He groaned her name. “Ella, love, you’re killing me.”

“I’m trying,” she cried, thinking he was impatient.

“Not that... never that.” One of his hands joined her, brushing her fingers to the side. “Take all the time you need. I’m here to serve you.”

He made a believer out of her. Never picking up the pace, never slowing down either, until she was slick with sweat and her arousal ran down her thighs.

Every inch of her body was on fire for him. Every inch of her body craved his touch. He surged deeper than before, his fingers pinching her clit at the same time, and she screamed his name, pushing back against him.

He groaned hers as he joined her, as they came together endlessly.

The world went out of focus for a minute, and then he was pulling out of her to dispose of the condom.

A minute later, he was back, turning her over and finding her mouth.

He kissed her. Slowly. Tenderly. As if they had been lovers since the very beginning of time. The effect was devastating.

“Blake, I—”

He shushed her, licking his way down her chest, wrapping his hot mouth around a sensitive nipple and sucking hard. Her back arched, her fingers fisting in his hair as he paid the other one the same attention before nibbling his way down her stomach.

“What are you doing?”

His blue eyes were sinful. “Want to make sure you fully enjoyed your massage today.” Then his wide shoulders were between her legs, his head dipping, and his tongue on the most intimate part of her.

In no time at all, he had her in a frenzy, had her mindless, and chanting his name. Her body tightened and her legs trembled.

“If I had another condom, I’d fuck you right now,” he said, lifting his head briefly. “But since I don’t...”

His teeth scraped against her skin, and he slowly slid three fingers inside of her. He curled them and she came, her mouth wide open and her eyes tightly closed.

“What are you doing to me?” she asked as her body became her own again.

He stood and grabbed a blanket from the basket in the floor beside the table before pulling her to a sitting position and wrapping it around her.

“I’ve been making love to you,” he said finally. “You’ve enjoyed what we’ve done, yes?”

She nodded, her heart sinking. It was ridiculous to want a different answer than that. It was ridiculous to be having sex with him at all, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

All right, so that wasn’t exactly true. She wanted him, and he’d given her ample opportunity to say no.

But simply enjoying herself? She’d more than enjoyed herself over the past three days. Honestly, she loved being with him. She loved the way he doted on her, the way he touched her, and talked to her. She loved—

Oh God.

He kissed her forehead and then turned away, pulling on a pair of board shorts. “Enjoy your afternoon, love. I’ll see you at the rehearsal dinner.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing would come out.

When Ella didn’t respond, he paused and sliced his gaze her way, finding her pale and frozen. She looked as though she’d seen a ghost.

Or been reminded of the real reason why they were here—to see the man she loved marry another woman.

Perhaps he’d been mad in thinking he could woo her in only eight dates, but they had spent nearly every working day together for almost four years. Shouldn’t that count for something? He knew everything about her, down to where she was from and that she always wore open-toed shoes the day after she had a pedicure.

“Oh-okay,” she replied, and then began to dress.

He stalked out of the tent, furious. Red filled his vision, and he ignored the smiles and waves of familiar faces.

“Where you going, Your Highness?” Drew intercepted him by the snack bar.

“Fuck off.” Blake pushed past him, but Drew grabbed his arm. Only years of discipline prevented Blake from nearly killing him.

“Let’s have a chat.”

Not wanting to make a scene, Blake allowed himself to be led by Drew to a private table situated under a palm tree. Blake crossed his arms and sat down, refusing to say another word. He didn’t trust himself to say anything cordial to Drew.

“I can’t make you listen to reason, but believe me when I say that you are going about this the wrong way,” Drew said, breaking the silence.

Blake sliced his gaze to his friend. “Are you really in a position to lecture me about how to go the right way when it comes to women?”

“My fuckups are to your benefit.”

Not if he fucked up so much that Hannah left him. Ella would love that. She would—well, he didn’t know exactly what she would do.

“Do tell.”

“I tried making Hannah stay instead of asking her to stay.”

Blake worked his jaw. “I’ve not forced any woman. Ever.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Then tell me what you do mean. Share how you were faithful to the woman you’ve loved since childhood.”

“That’s not fair, Blake.”

“What’s not fair is that you—” Drew clamped his mouth shut. He didn’t want to betray Ella. “It is what it is. I chose to remain alone until the woman I wanted was free. You did not.”

“I hadn’t seen Hannah in a decade. We were kids when I last spoke to her. Again, unfair.”

“So is life.”

Drew stood, his face wreathed in disgust. “Stop making me out to be a villain in a play I had no hand in writing, much less starring in.”

Blake didn’t stop his friend from going. He wanted Drew to leave. “You were never the villain, you git. You’ve always been the bloody hero to her.”

Drew glanced at him. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself and tell her how you really feel, without games, and then come talk to me.”

“I don’t feel much like talking.”

“Good.”

“It’s very good, damn you.”

Drew laughed. “You can’t let me have the last word, can you?”

“Not over this, mate.” Blake stood, and then made his way inside to his hotel room.

Chapter Seven

Once they had rehearsed the ceremony a few times, the wedding planner allowed them to break for dinner. At least, Ella hoped that was what the woman had planned.

Her stomach growled.

If not, then she would stage a protest in the kitchen.

“If everyone would follow me,” a server announced, and Ella wanted to kiss the woman in relief.

As one, the group began to walk, as eager for dinner as she was.

Despite the awkwardness of earlier this afternoon, Ella wanted to talk to Blake. She wasn’t sure why he’d stalked away after they’d had sex... made love. Whatever. But she needed to find out. Something had changed between them, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

The only thing she was sure of—she didn’t hate him anymore. There were no feelings of animosity or dislike that made her see red whenever she heard his voice. In fact, it was almost the opposite.

“My, my, Ms. Simpson, don’t you look positively delectable in your dress?” Coming up from behind her, Blake gave her right cheek a crude squeeze. “Damn, I want to bite that ass.”

“Stop it.”

“Afraid your lover might see us?” He squeezed her again.

“He’s not my lover, and you are despicable,” Ella hissed, shoving his hand away from her butt. “What’s wrong with you?”

Blake gave her a wicked smile. “That’s not what you said this afternoon, love.”

The reminder of what had transpired between them made her blush. She hated how easily she turned red around him because her blushes showed how vulnerable she was to his insults. His response was most definitely an insult and not a compliment.

“Obviously, I was out of my mind.” To ever think we could work, she added silently.

“Multiple orgasms tend to do that, I hear,” he said loud enough for his voice to carry.

Her palm itched to slap that wicked and cocky smile off his face, but she couldn’t. Andrew was watching... and so was his wife. A woman that Ella had tried desperately to hate, but ended up practically loving. Only the most hardened of hearts wouldn’t be able to recognize that Hannah and Andrew were perfect for one another.