Ruthless Billionaire, Forbidden Baby

Her heart quickened to a wild flutter as the cars pulled up on a long driveway which ran in front of the two-storeyed brick house and above the landscaped terrace where guests were milling amongst the rows of chairs set out for the ceremony. There were too many people for her to spot Fletcher straight away, and she didn’t have time to give more than a cursory glance at the crowd. Her friends were piling out of the car and she had to follow, carry through her bridesmaid role for Kirsty who looked wonderful in her own Grecian style gown.

A flight of stone steps led down to the terrace. The harpist Kirsty had hired for the ceremony was positioned at the head of them and the guests settled as he started playing his magnificent gold concert harp, instantly creating a romantic atmosphere for the wedding. The five bridesmaids lined up beside him, ready for the walk down the steps.

Celine was behind Tammy, and she leaned forward and muttered, ‘Fletcher did come. I can hardly believe it. But there he is, standing beside Andrew at the back of the seated guests and he’s staring straight at you.’

Tammy’s head instantly swivelled to where Celine had directed, her pulse racing in excitement at this possible evidence that Fletcher might still be interested in her.

Her swinging gaze caught his and for several electric moments, Tammy was transfixed by a bolting sense of joy. He didn’t look away. The distance between them was too great for her to see the expression in his eyes but she felt their laser-like strength of purpose, probing for a response from her. Yes,yes, yes, flew wildly round her mind. She should have smiled, she thought afterwards, given a positive physical signal, but before her mind could come down from its high to reason sensibly, Celine poked her in the back and hissed, ‘Move!’

Her attention jerked back to performing her bridesmaid role. Hannah was already on the third step down, Lucy on the top one. She had to move forward, keep two steps between each bridesmaid. And watch her footing. The stone slabs dipped a bit in the middle, worn down by innumerable people treading on them during the long naval history of this place. There would be time for Fletcher later.

The wedding procession rounded the stone fountain in the middle of the lower terrace, then turned to walk down the makeshift aisle to the right of it, heading for where the groom and his men were lined up beside the celebrant. Tammy could barely stop her feet from dancing. Walking at a measured pace was an act of stern discipline. But it was easy to smile. In fact, she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face for the entire ceremony.

She was still smiling when Fletcher made his way to her as other guests crowded around the bride and groom to congratulate them. Her heart was pounding with nervous excitement as she watched him deliberately target her and home in.

‘Tamalyn…’

Her name sounded like a drum-roll coming from deep within his throat. His dark eyes seemed to burn into her soul. A wave of heat rushed through her. She clutched her bouquet tightly as though it was the only support system she had to hold herself together. It was important to stay alert, to assess where Fletcher was coming from and what he wanted of her.

‘Hi!’ she said in warm welcome. ‘I didn’t think weddings were your thing, Fletcher. What are you doing here?’

‘Fate took a hand in this one with Kirsty marrying Max’s brother,’ he answered smoothly, smiling over the coincidence, not mentioning how he’d used it. ‘And may I say it was worth coming, just to see you again.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment,’ she said lightly, wary of actually believing that seeing her was his only purpose behind this visit. He might have business with Max Hathaway after the wedding.

‘I mean it,’ he insisted in his deep sexy voice. ‘Each time we meet your beauty hits me like a thunderbolt.’

The words gave her a queazy, defensive feeling. Beauty had no holding power. Her mother’s life proved that. And how Fletcher had seen her at both weddings was very temporary, manufactured for the occasion. She didn’t want it to be her main attraction for him, instinctively bridling against it.

‘Ah! But the strike is like a flash in the pan, Fletcher,’ she said with an ironic twist. ‘You recover and move on.’

‘I carry the memory with me. And the scars.’

‘Scars?’ She arched quizzical eyebrows, wanting to know if she really had deeply affected him.

‘Battle wounds.’ He made a wry grimace. ‘I came off losing with you last time.’

Tammy eyed him warily. Was this approach to her an ego thing? ‘Does that mean that you’re out to win today?’ she asked.

