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The Hot-Blooded Groom
Emma Darcy
“I want you, Sunny York.”
Bryce cupped her face in his hands as he continued, “I’d marry you right this minute if I could.” His eyes blazed into hers, commanding her full attention.
Bryce’s desire for her sizzled into Sunny’s bloodstream, bringing a vibrancy that reenergized her whole body.
“Then I will…I will marry you, Bryce,” she heard herself say, as though the words were drawn from a place she was barely conscious of, yet she knew even as she said them, she wouldn’t take them back.
This is Australian author Emma Darcy’s 75th Harlequin Presents
novel. Her intense, passionate, fast-paced writing style has made Emma Darcy hugely popular with readers: she’s sold nearly 60 million copies of her books worldwide. Emma is also the author of the international bestseller The Secrets Within, published by MIRA
Books.
The Hot-Blooded Groom
Emma Darcy
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER ONE
‘I WANT you married.’
Bryce Templar gritted his teeth. It wasn’t the first time his father had made this demand. Undoubtedly it wouldn’t be the last, either. But he hadn’t come out of his way to visit the old man, still convalescing from his recent heart operation, to have another argument about his bachelor state.
He kept his gaze trained on the view, ignoring the contentious issue. The sun was setting, adding even more brilliant shades of colour to the stunning red rocks of Sedona. His father’s winter residence was certainly sited to capture one of the most striking panoramas nature had to offer, here in the Arizona desert. And of course, communing with nature was another thing Will Templar preached—spiritual peace, clean air, clean living…
‘Are you hearing me, boy?’
Bryce unclenched his jaw and slid his father a derisive look. ‘I’m not a boy, Dad.’
‘Still acting like one,’ came the aggressive grumble. ‘Here you are with your hair going grey and you’re not settled with a woman yet.’
‘I’m only thirty-four. Hardly over the hill. And you went grey in your thirties. It’s genetic.’
It wasn’t the only physical aspect of his father he’d inherited. They were both well over six feet tall, big men, though his father had lost quite a bit of weight over the past year and was looking somewhat gaunt in the face. They had the same strong nose, the same determined mouth, closely set ears, and while his father’s hair was now white, it was still as thick as his own.
The only feature he’d inherited from his mother was her eyes—heavier lidded than his father’s and green instead of grey. Will Templar’s eyes had been described in print as steely and incisive, but right now they were smoking at Bryce with irritable impatience.
‘I was married to your mother in my twenties.’
‘People married earlier in those days, Dad.’
‘You’re not even looking for a wife.’ He shook an admonishing finger. ‘You think I don’t hear about your bed-hopping with starlets in L.A.? Getting laid indiscriminately doesn’t sit well with me, son.’
Bryce barely stifled a sigh as he thought, Here comes the clean living lecture. ‘I don’t bed-hop and I’m not indiscriminate in my choice of playmate,’ he bit out. Hoping to avoid a diatribe on morals, he added, ‘You know how busy I am. I just don’t have the time to put into a relationship what women want out of it.’
It brought his father up from his lounger in a burst of angry energy. ‘Don’t tell me women don’t want marriage. They all want marriage. It’s not difficult to get a woman to say yes to that. And I’m living proof of it with five wives behind me.’
All of them walking away with a bundle, Bryce thought cynically. Except his mother who died before she’d got around to divorce. The billion dollar empire of Templar Resources could absorb the cost of hundreds of wives. It just so happened Bryce didn’t like the idea of being taken for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow ride.
If a woman wanted him…fine. Especially if he wanted her. But the occasional pleasure in bed did not warrant a gold ring and a gold passport to a hefty divorce settlement. Apart from which, he certainly didn’t need the aggravation of a demanding wife. He much preferred a walkaway situation.
‘You get married, Bryce, or I’ll put Damian in control of business, right over your head. Make him CEO until you do get a wife. That will free up your time,’ his father threatened.
‘And give you another heart attack when he messes up,’ Bryce mocked, knowing his half-brother’s limited vision only too well.
‘I mean it, boy! Time’s slipping by and I’m feeling my mortality these days. I want to see you married, and married soon. With a grandchild on the way, too. Within a year. Just get out there and choose a wife. You hear me?’
He was going red in the face. Concerned about his father’s blood pressure, Bryce instantly set aside the argument. ‘I hear you, Dad.’
‘Good! Then do it! And find a woman like your mother. She had a brain, as well as being beautiful.’ He sank back onto the cushions of the lounger, taking quick shallow breaths. The high colour gradually receded. ‘Worst day of my life when your mother died.’
