Playing with Seduction Read online

  A soft smile curved the edge of Bree’s mouth and her cheeks warmed as she returned his affectionate gaze. Bree wanted to believe that what Nadia was saying was true. That Wes reciprocated her growing feelings for him.

  The warmth she’d felt moments earlier gave way to a dull ache in her chest and a knot in her belly.

  She returned her attention to Nadia. “It’s not what you think.”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m right and you two are both wrong about what this is.” Nadia squeezed her arm and disappeared into the crowd.

  Bree released a long, slow breath, her heart beating quickly. They’d grown closer during their two weeks in London. Each day together had felt more intimate, but now their trip was coming to an end.

  They’d fallen into an easy rhythm. Making love in the mornings and chatting over breakfast. Dinner together and nights that ended in the same manner they began. In each other’s arms.

  While Wes worked with his small team to hire more staff and finalize plans for a huge corporate party, Bree worked on the tournament and her own projects. She’d had video and phone conferences with Bex and the marketing consultant they’d hired to help them plan and promote their volleyball camps the following year.

  Still, Wes had insisted on taking her to see all of the tourist attractions she hadn’t been able to squeeze into her previous working trips to London. Visits to the Tower of London, Kensington Palace and Westminster Abbey. A turn on the London Eye—the giant Ferris wheel on the south bank of the River Thames. A romantic evening stroll across London Bridge and a view of the city from the hauntingly beautiful attached skyscraper—the Shard.

  She’d been incredibly happy, and it seemed that Wes was, too. So why did he seem so terrified by the prospect of exploring the feelings they had for each other?

  It was a question she’d revisited time and again. Yet, she hadn’t wanted to broach the subject with him. She’d willingly agreed to a secret, no-strings-attached fling with Wes. Insisted that she was cosmopolitan enough to handle such an affair. So she’d grin and bear the pain that knotted her belly whenever she considered what would happen once the tournament had ended and they went their separate ways.

  “Enjoying the party?” Wes stood beside her.

  “Yes.” Bree finished her glass of champagne and set it on the tray of a server walking by. “But I think I’ll head back to your place. I feel like I’m a distraction to you. Besides, I need to call my mother and yours.”

  “You’re a pleasant distraction. My favorite kind.” He smiled warmly. “And as for my mom, I’m grateful you’ve been so patient with her, but if she’s become a nuisance, I’ll talk to her.”

  “Don’t you dare. I enjoy spending time with her. I promise.” She double-checked that the spare key Wes gave her was in her clutch, then snapped it shut. “See you back at the flat?”

  “At least let me hail a taxi for you.” Wes frowned.

  “I’ll be fine.” Bree made her way to the exit, hoping that Nadia was right. And that Wes missed her as much as she was already missing him.

  * * *

  Despite all of the noise and movement swirling around him, Wes was focused on one thing—Brianna Evans walking away from him. A thought that had occupied a growing space in his brain.

  He shouldn’t worry about what would happen at the project’s end. He should just enjoy every moment they had together. Stop worrying about the future and commiserating over his past. Live in the now.

  Yet, losing her was all he could think of.

  Though he couldn’t rightly claim to be losing her when they’d be parting ways at his insistence.

  “She’s even nicer in person.” Nadia had a way of sneaking up on him. “I see why you fancy her so.”

  Wes didn’t respond to Nadia’s attempt to gauge his relationship with Bree. It was safer to talk business instead.

  “How are the two potential new hires doing?” His gaze swept the room, in search of any small details that might have fallen through the cracks.

  “Smashing. It’s too bad we can only afford to bring one of them onboard. Don’t know how we’ll choose.”

  “Maybe we won’t have to.” Wes held back a grin when Nadia’s eyes widened. He’d been so preoccupied with business and Bree that he hadn’t told her the news. “I’ve been talking with the Westbrooks over the past few weeks. They’d like to make us the official event-planning professionals for their London headquarters.”

  Nadia squeezed his arm and mimicked a silent squeal. “I thought you were determined to do this without them.”

  “I love and admire the Westbrooks, but I didn’t want to feel beholden to them. I went against everyone’s advice in starting this business—including Liam and his father. I needed to show them I could make it a success without their family’s power and wealth behind me.” He shrugged. “I’ve done that here.”

  “And in the US? I know your best mate begged you to help him out on short notice, but I get the sense there’s more to it than that. Was working with Brianna the carrot that finally won you over?” Nadia grinned.

  “Didn’t realize she was involved when I agreed to it,” he reminded her. An involuntary smile tightened his cheeks. “But working with her has turned out to be a highlight.”

  “I knew it. You’re completely gaga over her, aren’t you?” Nadia could barely contain her excitement.

  “How is it you’re more excited about this than my news about Westbrook International?” He raised a brow. “Especially since I’m promoting you to president of UK operations by the end of the year if everything works out in the US.”

  This time Nadia’s squeal wasn’t silent. With the ruckus going on around them, few people noticed. She hugged him.

  “I can’t believe it. Thank you for your faith in me. I was sure you’d bring some heavy hitter in to head things up here if the project went well across the pond.”

