The Beaumont Brothers: The Complete Series Read online

  She stepped into the room hesitantly, panic cinching her chest. Oh God. Who on Earth could he be talking to? She shut the door as quietly as she could so it wouldn’t disturb his conversation.

  “Sure. Sure. You know, this is a massive favor, Grant.”

  Her stomach dropped to her feet. Fucking Grant. The office manager. How in the actual hell had Alistair gotten through to Grant when they were three thousand miles away and he’d lost his phone on a mountain?

  Jess walked a bit closer to the bedroom, where Alistair’s smooth British baritone grew louder. “You know I’ll pay you back. You pick the prize. See you in about a week.”

  She inhaled sharply when Alistair appeared suddenly in the doorway, surprise crossing his face. “Marigold. You’re back.”

  “Hey!” She smiled brightly, trying to wipe the tension from her face. Please God, tell me this man did not just undo all my hard work in one conversation. “Who were you talking to?”

  “Grant.” He held up her phone. Of course. She’d left it behind, needing a break from the screen and the constant scrolling through news feeds for any mumble about the company or Alistair’s accident. She just hadn’t imagined he’d appropriate it. “The office manager,” he added with a smirk.

  “Yes, I know Grant.” She reached for her phone, and he handed it over. She squeezed it tightly, vowing to add a security password. “How’s he doing?”

  “Oh, quite well. He’s sending me off a replacement laptop today. What a swell chap, right?”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s very kind and efficient of him.” She set her bag down gently, letting the news percolate through her. “Did you tell him what happened?”

  “The crash? Well, not exactly. I told him I lost my phone on the slopes, hence the call from your phone.”

  She nodded. “Did he ask why I was here?”

  Alistair shook his head. “No. Should he have?”

  “No.” A long silence hung between them. She headed for the couch, already eager to lie down and sleep away the rest of the day. “Did you tell him about your memory loss?”

  He snorted. “I didn’t mention it, no. Seemed a bit…inappropriate for a boss to mention that he doesn’t immediately recall his employee.” Bitterness rang in his voice. “Don’t they all know by now?”

  “No, Alistair. They don’t.” She nibbled on her lip. “I didn’t think you’d want your employees to know. For, you know, morale and whatnot.”

  “Right.” Alistair sighed, easing onto the couch across from her. The crackling fire across the room was the only noise for a long time. “I’ll just be glad when the laptop gets here. I’m eager to get reacquainted with my work. And who knows…it might all come flooding back.”

  “You’re right. It might.” Her heart rate had eased up a bit now; she felt less like puking and more like she could continue with the original plan. “It was a great idea to call the office and get it sent here.” She pushed off the couch, pressing a kiss to his forehead before heading to the kitchenette. She’d ordered a small assortment of groceries to be delivered early that morning, so she could cook a few of Alistair’s favorite meals. “Are you ready for lunch?”

  “Is my personal chef reporting for duty?” He craned his neck to look at her, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. Her breath caught in her throat, and she paused midstride to watch him, completely captivated. This man… She blinked hard, pushing onward to the kitchen. He had mesmerizing qualities, a type of magic that could ensnare and enchant in equal measure. She’d been fascinated—and then repelled—by his charms since the beginning.

  But only now was she realizing that the repulsion had been a defense mechanism. She shouldn’t want the boss, so she had to dislike him. Except she did like him…too much. And now she was defenseless against all those charms that had probably helped snag him countless lovers just in the time that she’d known him.

  “I’m making a classic favorite today,” she said. “Something you fell in love with when you moved to Seattle and have been touting the benefits of ever since.”

  “Ooooh. I wonder what it could be?”

  “I won’t tell you until after the first bite. But you’ll probably guess long before then.” She smiled to herself as she took out the ingredients for grilled cheese and tomato soup. Such a simple, American classic, but for whatever reason, Alistair had remained enthralled. They’d held a Grilled Cheese Olympics once in the office as part of a morale building event. Hers won by a landslide, and he’d said that her special touch made it a million times better than their other colleagues’ attempts.

  Little did he know the secret was garlic salt and feta, but no need to reveal her secrets. Especially now.

  She hummed as she worked, putting the soup to simmer before buttering hearty slices of whole grain bread. After a while lost in her own world, a heat pressed against her. Alistair’s voice brushed across her ear.

  “You’re so sexy when you cook,” he whispered, his arms encircling her waist. “I could watch you all day. But I wouldn’t be able to keep myself off you.”

  She stiffened at first, but swallowed her surprise, relaxing into his arms. God, he felt good wrapped around her. “That sounds fine to me.”

  He chuckled throatily, his palms pressed against the tops of her thighs. “Or maybe I shouldn’t distract the chef?”

  “No, you can distract the chef,” she said before she could think better of it. “Just for a little bit.”

  He made a growling noise, spinning her around and pinning her by the hips against the countertop. Pure heat radiated from him, the kind that told her exactly what he was after. His mouth covered hers, prompting a juicy, passionate kiss. His hand crept up to cup her face, his other hand knotting in the back of her hair.

  “Seducing the chef might be a wise move,” he murmured against her neck, trailing his tongue down to her collar bone.