Bryce couldn’t remember it. He’d only been three years old. What he remembered was the succession of stepmothers who had waltzed into and out of his childhood and adolescence.
‘Got to think of the children,’ his father muttered. ‘Damian’s mother was a featherhead. Charming, sexy, but without a thought worth listening to.’ His eyes closed and his voice dropped to a mumble. ‘Damian’s a good boy. Not his fault he hasn’t got your brain. At least he’s guidable.’
Watching fatigue lines deepen on his face, making him look older than his sixty years, Bryce was troubled by the thought there was more to his father’s remark on feeling his mortality than he was letting on. Just how bad was his heart condition?
While they’d had this argument over marriage before, there’d never been a time-frame stipulated.
Within a year.
And the threat about Damian—empty though it was—added more weight to the demand, carrying a measure of desperation.
The sun had slipped below the horizon as they’d talked. The massive red rocks were darkening with shadows. Nothing stayed the same for long, Bryce reflected, and if time was running out for his father…well, why not please him by getting married?
It shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
He wouldn’t let it be.
CHAPTER TWO
SUNNY YORK’s heart did not leap with joy when she spotted her fiancé shoving through the crowd of delegates waiting to enter the conference room. His appearance sent a shudder of distaste down her spine and she found herself gritting her teeth as a host of blistering criticisms clamoured to be expressed.
It was the last day of the conference, the last day to try and smooth over the bad impressions he’d made on others, and the most important day for her, which Derek knew perfectly well. And he turned up like this?
She shook her head in disgust, thinking of how early she had risen this morning, determined on presenting a perfect, go-getting image. It had taken an hour to get her unruly mane of rippling curls under reasonable control, carefully blow-drying out any tendency to frizz and ensuring the whole tawny mass of it looked decently groomed. Her make-up was positive without being overdone, and her sharp yellow suit was a statement of vibrant confidence.
There was absolutely nothing sharp about Derek. His suit looked rumpled, as though he’d dropped it on the floor and dragged it on again. His eyes were bloodshot, he’d nicked his chin shaving, and he was obviously in no state to get anything out of the morning session. She actually bristled with rejection as he hooked his arm around hers.
‘Made it,’ he said, as though it were an achievement she should be grateful for.
Never mind that he’d broken every arrangement for them to spend private time together. Turning up for her sales presentation did not make up for treating her like nothing all week. And turning up like this was the last straw to Sunny.
Her sherry-brown eyes held no welcoming warmth as she tersely replied, ‘I expected to see you at breakfast.’
He leaned over confidentially. ‘Had it at the roulette table. Free drinks, free food all night. They sure look after you at these casinos and I was running hot.’
Sunny’s heart felt very cold. ‘I’m amazed you tore yourself away.’
He grimaced as though she was acting like a pain to him. ‘Don’t nag. I’m here, aren’t I?’
Four days they’d been in Las Vegas and he’d been gambling every spare minute, even skipping conference sessions when he thought he could get away with it. ‘I take it the hot run ended,’ she bit out, barely controlling a fiery flash of temper at his criticism of her attitude.
‘Nope. I won a packet,’ he slurred smugly. ‘But I happened to see the big man come in last night and if he’s showing this morning…’
‘What big man?’ she snapped, losing all patience with him.
‘The head of the whole shebang. Bryce Templar himself. He dropped into the L.A. conference last year to give us a pep talk, remember?’
Sunny remembered. The CEO of Templar Resources was the most gorgeous hunk she’d ever seen, almost a head taller than she was and with a big muscular frame that telegraphed all man to her, eminently lust-worthy, but so far beyond her reach, he was strictly dream material.
She hadn’t heard a word he’d said at L.A. She’d sat in the audience, imagining how it might be in bed with all that strong maleness being driven by the charismatic energy he was putting out in his address to them.
His father had founded Templar Resources, back in 1984, and it was now the largest networking company in the world, producing and servicing software in most languages. Obviously the son was building on that, not just inheriting his position, which added even more power to his sex appeal. On any male evolution scale he was definitely the top rung.
‘Guess he’ll do the same today,’ Derek babbled on. ‘Thought I’d better turn up for it.’
Sunny cast a severely jaundiced look at the man she’d cast in the future role of her husband and father to the family she wanted. Having seen her two younger sisters married and producing adorable babies, she’d become hopelessly clucky, and when Derek had walked into her life, he’d seemed the answer to her dreams.
Those dreams had received an awful lot of tarnishing this week, and right at this moment, the reminder of a man as powerfully impressive as Bryce Templar did nothing to shine them up again.
