it fast.

  “Justin, what is he talking about?” his mother repeated, her voice filling in the silence that developed whenever people sensed a scandal looming on the horizon. “Tell him that you are not married to Sarina!”

  “I can’t do that, Ma.”

  The reporter smiled, the triumphant grin of a man who had a solid story that he’d file by midnight.

  “So, can you confirm that you two were married in a Vegas quickie wedding? Witnesses say that you were drunk and that you both stated that you had only met a few hours before. Is that correct, Mr. Ling? Ms. Redhawk? Did you guys get married when you were total strangers and drunk? What do you plan on doing about it? We heard that you’ve hired divorce lawyers to end the marriage on the down low. Keep it out of the press. Although nobody would be surprised about it with your reputation, right, Mr. Ling?”

  If possible, their audience got even quieter as they all processed that information. Justin couldn’t blame them; this was good stuff. Better than reality TV. Did they have a popcorn station at this party? They should.

  Justin motioned for the bouncer to take care of this problem. “Get this guy out of here, now.”

  The reporter went quietly if not entirely willingly, his expression smug. He didn’t need their statement and so he wasn’t going to make a fuss to stick around until he got it. His removal did little to dissolve the crowd although Roan and Adam tried to get people to give Sarina and Justin some privacy. In the end he still had his parents and several investors standing by and waiting for answers.

  This time it was his father’s turn to ask the million-dollar question. “Justin, is any of this true?”

  The question was echoed by two of Aerospace Link’s highest executives, their frowns telling him exactly what they expected his answer to be.

  Justin looked at Sarina, unable to gauge where she was with this. Her face was blank, the old Sarina back in place. The one who gave away nothing and had walls that nobody could climb.

  He wished that they’d had their talk because he didn’t know where she was on all of this. The last time they’d talked about it they were getting divorced and she’d avoided any discussion about a change in status since then. Justin knew she cared about him, and he knew that she enjoyed sex with him, and he knew that she still planned to get on her bike and leave him behind once the ink was dry on the divorce papers.

  And he knew that a couple thousand people were here celebrating a deal that would guarantee that employees still had jobs and Redhawk/Ling could survive any downturn in the tech sector. He knew this deal was security for many people and he knew he couldn’t kill it at the eleventh hour.

  What he didn’t know was if his wife loved him enough to stay.

  He couldn’t make a grand statement that they were in love and staying married when he didn’t know if Sarina was willing to play along with that story. Because that couldn’t be a short-term thing. It would have to be a long-haul commitment to convince everyone that it was the truth and as far as he knew, she was still going to sign those divorce papers.

  So, he really had no choice. He didn’t have a winning hand and it was time to fold.

  Sarina would understand. He’d make her understand. It was time for him to do some damage control.

  “Look, I’m married...we’re married...but it was a mistake and we are in the process of having the marriage dissolved.” He reached for Sarina’s hand and she let him take it, but it was cold and her body was stiff. “We are committed to staying friends and remaining in each other’s lives in the future. We are both part of the Redhawk/Ling family and that is how it will remain even though we will no longer be married.”

  “Excuse me, I think you’ve got this. I’m leaving.” Sarina ripped her hand away from him and turned, pushing her way through the crowd and heading toward the exit.

  Roan and Tess followed in her wake, their withering looks of disappointment unmistakable. Adam stayed behind but he was pissed, anger setting his jaw in a hard line and his eyes almost black with his emotion. Justin looked behind him one more time, watching Sarina’s retreat, and suddenly he didn’t care—he had to talk to her.

  “Sarina, wait!”

  His father’s grip on his arm, firm and strong, stopped him in his tracks. His tone was brittle, voice deep and loud enough for only Justin to hear, but it sounded like a gunshot going off in his brain. “Justin, where are you going? Let her go. Don’t throw this away right now, son. You need to keep your priorities straight and at this moment your priority has to be your company.”

  His father cast a meaningful glance at the investors, who were talking quietly together in a group, throwing the occasional skeptical glance in his direction. Nothing about their demeanor said that they were holding him or Redhawk/Ling in high regard. Everything about them said that he’d fucked up and needed to fix it—now.

  His father continued. “Justin, you’re always trying to tell me that I don’t understand or respect your business and your accomplishments. You’re wrong. I do respect your work ethic, but I think your personal life leaves a lot to be desired. You’re reckless but I wouldn’t care if it just impacted your personal life. You do what you want and then get offended when your poor choices jeopardize your business.” His father gestured around, his movement meant to encompass all of the guests enjoying themselves at the party. “You have a lot of people who depend on you to do the right thing, to be the right thing. And I’m presuming that your new partners have insisted on the standard morality clauses?” He didn’t wait for Justin to confirm it; a businessman in his own right, he already knew the answer. “So be the man these people can depend on and fix this. You are the only one who can fix this.”

  Justin looked in the direction where Sarina had disappeared, wishing he could do what he wanted but knowing he had to do the right thing. He’d created this mess and his father was right: he was the only one who could fix it.

  He’d make this right and then he’d find Sarina and fix their forever.

  Sixteen

  Sarina was used to packing light and fast.

  Years of moving from foster care situation to foster care situat
ion with nothing but a few things thrown in a plastic trash bag had prepared her for the military. The army had perfected her ability to move quickly and disappear when she wanted to be gone.

  She’d left the party after that humiliating fiasco and ordered the car to take her back to Nana Orla’s as fast as it could without getting pulled over by the police. She’d barely set foot in the house before Wilma was growling at her. And not fifteen minutes after that, Sarina heard a car pull up outside the house and Nana Orla burst through the door on full alert, wanting to know if everything was okay.

  But Sarina couldn’t answer her. How could she talk about the moment when she’d been humiliated in front of the press and all of Justin and Adam’s rich friends? She’d known that going to the party was a bad idea but she’d been fooled by Justin, blinded by what she felt for him.

  Stupid, stupid girl.

  Sarina wiped at her eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. It had been years since she’d cried over something as stupid as a guy or having her feelings hurt. She’d cried over dead men and women in the desert, so far from home and family. She’d cried as a child, missing her mom and dad and her brothers, confused by being surrounded by strangers.

  She wasn’t going to cry over Justin Ling.

  Sarina stripped off her jumpsuit, throwing it over the chair in the room. She wouldn’t need it where she was going and it would take up space in her backpack. She was back to being Sarina, finally awakened from the spell that she belonged in a world of money and power and privilege. She didn’t belong in that world. She didn’t belong with Justin. She’d just forgotten that for a while.

  Wilma paced the floor, sensing her agitation and whining with her own anxiety. Sarina scooped her up, speaking soothingly to the dog as she showed her that she was going with her.

  “Don’t worry, baby.” Sarina pressed a kiss to the dog’s head, nuzzling against her when Wilma pressed into her body. “Look, I’m putting your toys in the bag. You’re going with me. You always go with me.”