  “You’ve been with me since the beginning. Back when we were working out of that mangy old flat. You were there every day and worked solely on commission. How could you think I’d trust anyone else to head up the business here?”

  “You’re making me blush.” Nadia swiped a finger beneath the corner of her eye and sniffled. “Don’t expect this to put a stop to me meddling in your love life.”

  “I don’t have a love life.”

  “Precisely. But you deserve to be happy with someone like Brianna. I quite like her. So don’t you dare let her get away.” Nadia elbowed him playfully, but then her voice turned somber. “If you care for her the way it seems you do, you’ll never forgive yourself if you let her go.”

  Wes massaged the knot that had formed at the back of his neck.

  If only it was that easy.

  Chapter 18

  Brianna stood at the window taking a mental picture of the view from Wesley’s flat. She was trying to memorize it and everything about their past two weeks together in London.

  The soft strains of Duke Ellington and John Coltrane’s version of “In a Sentimental Mood” drifted from the multi-room audio wired throughout his flat. She’d been listening to the song on repeat. It was Wesley’s favorite classic jazz standard. She’d heard it often in the weeks they’d been together, each time with more appreciation than the time before.

  On their final night in London together, the song captured her mood brilliantly. Ellington’s ethereal piano notes combined with Coltrane’s smooth, somber sax made for a brooding, introspective piece reflective of both joy and sadness.

  Exactly what she was feeling now.

  Her chest filled with warmth as she reflected on the two weeks they’d spent together in London. Yet, a pervasive sense of sadness made her heart ache.

  They’d never be in London together again. The city that had originally brought them together.

  She inhale
d the unbuttoned blue oxford shirt she wore over her bra and panties. The same shirt he’d been wearing before they’d stripped each other naked and made love.

  “I’m officially packed and ready for our early morning departure. I’m surprised you’re not asleep.” Wes joined her at the window.

  “Committing this remarkable view to memory.” Bree fiddled with the collar of the shirt, hoping Wesley hadn’t caught her sniffing its scent moments earlier. They’d shared so many special moments in London. Moments in which they’d grown closer.

  London was now inextricably linked with Wesley Adams.

  “It isn’t as if you’ll never return. To London, I mean.” His gaze drifted from hers. They were silent for a moment before he shifted the topic. “I’ve obviously convinced you of the many virtues of ‘In a Sentimental Mood.’”

  “It’s brilliant. Evocative of so many powerful emotions.”

  “Come here.” Wes moved toward the center of the room and extended his hand. When Bree joined him, he took her hand in his and looped an arm around her waist. “Dance with me.”

  His soft, intimate plea filled her body with heat. A charge of electricity ran along her skin.

  She swayed with Wes, her ear pressed to his chest, listening to the thud of his heart as it beat against his strong chest. Her eyes drifted closed for a moment as they swayed and turned about the room ever so slightly with each step.

  His chin propped on her head, Wes cradled her closer, neither of them speaking.

  The connection they shared was more than sex. More than friendship.

  So why was Wes so determined to walk away from the very thing they both seemed to want and need? What was Wes really afraid of?

  Bree wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come. To quiet the pervasive questions that danced in her head, she shifted attention back to the song.

  “You said Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk are your favorite jazz artists. So why is a collaboration between Ellington and Coltrane your favorite jazz song?”

  “Aside from the brilliance of the collaboration and the complexity of the piece?” Wes’s voice rumbled against her ear. “Got my own sentimental connection to the song.” He paused so long it seemed he’d decided against divulging it. “My favorite memory of my parents is them dancing to this song.”

  “That’s beautiful.” Something about his admission made tears instantly well in her eyes. Bree wasn’t sure if she was moved by the poignancy of the story, or by his willingness to share it with her.

  “Your mom showed me some old family pictures.” Bree hadn’t mentioned it before because Wes wasn’t inclined to reminisce about his dad. But tonight, he seemed open to it. “Lena is gorgeous now, but she looked like a glamorous movie star in all her photos. And you guys all look so happy.”

  “In the beginning, my mom was, and I think my dad wanted to be. But his passion was music, being on the road traveling. Maybe he really did love us. But he loved music and life on the road more.”

  “Wes, I’m sorry.” She squeezed him tightly. Bree understood the pain and rejection Wes felt. It was a pain that could only truly be understood by someone who’d endured it, too.

  “Don’t be.” Wes slid his hands beneath the shirt she wore. His rough hands glided along her warm skin. He traced a scar from an old surgery with his thumb.

  Bree tensed, self-conscious about the ugly scar. She’d had it incorporated into the tattoo on her side to camouflage the imperfection.

  “Does it hurt?” His soft, warm gaze met hers.

  “No, and neither does this one.” She slipped the shirt from her shoulder enough to reveal a scar that remained from her shoulder surgery a few years ago. “But they’ve ruined my bikini game.” She tried to keep her breathing even as she maintained his heated gaze.

