Emma Darcy

In Bed With...Collection


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at the end of the rainbow ride.

      If a woman wanted him…fine. Especially if he wanted her. But the occasional pleasure in bed did not warrant a gold ring and a gold passport to a hefty divorce settlement. Apart from which, he certainly didn’t need the aggravation of a demanding wife. He much preferred a walkaway situation.

      ‘You get married, Bryce, or I’ll put Damian in control of business, right over your head. Make him CEO until you do get a wife. That will free up your time,’ his father threatened.

      ‘And give you another heart attack when he messes up,’ Bryce mocked, knowing his half-brother’s limited vision only too well.

      ‘I mean it, boy! Time’s slipping by and I’m feeling my mortality these days. I want to see you married, and married soon. With a grandchild on the way, too. Within a year. Just get out there and choose a wife. You hear me?’

      He was going red in the face. Concerned about his father’s blood pressure, Bryce instantly set aside the argument. ‘I hear you, Dad.’

      ‘Good! Then do it! And find a woman like your mother. She had a brain, as well as being beautiful.’ He sank back onto the cushions of the lounger, taking quick shallow breaths. The high colour gradually receded. ‘Worst day of my life when your mother died.’

      Bryce couldn’t remember it. He’d only been three years old. What he remembered was the succession of stepmothers who had waltzed into and out of his childhood and adolescence.

      ‘Got to think of the children,’ his father muttered. ‘Damian’s mother was a featherhead. Charming, sexy, but without a thought worth listening to.’ His eyes closed and his voice dropped to a mumble. ‘Damian’s a good boy. Not his fault he hasn’t got your brain. At least he’s guidable.’

      Watching fatigue lines deepen on his face, making him look older than his sixty years, Bryce was troubled by the thought there was more to his father’s remark on feeling his mortality than he was letting on. Just how bad was his heart condition?

      While they’d had this argument over marriage before, there’d never been a time-frame stipulated.

      Within a year.

      And the threat about Damian—empty though it was—added more weight to the demand, carrying a measure of desperation.

      The sun had slipped below the horizon as they’d talked. The massive red rocks were darkening with shadows. Nothing stayed the same for long, Bryce reflected, and if time was running out for his father…well, why not please him by getting married?

      It shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

      He wouldn’t let it be.

       CHAPTER TWO

      SUNNY YORK’s heart did not leap with joy when she spotted her fiancé shoving through the crowd of delegates waiting to enter the conference room. His appearance sent a shudder of distaste down her spine and she found herself gritting her teeth as a host of blistering criticisms clamoured to be expressed.

      It was the last day of the conference, the last day to try and smooth over the bad impressions he’d made on others, and the most important day for her, which Derek knew perfectly well. And he turned up like this?

      She shook her head in disgust, thinking of how early she had risen this morning, determined on presenting a perfect, go-getting image. It had taken an hour to get her unruly mane of rippling curls under reasonable control, carefully blow-drying out any tendency to frizz and ensuring the whole tawny mass of it looked decently groomed. Her make-up was positive without being overdone, and her sharp yellow suit was a statement of vibrant confidence.

      There was absolutely nothing sharp about Derek. His suit looked rumpled, as though he’d dropped it on the floor and dragged it on again. His eyes were bloodshot, he’d nicked his chin shaving, and he was obviously in no state to get anything out of the morning session. She actually bristled with rejection as he hooked his arm around hers.

      ‘Made it,’ he said, as though it were an achievement she should be grateful for.

      Never mind that he’d broken every arrangement for them to spend private time together. Turning up for her sales presentation did not make up for treating her like nothing all week. And turning up like this was the last straw to Sunny.

      Her sherry-brown eyes held no welcoming warmth as she tersely replied, ‘I expected to see you at breakfast.’

      He leaned over confidentially. ‘Had it at the roulette table. Free drinks, free food all night. They sure look after you at these casinos and I was running hot.’

      Sunny’s heart felt very cold. ‘I’m amazed you tore yourself away.’

      He grimaced as though she was acting like a pain to him. ‘Don’t nag. I’m here, aren’t I?’

      Four days they’d been in Las Vegas and he’d been gambling every spare minute, even skipping conference sessions when he thought he could get away with it. ‘I take it the hot run ended,’ she bit out, barely controlling a fiery flash of temper at his criticism of her attitude.

      ‘Nope. I won a packet,’ he slurred smugly. ‘But I happened to see the big man come in last night and if he’s showing this morning…’

      ‘What big man?’ she snapped, losing all patience with him.

      ‘The head of the whole shebang. Bryce Templar himself. He dropped into the L.A. conference last year to give us a pep talk, remember?’

      Sunny remembered. The CEO of Templar Resources was the most gorgeous hunk she’d ever seen, almost a head taller than she was and with a big muscular frame that telegraphed all man to her, eminently lust-worthy, but so far beyond her reach, he was strictly dream material.

      She hadn’t heard a word he’d said at L.A. She’d sat in the audience, imagining how it might be in bed with all that strong maleness being driven by the charismatic energy he was putting out in his address to them.

      His father had founded Templar Resources, back in 1984, and it was now the largest networking company in the world, producing and servicing software in most languages. Obviously the son was building on that, not just inheriting his position, which added even more power to his sex appeal. On any male evolution scale he was definitely the top rung.

      ‘Guess he’ll do the same today,’ Derek babbled on. ‘Thought I’d better turn up for it.’

      Sunny cast a severely jaundiced look at the man she’d cast in the future role of her husband and father to the family she wanted. Having seen her two younger sisters married and producing adorable babies, she’d become hopelessly clucky, and when Derek had walked into her life, he’d seemed the answer to her dreams.

      Those dreams had received an awful lot of tarnishing this week, and right at this moment, the reminder of a man as powerfully impressive as Bryce Templar did nothing to shine them up again.

      Derek was the same height as herself—if she wore flat heels—and quite handsome on better days when his blue eyes were clear and his face more alive. His dark blond hair was still damp from a very recent shower so the sun-bleached streaks weren’t showing so much this morning. He usually kept his rather lean physique toned up with sessions in the gym but he hadn’t been anywhere near the hotel’s health club this week.

      All in all, he was much less a man in Sunny’s eyes than he’d been four days ago. Whether this gambling fever was a temporary madness or not, he’d completely lost her respect, and she’d hand him back his diamond ring right now, except it might cause a scene that she could do without in front of the other delegates whose respect she wanted when she gave her presentation in just another hour’s time.

      Deeply disillusioned and angry with the assumption she would overlook everything, she unhooked her arm from Derek’s as they moved into the conference room and gave him