  “It might enhance the…flavor profile,” she gasped, squeezing her eyes shut as his head dipped to the valley between her breasts. His soft kisses were mind blowing. Did he kiss every woman like this? Certainly no other man’s kisses ever inspired this reaction in her. She inhaled sharply when his hands hooked beneath her ass cheeks, hoisting her onto the counter. As if by reflex, she hooked her ankles behind him. He nestled perfectly between her legs.

  And that’s when she realized the hardness she felt there was most definitely not from a belt buckle. It was Alistair’s cock, hard and seeking, pushed up against the most sensitive area on her body. She whimpered. Holy hell, there was no denying him, not with this deadly amount of desire pumping through her veins. She’d avoided the temptation for so long through sheer distraction and workaholism. But maybe that had been dumb. Maybe she’d been denying herself something that her being genuinely needed, like a healthy gulp of fresh of air.

  “I know, Marigold, you need it too,” he cooed softly, his kisses trailing up her neck. He tugged at her ear lobe with his teeth, which sent a shock wave of lust through her. Her thighs tensed around him. Maybe screwing the boss wasn’t such a bad idea after all…would he really complain once his memory came back?

  “I should really finish lunch,” she said, but her voice lacked conviction. To hell with lunch. She wanted Alistair naked and between her legs.

  His gravelly laugh made her nipples into two tight points. His hands wandered up to the warmth beneath her workout shirt, toying with the hem of her bra.

  “Lunch can happen whenever we want it.” He ground his pelvis against her, and she let out a strangled moan, foreign to her own ears.

  As if on cue, the pot of soup began boiling over. She swore, pushing against Alistair to rescue it before it made a huge mess.

  “It’s a metaphor you know,” he said coolly, leaning against the countertop. “It’s my passion for you. Bubbling over.”

  She laughed as she held the pot above the burner, letting it settle down before replacing the pan and lowering the heat. “That’s smooth. If I didn’t know you already, I would instantly sleep
with you.”

  He winked, rubbing his palm between his legs. “But this still makes me dizzy.”

  A puff of air escaped her—actual disappointment? She should be relieved. “We gotta ease into it.”

  He groaned, making a show of heading back to the couch. “I know. I’ll go over here and be a good boy now.”

  She smirked as she stirred the soup then returned to buttering the slices of bread. Alistair’s firm heat between her legs wouldn’t leave her; he was all she could see and taste as she browned up two perfect grilled cheese sandwiches.

  Once their lunches were settling happily in both their bellies, Alistair looked calm and satisfied. He lounged on the couch next to her, eyeing her with a mischievous smile.

  “That’s one of the best sandwiches I’ve had in my life.”

  “Not the first time I’ve heard that, sweets.”

  He rubbed his belly, letting his head loll back. “Only one thing could make this day better.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Fucking you until I go blind.”

  Her cheeks lit up, so hot that she could barely maintain eye contact with him.

  “When I talk like that do you always blush?” he asked.

  “Usually, yes,” she choked out. They were the hottest words anyone had ever said to her. Coming from this British god himself.

  “It’s so cute it just makes me want you even more,” he said, his voice a cool purr. He intertwined their fingers, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

  “Well we shouldn’t fuck until you go blind,” she said, her mind buzzing as she slapped playfully at his arm. “Amnesia and blindness all in one go…that’s a lot at once, don’t you think?”

  His laughter bellowed through the room, the type of raw laugh she always overheard during his personal calls that made her wish she could be the source of it. And now she was. She swallowed a knot of confusion—could she truly be the source of it if he still didn’t remember their actual history?

  Just enjoy it for what it is. A dalliance with your super sexy boss that might very well lead to either the best or worst outcome of your life.

  7

  When Alistair’s laptop arrived at the hotel the next evening, it felt like he’d been handed a secret parcel from the heavens. This computer contained clues about his previous life. Shipped from a B3 subsidiary in France, the laptop came loaded with his work programs but no email client, since they couldn’t get the security protections in order fast enough to enable internet.

  He opened it cautiously, smoothing his hand over the top. Memories came back to him in bits and pieces, but they were mostly just fragments, quick flashes of something that he couldn’t quite make sense of. He didn’t bother telling Jess about them, since he didn’t want to excite her too much. Besides, she seemed to like filling him in. The way her excitement took hold while explaining certain facets of the office or of their lives gave him a special joy. She positively bubbled over, especially when talking about her structured approach to learning languages, like the four she already knew at a conversational level, or playing with her nieces.

  “You are so wholesome,” he commented when he spotted her tending the stone fireplace.

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking about that story you told me with your nieces, when you were at Disneyland,” he said, smiling as he turned the laptop over in his hands. “How you withstood heatstroke and starvation to get them that damn photo with Cinderella.”

  She snorted. “I wouldn’t call it wholesome as much as crazy.”

  “Either way, very noble.”

  She smiled, leaning back onto her heels as she poked at the glowing logs. “There are just some things in life you have to do, even if it kills you. Disney is one of them.”

  “I’ve never been,” he said, then paused. “Or have I?”

  She lifted a brow. “I don’t know, actually. If you have, you’ve never confessed.”

