and again that he didn’t care. And once he was an adult, they’d made him believe he was a playboy until he had no other choice but to play the part. He could have any woman—they always told him—except Kate or Molly. That was the rule.
And every year of his life, that single, simple rule had made him feel tied up, caged like a lion, and as unhappy as a penned-up bull.
Now the command from his brother to stay away from the only woman who truly knew him made a fresh surge of anger rise up from within him. No matter what Molly thought now, or what Garrett planned to do, this was Julian’s future on the line—and he had been planning it for years. No one was going to mess with that future. Or with his red-haired, paint-streaked little gypsy girl. Or with him.
Especially when he intended to use this fake relationship with Molly to explore his very real feelings for her.
Quietly and with deliberate slowness, Julian rose to his feet, came around the table and set a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Then he whispered, very mildly, but with an edge, “Stay out of this, Garrett. I don’t want to hurt you, man, and I definitely don’t want to hurt her. So just stay the hell out of this.”
Then he grabbed his jacket, reclaimed his cool and stalked out of his office.
* * *
“I can’t believe it. I really can’t. I just know you’re pulling my leg, Molly.”
Propped up on a stool by the granite island in the Devaneys’ kitchen while her sister decorated newly baked cookies, Molly focused on filing her nails, her stomach fluttering with excitement over this being her first night as Julian’s fake girlfriend. She could hardly wait to see the expression on Garrett’s dark, riveting face when he eventually saw them together. Hopefully, Julian would drape his arm around her shoulders in that aloof, sexy manner he had, in a way that said she’s my girl and aren’t I the hottest ticket around?
“I’m not pulling anything, I swear,” Molly assured her. “You can totally call Julian and ask him.”
Kate held up her spatula in the air, her auburn-red hair—the same shade as Molly’s—haphazardly knotted atop her beautiful face. She exuded such raw sexiness while wearing that frilly white apron that Molly could’ve hated her if she didn’t love her sister so utterly.
If there was one word to describe Kate Devaney, it would be alive. Kate thrived doing everything and anything, which explained the rocking success of her catering business; she was a killer cook with killer curves, tall and tanned and confident and fun.
The only thing Molly truly had that might surpass Kate in the looks department was her really nice bust, but then she went through so much effort to hide it, in the end it didn’t amount to much of an advantage.
“Julian and you? Together? I just can’t give credit to this. His girls are always so—”
“Don’t say it or I’ll hate you,” Molly grumbled, smacking her nail file down.
Kate sighed, scooped up cookies from the baking sheet and began packaging them in single decorative cellophane wraps. “Fine. I won’t say it. But you know what I mean, don’t you?”
Molly stood and went to look at herself in the mirror by the foyer, trying not to remember how Julian’s words had hurt her yesterday morning. “You’re right, I know they don’t look like me,” she said as she ambled back with an expression of total displeasure on her face. “They’re tall and sexy and sophisticated.” But I don’t care because I don’t want Julian, I want Garrett, she reminded herself.
Her lips still burned with the memory of his scorching kiss, the incredibly sexy rumble of him growling against her mouth, as if Molly’s lips were something to suckle on and bite on and feast on...
Everything inside her turned hot, and Molly shook the images aside.
Kate looked at Molly and burst out laughing. “You’ve really fallen for him, haven’t you? I love Julian, Molls, but even I admit that whoever marries him is a fool. And I don’t want you to be that fool, Moo.”
Molly was about to assure her she would never be so stupid as to fall for Julian John. She had never seen a man so determined to sleep with so many women in her life. It was as if he had an itch he needed to get scratched and none of them seemed to cut it for him. She was about to express all of this to Kate, but then she remembered she was supposed to be his girlfriend already—or yeah, his lover, since Julian was too worldly to have girlfriends—so she clamped her mouth shut and privately thanked her lucky stars that she truly had better sense than to become notch number 1,000,340 on the mysterious and uncatchable Julian John Gage’s bedpost.
Kate paused in her cookie wrapping and lifted two winged eyebrows in question. “So how did it happen? Did he just suddenly—?”
“Did I realize what a fool I’ve been not to finally admit little Molls is the one for me? Yeah. Exactly like that.” The deep baritone that interrupted them startled Molly so much that her arms broke out in goose bumps.
She spun around as Julian shut the front door after him, and her stomach sank in mortification when she realized that once again he would find her in paint-splattered work clothes. Then she remembered she didn’t care. This was Julian John and she didn’t need to impress him. He already thought she looked like a by-product of a blender. Why ruin it for him?
But it seemed wholly unfair that she would be wearing paint marks up to her hair and he would look so clean and male and good. Black jacket slung over his shoulder, his burgundy Gucci tie almost undone, he looked sexily tousled and delicious. Not that Molly wanted a bite of him or anything, but she supposed another woman would. Hell, they all did.
But Molly had common sense in regards to him.
She mentally patted herself on the back once more while Julian stalked forward as if he owned the place, wearing that playful grin he’d given her ever since they were kids.
“Whatever Kate has said about me, Mopey, don’t believe her. It’s all due to the fact that she wanted me first.” His strong arms coiled like a steel vise around her waist while that Beckham-blond head dipped toward hers.
Molly didn’t see it coming. He moved too fast and had incredible strength, and she was only five feet tall and easily handled. Before she could even realize what was happening, Julian had already reeled her in, crushing her breasts against his rock-hard pecs as his mouth settled firmly over hers, expertly, perfectly, oh so hotly.
And ooh. Oooh. A tiny working part of her mind frantically screamed at her to push him away. The only one she should be kissing now was Garrett! But the fact was, Julian kissed like his brother. Except Julian tasted clean and minty and not of wine, and he kissed her as if he had all the time in the world.
Those silken playboy’s lips pressed with painstaking gentleness against hers and moved so languorously that all her senses began to spin out of control. Molly became magnetized. Hypnotized. Almost transported to the night her entire world had flipped upside down, and she’d glanced down to find her heart had been stolen from her chest.
She wasn’t even sure she was standing anymore, but trusted that Julian would always catch her fall. The sudden desperate urge to press closer to him flitted through her, burned through her being as he lingered in his kiss for a thrilling, electrifying second, and then he was gone. Leaving her dazed and surprised and scatterbrained as he set her away—thankfully keeping a steady hand on her elbow until she found her ground.
He said something once it was over. She thought it was hello.
Molly pushed her hair back, feeling dazed. “Uh—hi.”
He asked her something, his voice huskier than usual, his eyes at half-mast, and she stared at his mouth. His soft yet strong lips became the center of her attention, for she wondered what exactly it was about those lips that had felt so incredibly good when he’d put them on hers.
Even her knees had taken a hit.
She fought to calm down, but remained so shaken she ended