  “I assure you that nothing could possibly mar the sight of you in a bikini. Besides, with a one-piece like the one you wore in my hot tub that day...who needs one?” He gripped her bare waist and pulled her closer to him again as he leaned in and whispered in her ear. “By the way, that swimsuit...you weren’t playing fair. A man with less willpower would’ve caved.”

  “Your concept for the tournament was best, so it’s good you were strong enough to resist my charms.” She glided a hand up his bare chest. “But I won when it really counted.”

  “I assume you’re talking about when I gave in on other aspects of the tournament—like the stage layout and the celebrities we invited.” His sexy mouth curved in a knowing grin that did wicked things to her. Made her want to do wicked things to him.

  “Then, too.” Bree’s cheeks tightened as she tried to hold back a smirk.

  Wes kissed her, tightening his grip on her waist as one hand drifted down to squeeze her bottom, pulling her hard against the ridge beneath the fly of his jeans.

  She parted her lips and he slipped his warm tongue inside her mouth. Her heart beat faster and her temperature rose as he kissed her hard and deep, with a passion that made her dizzy with want.

  Wes turned her around and slipped the shirt from her shoulders. He loosened her bra and let it drift to the floor. When he teased her hardened nipples, her spine stiffened and she sucked in a breath.

  He turned her head, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss that made her core pulse. Wes trailed a hand down her belly, slipping it inside her panties, damp with her desire for him. He teased the bundle of nerves as she moved against his hand. Her heart beat faster as pleasure built in her core. When he pulled his hand away, she released an involuntary whimper, desperate for release.

  His eyes met hers, his chest heaving. What she saw there made her weak with want. Wes’s gaze radiated heat, passion and raw emotion.

  His gaze mirrored everything she’d been feeling. An emotion she hadn’t wanted to name. One that felt a lot like love. And looked like what she saw reflected in Wesley’s eyes.

  Wes took her to his bed and made love to her. It was intensely passionate, but also deeply emotional, in a way it hadn’t been before. Things had shifted between them.

  Body trembling and her climax building as he held her gaze, something suddenly became very clear.

  She wanted to be his. Now and always.

  He seemed to want it, to ache for it, too.

  Bree blurted out the thing that was on her heart. The one thing she hadn’t wanted to say aloud.

  “Wes, I love you.”

  Wes, still recovering from his own release, seemed stunned by Bree’s admission.

  She’d read him wrong. Had seen what she so desperately wanted to see.

  Wes lay beside her, awkward silence stretching between them, making the seconds feel like minutes. Finally, he turned on his side, his head propped on his fist. “Bree, I—I...”

  “It’s okay.” Bree sat up abruptly, her words accompanied by a nervous laugh that only seemed to make him pity her. She dragged her fingers through her hair. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was just...you know.” She swiped a finger beneath her eye. “Let’s talk about something else while I pretend not to be embarrassed that I just said that.”

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Bree.” He stroked her arm. “It isn’t you, I swear. I just can’t—”

  “Please...don’t.” She inhaled deeply, then forced a painful smile as tears sprung from her eyes. She quickly wiped them away. “Let’s talk about something else. Anything. Please.”

  “Okay.” He sat up, too. “Can I get you a glass of wine or something?”

  “Wine would be great. Thank you.”

  While he moved about the kitchen, Bree turned on the bedside lamp, retrieved her underwear and slipped on a T-shirt and a pair of his boxers, since her pajamas were already packed in her luggage. She sat in one of the chairs near the window in his bedroom.

  “The French Bordeaux Sauternes we bought at Borou
gh Market.” He handed her a glass.

  Her hand trembled slightly as she accepted the glass. She took a long sip. Concentrated on the balance of sweetness and acidity. The flavor notes of apricot and honey. Anything but the fact that she’d just admitted to Wes that she loved him.

  * * *

  Wes joined her in the sitting area by the window, the space where he often sat and read in the mornings before he would start his day.

  He swallowed hard. The words he wanted to say lodged painfully in his throat.

  I love you, too.

  He had no business saying them. Wouldn’t give her false hope.

  “You wanted to talk about something else.” He set his glass on the small, shabby chic table between them. A salvaged piece he’d held onto from his college days because it was the first piece of furniture his mother had ever refinished. “So tell me, what’s next in your career?”

  Bree narrowed her gaze at him. It was another loaded topic. He’d known that before he asked her.

  She’d been playing volleyball professionally for well over a decade. With each passing year and each new injury, speculation about the end of her career swirled. Something it seemed Bex was experiencing as she fought to come back from her latest injury.

  Still, he really wanted to know. Since they both seemed prone to deep introspection and spontaneous confession tonight, it seemed the perfect time to inquire.

  “I hope to play a few more years. So now’s the time for me to begin the transition from professional volleyball player to whatever comes next.”

  “And what is that?” Wes wasn’t satisfied with her non-answer. “Will the volleyball camps be your full-time pursuit once you’ve retired?”

  “That’s what Bex wants.”

  “But what does Brianna want?” His voice softened.

  “I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “Volleyball has been my entire life since I was in middle school. I’ve sacrificed so much to be the best at what I do. I’m not completely sure where I go from there. Professionally speaking.”