Derek was the same height as herself—if she wore flat heels—and quite handsome on better days when his blue eyes were clear and his face more alive. His dark blond hair was still damp from a very recent shower so the sun-bleached streaks weren’t showing so much this morning. He usually kept his rather lean physique toned up with sessions in the gym but he hadn’t been anywhere near the hotel’s health club this week.
All in all, he was much less a man in Sunny’s eyes than he’d been four days ago. Whether this gambling fever was a temporary madness or not, he’d completely lost her respect, and she’d hand him back his diamond ring right now, except it might cause a scene that she could do without in front of the other delegates whose respect she wanted when she gave her presentation in just another hour’s time.
Deeply disillusioned and angry with the assumption she would overlook everything, she unhooked her arm from Derek’s as they moved into the conference room and gave him a stony warning. ‘Don’t think you can lean on me if you fall asleep.’
‘Oooh, we are uptight, aren’t we?’ he mocked, looking uglier by the second. ‘Nervous about performing in front of the CEO?’
‘No. I just don’t want to prop you up,’ she grated.
‘Fine! Then I’ll sit at the back and you won’t have to worry about it,’ he sniped, sheering away from her side in a blatant huff.
Sunny walked on, rigidly ignoring him. No doubt a back-row seat suited Derek very well. If Bryce Templar didn’t show, he could easily slip outside and get on with his gambling. Though if he thought other people besides herself hadn’t noticed what was going on, he was a fool.
The managing director of the Sydney branch had already commented on his absence from conference sessions, as well as his failure to attend any of the social functions at night. Derek might be considered a top consultant but playing the corporate game was important, too. He was earning a big black mark here in Las Vegas, not only on a personal level, but a professional one, as well.
Still inwardly fuming over his behaviour, Sunny made her way to the very front row of tables in the auditorium, where she was entitled to sit as one of the presenters this morning. Having settled herself and greeted the other delegates in the team she’d been attached to all week, she did her best to push Derek’s disturbing behaviour out of her mind, concentrating on listening to the buzz about Bryce Templar’s arrival on the scene.
Had he come to announce some new technologies being developed by the company? Was he here to reward someone for outstanding performance? Speculation was running rife.
It ended abruptly as the man himself made his entrance, accompanied by the conference organisers. A hush fell over the room, attention galvanised on the CEO of Templar Resources. He took the podium without any introduction but whatever he said floated right over Sunny’s head.
From a purely physical viewpoint, she couldn’t help thinking that Bryce Templar had to have the best gene pool in the whole world, and if she could choose any one man to be the father of the baby she’d love to have, he would top the stud-list.
The woman in yellow kept attracting Bryce’s eye. She was the only spot of colour amongst a sea of grey and black business clothing. Since she was seated right at the front, he couldn’t miss seeing her, and as women went, she was definitely worth a second look.
Great hair. Lush wide mouth. Big dreamy eyes. A strong impression of warmth, which stayed with him as he left the podium, niggling at the bitterness his lawyer had stirred with the call about yet another change Kristen was demanding in the prenuptial agreement. His fiancée was fast dissipating any warmth he’d felt for her.
As he sat down at the official table with the conference organisers, he reflected on the black irony of having thought he’d picked the ideal wife. Kristen Parrish had enough beauty and brains to meet his father’s criteria, plus a very stylish career as an interior decorator, which meant she wouldn’t be hanging on having a husband dance attendance all the time. She had a business of her own to run. Which suited Bryce just fine.
The problem was, her sharp brain was proving to be one hell of a calculating machine, and Bryce fiercely resented the way she was manipulating the situation. Just one mention that he wanted a child, preferably within the first year of marriage, and she’d started using it as a bargaining chip to ensure she would always have funds to raise their child should the marriage fail. She was literally bleeding him for all she could get, and if it wasn’t for his father, he’d tell her to get lost.
Then she’d probably sue him for breach of promise.
And would he find anyone better?
His gaze flicked to the woman in yellow and caught her looking at him. Her head instantly jerked away, thick dark lashes swept down, and her cheeks bloomed with heat. Quite an amazing blush. She had to be in her late twenties or early thirties, and very committed to a career to be here at this conference. Hardly the shy type. She wouldn’t be wearing yellow if she was shy.
Her cheeks were still burning, lending even more vivid colour and warmth to her face. It was a very appealing, feminine face, finely boned, though not quite perfect with the slightly tip-tilted nose. Her hair drew his attention again, copper and corn colours tangled through a tousled riot of waves and curls, the thick mass of it falling from a centre parting and tumbling down over her shoulders. It looked…very touchable, unlike Kristen’s ice-blond sculptured bob.
