Twin Scandals. Fiona BrandЧитать онлайн книгу.
him, and that it was over. Ben was pretty sure Nick had actually felt sorry for him. But if Ben got involved with Sophie again, the gloves would be off. He would have to either cut ties with The Messena Group or marry Sophie Messena.
Given that it would be a cold day in hell before he would make his father’s mistake—a mistake that had led to suicide—and marry a woman as calculating and career-obsessed as Sophie Messena, he would be crazy to take the risk.
Ben stepped into Nick’s swanky office and lifted a hand to Nick and John Atraeus, who was some kind of a distant relative and, now, Nick’s new business partner. As he joined them out on the terrace, he took in the tropical heat, the balmy air and impressive view of Miami as it flowed around the coastline, glittering softly in the night. Broodingly, he conceded that he could have picked another time to meet. Like tomorrow morning, for example, when John and Nick, who were both here for the launch party, would still be around.
But the truth was that, a year on, he was no nearer to forgetting about Sophie than he had been when he had walked out of his hotel suite in Dolphin Bay, leaving her asleep in his bed.
He still wanted her, and the frustration and restless dissatisfaction that had followed that one night had somehow managed to nix his love life completely.
Just to admit that annoyed Ben. It meant he was still affected by the kind of obsessive, addictive desire he had decided would never rule him again.
The problem was, he had tried abstinence. That hadn’t worked, so he had tried dating, specifically women who did not look Sophie. That hadn’t worked, either, because none of the pretty blondes he had dated had truly interested him.
Which left one other strategy to get Sophie out of his system. A crazy, risk-taking option that was the military equivalent of picking up an unstable, unexploded bomb.
Getting gorgeous, fascinating Sophie Messena, back in his bed…just one more time.
Hell would freeze over before Sophie would allow Ben Sabin close to her again.
Sophie Messena took the elevator of her brother’s newest resort down to the ground floor. The only reason she was here tonight was for the express purpose of confronting Ben for his horrible behavior in sleeping with her a year ago, then ditching her without so much as a word.
Sophie tensed at the thought of seeing Ben again.
He was six feet two inches of broad, sleek, muscular male, his dark hair cut short, his jaw tough, with the kind of cool blue gaze that regularly made women go weak at the knees.
But not her. Not anymore.
Tonight she was determined to exorcise the last dregs of the fatal attraction to Ben that had dominated her life for two-and-a-half years. Finally she would be able to move on.
It would be over.
Forcing herself to relax, she exited the elevator and strolled into the foyer with barely a hitch to her stride and with a smoothness it had taken weeks of physiotherapy and repetitive exercises to achieve. A faint stiffness was still discernible in her lower back, courtesy of the dislocation injury she had sustained when her SUV swerved off one of Dolphin Bay’s narrow country roads eleven months ago.
That was three weeks after Ben had left her bed following their one tumultuous night together. She had thrown away his brief note thanking her for a “nice” time.
Nice.
As if leading up to that night, there hadn’t been eighteen months of a sultry, electrifying attraction that had made it difficult for her to think about anyone but Ben Sabin. Not to mention the frustrating encounters that had fizzled into nothing, before she had finally made the desperate decision, on Ben’s last night in Dolphin Bay, to go out on a limb and seduce him.
She stopped opposite the reception desk near an alcove decorated with palms at which she had arranged to meet her date for the night. She checked her watch. He was late, which was annoying because it was imperative that she not be seen alone tonight.
For an unsettling moment, she had trouble remembering her date’s name. It wasn’t until she spotted him walking toward her that it came back to her. Since she had met Tobias, a broker who worked for her banker brother, Gabriel, only a couple of times, and both of those times only in passing, when he had been out on a date with her twin, Francesca, maybe that wasn’t surprising.
As she greeted Tobias, the knowledge that she was just minutes away from seeing Ben, made her jaw tighten.
One year ago Ben had walked out on her. Three weeks after that she’d had the accident. Her body had recovered physically. Now, tonight, she would test the mental and emotional healing she hoped she’d achieved after untold hours of very expensive therapy. If the assurances her therapist had given her were anything to go by, she should now be completely immune to him.
Frowning, Sophie scanned the room—which was thronged with a glittering array of guests, local business people and, of course, media. Her stomach tightened ever so slightly when she caught the back of a dark head. By the time the man turned, she had already dismissed him; he was tall enough to be Ben, but his hair wasn’t cut short and crisp, and his shoulders were too narrow. Not broad and sleek and muscular from the time Ben had spent in the military, followed by years of hands-on construction work and long hours working out in his private gym.
She took a deep breath and tried to relax, but in the instant she had thought the man was Ben, her heart had raced out of control and adrenaline had shot through her veins. Now, instead of being relaxed and cool as a cucumber, as she had planned, she was terminally on edge.
“Do you want to, uh, dance?”
Sophie remembered her date for the evening, Tobias. Now an ex-boyfriend of Francesca’s, he was tall, dark, muscled and handsome. He looked super hot but, unfortunately, Sophie couldn’t seem to drum up anything beyond polite interest for him. With any luck, when Ben showed up, he would see her with Tobias and jump to the conclusion that the few passionate hours Sophie had shared with Ben were ancient history and that she was now very occupied with her latest guy.
“Maybe we can dance later.” She sent Tobias an encouraging smile. When Ben arrived it would definitely be good to be seen on the dance floor with Tobias, preferably slow dancing to something romantic.
Linking her arm through Tobias’s to make sure they were seen as a couple, she steered him in the direction of the bar, asked for a glass of sparkling water and took a sip. Anything to distract her from the attack of nerves that had come out of nowhere. Nerves she shouldn’t be feeling because she was over Ben.
“Drowning your sorrows?”
Sophie almost choked on a swallow of water as Francesca waved at Tobias, who had stepped away to speak to an elderly couple. For a split second, Sophie had had trouble recognizing her own twin. “You’ve dyed your hair blond.”
Francesca signaled to the barman that she would like a glass of champagne. “Britney Blonde Bombshell. Do you like it?”
Sophie studied the silvery blond color, which was struck through with honey streaks and darker lowlights. On a purely aesthetic level, she could appreciate that the beach-babe effect was gorgeous, but dying her hair blond held no appeal for her. To put it bluntly, she wouldn’t be seen dead with blond hair, probably because every time she saw a picture of Ben on social media, he had a blonde clinging to his arm. “It’s…different.”
Francesca shrugged. Though identical in appearance with Sophie, she was the polar opposite in terms of personality. “You know me, I like change.”
She sipped her champagne. Her gaze restlessly skimmed the packed dance floor as if she was looking for someone. “Right now I feel like I need to be a little more…definite in my personality. More like you. I love your dress, by the way. You always look so cool and in control in white.”
Francesca glanced down at her own red silk wraparound dress