  “I suppose it will remain a mystery then.” The computer pinged as it turned on, and then he was staring at the background image of B3 Engines. “I’m in.”

  He poked around the laptop for a while, taking stock of the work programs and their various functions. Some file templates awaited him, blueprints of engines that were in process or being revised. He stared at the images for so long he lost track of time. Thing made sense, but only vaguely. He understood the blueprints but had a hard time focusing on what he was trying to accomplish with them. And that frustrated him, which forced him to concentrate harder. After what felt like an hour at least, Jess’s voice in the other room interrupted his trance.

  She spoke in soft tones, something like disappointment carrying through the air. He couldn’t quite make out what she was saying, though. A few minutes later, she came into the room looking worried.

  “Is everything okay?” He glanced up at her briefly.

  “Well…my parents won’t be arriving today.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, reminding him of how many hours had passed since last kissing her. He should rectify that. “Their plane was delayed. Again.”

  He furrowed a brow. First it was that Jess had the dates wrong, and now they had another setback. At this rate, their visit together in the mountains would barely last a few days. “Why?”

  “Snowstorm.” She sighed, tossing her cell phone on the couch. “They’re trapped in Paris.”

  “Hm.” Alistair frowned, trying to think of a solution. “Are there any flights making the trip here, or…”

  “None, as of now.” She sunk into the couch. “My mom is freaking out too, she’s such a worry wart. So of course she’s flying off the handle, can’t be calmed down, saying all sorts of crazy things…”

  “Do they have a place to stay while they wait out the storm?”

  “Yeah. They’re getting a hotel.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I’ll call down to the restaurant to cancel the reservation. I guess nothing about this trip is going according to plan.”

  “You’re right about that.” He tapped at the side of his computer while he thought about how to make her feel better. An idea slowly came together. “Let’s go down to dinner tonight anyway.”

  She shrugged. “I guess I could change our reservation from four to two…”

  “Yes. I insist.” He closed the laptop, setting it aside. “And let’s start getting ready.”

  She looked uncertain. “Are you sure—”

  “Yes. I know you were looking forward to taking your parents out to eat, but we can still have a nice meal out of the room without them. It’ll be in their honor. How about that?”

  She cracked a grin, brushing some of those silky dark locks out of her face. “Okay. Sounds good. Should we get all dressed up?”

  “Absolutely.” The sincerity of her smile relieved him, made something feel deeply right inside. Pleasing her, making her feel good, made him feel good. He kissed her forehead on his way to the bathroom to take a shower. An impromptu date night seemed in order now, especially since the arrival of his work computer felt like another cause to celebrate. His life would come back together, dammit. Even if he had to relearn every single detail about his previous existence.

  He soaped himself up quickly, ignoring his throbbing cock as his thoughts turned to Jess. It wouldn’t be right to jack off in the shower…not when he was so looking forward to getting to know his fiancée all over again. He wet his bottom lip, fisting himself once as he imagined the healthy curve of her ass when she bent over, the tight peak of her nipples when his hands started roaming her body. Waiting longer to attempt an orgasm might be wise, but almost a week trapped with this bombshell, not allowed to get off, was a torture all its own.

  Tonight, he’d make the case for taking her all the way. She’d see—he was ready. And she’d been ready since day one.

  Jess slipped into the bathroom after him, her eyes stuck on his chest as he sauntered past with the towel tied loosely around his waist.

  “My face is up here,” he teased, pointing at his face.<
br />
  She shoved at him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to objectify you. I’ll punish myself in here.” She sent him a sexy look and then shut the door, locking it with a loud click. He knocked softly on the door.

  “Now, now, darling,” he said. “No need to punish yourself alone. I can help. I can bend you over the bathtub and give you a right good spanking.”

  She giggled from inside. “Maybe later.”

  He groaned. “Are we talking dessert?”

  “If you’re lucky.”

  He smirked, whipping off the towel. At least they were both heading in the same direction. He was waking up with a hardon every morning, which meant it was more than time to re-consummate this relationship. The woman’s pouty lips alone demanded it.

  He dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of pressed slate gray pants he’d found in his luggage, along with a black button-up shirt. When Jess breezed out of the bathroom, her face was meticulously made up—sultry but tasteful—and she had styled her brown tresses into a loose updo.

  “You look stunning.” He reached for her, snagging her on her way to the small wardrobe.

  “I haven’t even put my clothes on yet.”

  “Even more stunning.”

  She laughed, swatting at him, and reached for a black dress on a hanger. She slid it over her head, and it swished softly into place. He ran his hand over her hip, humming appreciatively. “The most stunning yet.”

  They finished dressing and headed downstairs to the lodge lobby, arm in arm. The way Jess smiled at him told him the dinner date had been a smart move on his part. The lodge-styled restaurant was the most elegant cabin he’d ever seen, with an enormous stone fireplace on one end, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows that tapered upward into a cathedral ceiling. A cheery hostess led them to their table tucked away on the far edge near one of the impressive windows, overlooking the snow-covered pine trees.

  “It’s really coming down,” Jess murmured, eyebrows knit together as she looked outside. “If they can even get into Austria at all…maybe they won’t be able to make it here.”