Rent A Husband by Mason Sally

Author:Mason, Sally [Mason, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Romantica
Published: 2013-03-09T04:00:00+00:00

35

When Forrest ushers Darcy into the bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel he sees her blink at the pillared living room, the grand piano and the massive bed visible through lightly frosted bedroom doors.

Porter Pringle is going to choke when he gets this credit card tab.

Serves the bastard right.

“Wow,” Darcy says.

“I seem to recall that Marilyn Monroe stayed in this bungalow while she was shooting Let’s Make Love.”

“It’s gorgeous.”

Forrest opens the doors onto the thick foliage of the garden, allowing in the sweet perfume of hibiscus and blooming bougainvillea.

Popping a bottle of Krug, he fills two flutes and hands one to Darcy.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers,” she says.

When she walks to the open patio doors he can see the tension in her body.

Forrest takes his champagne over to the piano and starts to play “That Old Black Magic.”

“You play very well,” she says, watching him from the doorway.

“Oh, hardly.”

“Maybe you can get a job in the Polo Lounge.”

“Funny.” While he drinks he plays a few trills with his left hand. “Darcy, you look terrified.”

“No, I’m not,” she says, “this is me looking seductive.”

She strikes a Monroe-esque pose—does it rather well—but her voice betrays her.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says and stops playing.

“Are you getting cold feet?”

“No, but I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I’m not seventeen, Forrest. I’m a big girl.”

“Okay, I’m just letting you know there’s no pressure.”

She disappears onto the patio and his mischievous hands start to play “Let’s Do It,” as if he’s cool and composed.

But there is pressure, and he—astonishingly—is feeling it, too.

Forrest has lost track of the women he’s been with in hotel suites just like this.

Nights fueled by alcohol and expensive pharmaceuticals, where sex was just something you did, like eating or drinking.

Nobody got hurt.

Nobody fell in love.

Nobody gave a damn.

They woke up in the morning and spent another wasted day and then repeated the whole exercise with new partners.

But Darcy Pringle is different.

This small town girl brings with her none of the ironic detachment of the women Forrest is accustomed to.

What are you afraid of, Forrest, he asks himself, adding a few frills and trills to what he’s playing.

And the answer when it comes, astonishes him: he’s afraid of feeling something.

He couldn’t deal with that.

Not now.

Forrest stands and he’s almost at the door of the bungalow when Darcy says, “You running out on me?” She stands on the patio, holding her glass of champagne. “Don’t you think I’ve had enough rejection?”

“I’m not rejecting you.”

“Oh?”

“I’m a shallow, trivial man, Darcy. You don’t need somebody like me.”

“Oh, but I do, Forrest. You’re exactly what I need.”

And the playbook gets tossed when it’s Darcy Pringle who crosses to Forrest Forbes and takes his hand, leading him through to the bedroom where she pushes him onto the giant bed, straddles him and starts to kiss him with a hunger that shocks them both.

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