Secrets Of The A-List (episode 8 Of 12)

By Cat Schield

It's the wrong bride for a white wedding!

The venue is perfect, the dress is divine, but Elana Marshall's feet are looking mighty chilly. And she's not the only Marshall with doubts. Rachel may be perfect on paper, but the heart wants what it wants, and Luc can't decide if his wants her. Decisions, decisions. With guests arriving and the Marshalls' reputation on the line, will the happy couple get hitched without a hitch? Or does the Fixer have another last–minute crisis to deal with?

Super Rich. Super Sexy. Super Addictive. Secrets of the A–List – read all 12 episodes!

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Oct 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781489249982

Cat Schield

Cat Schield lives in Minnesota with her daughter, their opiniated Burmese cats and a silly Doberman puppy. Winner of the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart® for series contemporary romance, when she's not writing sexy, romantic stories for Harlequin Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River or in more exotic locales like the Caribbean and Europe. You can find out more about her books at www.catschield.net. 

Book preview

Chapter One

Elana awakened in slow increments, aware of her body’s lethargy and the stiffness of muscles well used. She lay curled on her side, hands tucked against her neck. Sunshine waited on the other side of her eyelids. She burrowed her face into the lavender-scented pillow and gave a soft groan.

She was getting married today.

If she opened her eyes, she’d have to meet reality head-on. Right now, she longed to retreat into the darkness and hold on to last night for as long as possible.

Straining her ears for any sound, she decided she was alone. No sexy snores erupted from the bed beside her. Jarrod was gone. Bastard. The word rolled around in her mind like a caress. He truly was a wicked devil. The way he’d made her beg and plead last night. She’d nearly sobbed with desperation before he’d slid inside her and let her come. She burned at the memory, need flaring between her legs once again. Lust fogged her mind. She never felt anything close to that urgent wildness with Thom. Maybe that wasn’t bad. An orgasm was an orgasm. No need to be driven into frantic, unrelenting madness each time she made love.

The room smelled of musk and Jarrod’s cologne. When she’d flung open the bathroom door and found him standing there, gorgeous, ripped, charismatic and fully aroused, he’d been impossible to resist. She’d called herself every sort of fool even as she dropped to her knees and laid claim to him with her mouth, taking him in the way she knew he loved.

Before her mother had knocked on the door last night, Elana had planned to send Jarrod packing. But when that noise had come from the bathroom and her adrenaline spiked, so had her libido. If it truly was all about the excitement of the forbidden, wouldn’t she be even less able to resist him? Even though she was determined to be faithful to Thom, her addiction to Jarrod was impossible to stop.

Yet she’d managed to say no to Jarrod when he’d demanded she call off the wedding. And when she’d refused, he’d spent the rest of the night showing her why she should.

Elana punched her pillow. Oh, what had she been thinking to let Jarrod stay last night? If only she had been thinking. Instead, she’d let longing and passion overcome her better judgment. But oh, Jarrod’s hands on her. And his mouth. Driving her mad. The aching desire filled her again. She rolled onto her back, fingers sliding through the damp heat between her thighs.

No.

Last night had been goodbye. If he wasn’t going to change, she had to. Today she would speak vows, and she intended to keep them. She intended to be a good wife to Thom. Dear, blessedly unsuspecting Thom. He was a good man. They would have a good marriage. He would be a wonderful father to their children and a doting husband to her.

Abruptly, an image popped into her head. The expression on Rafe’s face last night as he and Thom were talking at the bar flashed in her memory. Did her brother really have feelings for Thom? Could he be in love with her fiancé? It wasn’t possible. She’d misinterpreted the longing look. Perhaps Rafe merely regretted that he had yet to find someone he loved. He hadn’t met anyone right. Besides, Thom wasn’t gay and Rafe had never been attracted to straight men. It was her imagination brought on by prewedding jitters. But the turmoil in her gut didn’t subside. Nor the fact that she was filled with more questions than answers.

Elana shoved off the covers and sat up. Pushing her tangled hair off her face, she glanced at the clock. How could it have gotten so late? Why hadn’t anyone come to wake her before this? Her mother should have been all over her by now.

She rushed into the bathroom for a quick shower. In twenty minutes she needed to be at the spa for the first of her treatments. Massage, hair and makeup. She and her bridesmaids would all be done up in the coordinating autumn colors of her wedding palette. Like yesterday, they’d booked the spa for the entire morning and part of the afternoon. By the time she left there today, she would be relaxed, tranquil and gorgeous.

In five minutes Elana stepped out of the shower and wrapped a thick white towel around her body. She brushed her teeth as the steam cleared from the mirror. When she could see her reflection clearly, she blinked in surprise. Something appeared odd. Her normally unblemished skin had strange blotches around her neck and chest. Was she having an allergic reaction to something? They didn’t itch. She leaned closer to the mirror and gasped.

Those weren’t blotches or reactions. They were hickeys. Jarrod had marked her as clearly as if he’d used a black permanent marker. She stripped off her towel and shrieked as she noticed the numerous discolored circles on her breasts, stomach and the insides of her thighs. Frowning, she tried to recall if she’d noticed what he was doing. Obviously she’d been too preoccupied with his clever fingers making her writhe to notice.

Humiliation flooded her. Between the plunging neckline and the sheer fabric, few of these marks would be concealed by her daring white lace gown. The wedding photos could be touched up, but there were five hundred guests invited. What would everyone think?

Elana raced for her phone. She would give Jarrod a piece of her mind. But another nasty surprise awaited her when she awakened the screen. He’d sent her a text. A photo. A selfie of himself and...was that her breast? The man was impossible. Deleting the picture, she got dressed and headed into the bathroom to see if she could cover up the marks. Her hands