‘Do I have a chance?’

‘That probably depends on how much you offend me.’

‘I’ve learnt my lesson,’ he said with mock gravity. ‘No comments on your friends’ marriages.’

‘You can say good things,’ she suggested, wishing for a change of attitude on his part.

‘I’d rather concentrate on you.’ His eyes burned into hers with an intensity of purpose that would not accept any evasion. ‘Are you connected to anyone, Tamalyn?’

A man, he meant. Tammy instantly seized the opportunity to clear that deck both ways.

‘No. Are you?’

He smiled, the intensity relaxing into a simmer of satisfaction. ‘I came alone. I hoped to have the pleasure of your company this evening.’

The pleasure of her company…

A flood of warmth invaded her heart, soothing the troubled need to be a person he valued for more than her physical attraction. It emboldened her enough to tease him. ‘Pleasure, Fletcher? You must be a masochist, since you carry wounds from our previous encounter.’

He laughed, delight in her response lighting up his face. ‘I find the battle with you envigorating.’

‘Then I’ll try to be at my challenging best whenever you seek me out.’

‘As soon as you’re finished with your bridesmaid’s duties, I’ll be at your side.’

‘Eager for the lash of my smart tongue?’

The provocative comment ignited a blaze of desire in his eyes. ‘It’s an addictive taste,’ he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

He meant to kiss her tonight. No doubt about that. And she wanted him to, wanted him to so badly that her body signalled a wild urge to let it happen. Her breasts tingled, her nipples tightening into hard buds, her heart thumped into a gallop, her stomach contracted and every nerve in her body buzzed. She was too choked up to speak.

Jennifer’s call broke the tension-filled moment. ‘Tammy, photographs.’

‘Got to go.’

The words came out in a guttural jerk. She swallowed hard, needing to work some moisture down her throat.

His gaze flicked up. ‘I’ll patiently watch you perform for the camera,’ he drawled, a sensual promise in the slow movement of his mouth.

‘Don’t miss the background view,’ she tossed at him. ‘It might remind you there’s more spectacular beauty right here on Sydney Harbour than anywhere else in the world.’

And she wanted him to be homesick for it, wanted him to be sick with yearning for her, too. As she walked over to her friends, she fiercely hoped that whatever pleasures they shared tonight would burn into Fletcher Stanton’s heart so deeply, she’d be the only woman he wanted in his life.

CHAPTER FOUR

FLETCHER zeroed in on her again the moment the photographic session was over, with one of the waiters in tow, ensuring she had her choice from a tray of canapes and handing her a glass of champagne.

‘Shall we find a quiet spot where we can enjoy the view together?’ he suggested, his eyes transmitting pleasure in her— warm, blood-tingling pleasure.

The groomsman partnering her had a girlfriend amongst the guests so she felt no social obligation to remain with him. Nor was she needed for any further bridesmaid duty until much later this evening. Free to please herself, Tammy had no hesitation in agreeing to Fletcher’s plan. She wanted to be alone with him, wanted to explore what he made her feel.

‘Lead the way,’ she invited.

He curled a protective arm around her waist as he negotiated their way through the crowd and Tammy found herself once again revelling in the sense of dominant strength keeping her safe, taking care of her. The male-female connection felt very intense, as though they were locked in step together, moving in a capsule of space that was uniquely theirs—a capsule permeated with acute sexual awareness.

He took her down a short flight of stone steps to a lower terrace where several park benches were placed to catch the long-range vista of the harbour. His arm dropped away from her as he saw her seated. He hooked it on the back of the bench, seating himself beside her in a half-turn position, watching her instead of the scenic view in front of them.

Tammy hoped he couldn’t see any visible sign of the physical meltdown going on inside her. As it was, she struggled for enough mental strength to engage him in conversation. ‘You must have travelled to many places, Fletcher. Is there anywhere more beautiful than this?’ she asked, wanting to know more about his life, which was so separate to hers.