The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress

He drove his tongue deep into her mouth and shifted his hips, knowing she must be aware of how incredibly turned on he was. But she didn’t flinch. Instead her fingers teased, exploring the ridges of his abdominal muscles, brushing his lower belly.

“Woman, you’re killing me,” he said hoarsely.

She gave a little throaty laugh.

That was enough. His senses on fire, Joshua drew her to the bed and came down on the cover beside her. In the darkness he cupped her head in his hands, her hair soft and silky between his fingers. The ties of the mask tangled in his fingers and he tugged them loose. He kissed her cheeks where the mask had rested … her neck … and moved his lips to where he guessed the V-neckline of her outrageous dress would be.

She wasn’t laughing now. Her body arched beneath him, and the swell of her breasts brushed his arm.

“Alice.”

She stilled.

Then his hand closed over the fabric-draped softness of her breast. He heard her gasp out loud.

“Ah, Alice, this is going to be good. I promise.” Impatiently, he peeled the dress down over her shoulders—and discovered she wore no bra. He bent his head to taste the skin he’d exposed.

“Joshua.”

The call jarred Joshua back to reality an instant before the bedroom door burst open. He rolled in front of her, shielding her from the intruder.

Dim light backdropped the figure who stood in the doorway. Joshua snarled, “Dammit, Heath. Can’t you knock?”

Two

The bedside light clicked on. Brightness spilled into every corner of the room, hurting Alyssa’s eyes.

But she didn’t blink. She couldn’t take her eyes off the half-naked man on the bed beside her. The high, slanting cheekbones and black eyes were all too familiar. She’d studied photos of him, wondering how someone so utterly beautifully and flagrantly male could be such an arrogant swine.

Joshua Saxon.

No wonder his voice had sounded so damn familiar. She pulled her knees to her chest and yanked the bedcover over her nakedness, then buried her head in her hands, humiliation crawling through her.

“What do you want, Heath?” There was an edge to Joshua’s voice as he sat up and addressed his brother.

Through the cracks between her fingers, Alyssa peered toward the door. Heath Saxon. The younger, rakehell brother. He’d been featured in Wine Watch as a winemaker to watch. In the photo accompanying the profile, he’d been smiling, tanned. Now he hovered indecisively in the doorway. Until, a flush burning into his pasty skin, he said awkwardly, “Sorry, Joshua, but there’s been an accident.”

Joshua’s shoulders bunched under the open shirt. “An accident?”

Alyssa’s hand dropped to cover his.

“Roland’s been hurt,” Heath said. “We need to go to the hospital.”

Roland hurt? Alyssa was off the bed in an instant, pulling up the neckline of her dress.

“Roland’s my brother,” Joshua said to Alyssa. Then his focus returned to his brother. “What kind of accident?”

“A car accident.”

“What the hell happened?” Joshua asked the question before Alyssa could.

Heath shook his head. “I don’t know, but an ambulance has taken him and Amy to hospital.”

That catapulted Joshua into action. He leapt off the bed, started buttoning his shirt and trod into his shoes. “Do the parents know?”

Heath’s eyes darkened. “I told them there’d been an accident, that you and I would go see how bad it was. They’re telling everyone the party’s over.”

“Good move.” Joshua headed for the door. “If it’s necessary, they can come to the hospital later.”

Before he could disappear, Alyssa said, “I’m coming with you.”

To her relief both men were more concerned with getting to the hospital than arguing with her. Heath gave her a searching look—then glanced at Joshua and raised his eyebrows. Alyssa knew he was making assumptions—assumptions that were totally wrong. He thought she was Joshua’s lover. She didn’t bother to disillusion him.

Nor was it the time to get into lengthy discussions about her relationship to Roland … a revelation that she suspected might come as a huge shock to both men. Joshua was not to find out who she was. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know that she would be unceremoniously tossed out the house.

She couldn’t afford that. She had to find out how badly Roland was hurt.

Once in Joshua’s Range Rover, the tension became palpable. Joshua drove like a man with a lethal mission, in total silence, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. Beside him Heath made call after call from his cell phone, growing increasingly frustrated when he couldn’t get answers out of the emergency staff.

Alyssa huddled down in the back, doing her best to remain invisible lest either man question her right to be here. She prayed that Roland’s injuries were minor. Hopefully he’d be discharged tonight. It would be unbearable if, after all the waiting, she couldn’t meet with him tomorrow.

The moment the Range Rover braked outside the hospital, the three of them leapt out, hurrying for the glass doors that led to the emergency room.

Inside the smell of urgency and antiseptic injected dread into Alyssa. As Joshua’s voice rose, she heard the nurse murmuring “in surgery” and “someone will be with you soon.” Alyssa stopped a distance away. Heath asked a series of short, sharp questions and Alyssa strained her ears to hear the reply. She heard “shocked” and “will need supervision” before Joshua replied, his voice cutting. Alyssa felt for the nurse. He’d used that same voice on her in the past after her story had been printed. It had riled her enough to tell him to get lost before she’d slammed the phone down. But now she hoped it would get the answers they all wanted.

When Joshua came back to where she’d settled to wait, his mouth was tighter than before and lines of strain were etched across his forehead.

“How is my—” Alyssa broke off.

Joshua did a double take. “Your … what?” he prompted softly.

Furious with herself for the near giveaway and fighting to keep her face impassive, she asked in an even tone, “How is Roland?”

Instinct warned her that it was vital not to let Joshua Saxon know how important his answer was to her. He detested Alyssa Blake. As soon as he realised who he’d been kissing … touching … stripping … in the dark, he was going to explode.

“He’s in surgery. No news yet about the extent of his injuries.” The chair scraped against the polished floor as Joshua threw himself down beside her. “Thankfully Amy got off with only some bruising from the seat belt when the car hit a tree.”

Hit a tree? A vision of mangled steel and broken glass flashed across Alyssa’s mind. The sound of screams and groaning metal rent her imagination. She bit her lip and focused instead on Joshua’s drawn features, the beauty dimmed by the savage line of his mouth. For a moment she felt a sense of kinship with him.

“Joshua?”

He lifted his head at the intrusion and the spell was broken. Alyssa felt the loneliness return, stronger and more pervasive than before. There was no bond between her and Joshua Saxon—at least none that wasn’t based on sex. She shook away the disappointment.

Heath was heading toward them. “The nurse says they’ve finished checking Amy out and it shouldn’t be long until she’s back here.”

“It’s a relief that she wasn’t hurt. She could’ve been killed if they’re right about the speed the SUV was doing,” Joshua said darkly.

“Since when did Roland ever drive slowly?” Heath bit out.