I Do (Hate You) by Sienna Blake

Shell

As we stood on the tarmac, I could feel my smile getting tighter as Rupert questioned my friends.

“Hello, Claire. Lovely to see you. Have you had some type of accident? You seem very damp and smell like the inside of a wine bottle.”

“I guess I’m a little sweaty from the heat, and I just got a new perfume called Eau de Moet,” she said with a saucy smile. Claire knew as well as I did that Rupert would not be amused that she had hosed everyone down with champagne.

“Miguel, I see you’re joining the women for the hen party? How modern of you,” Rupert said in a tone so neutral that it could have been a compliment.

“I see you’ve brought your boyfriend with you. Also very modern,” Miguel retorted in the same passive-aggressive style.

“Clive is my bodyguard, not my boyfriend,” Rupert insisted. Clive looked like he would rip Miguel’s face off if he got the chance.

“My mistake,” Miguel said as the ladies looked like they wanted to laugh.

I decided it was time to change the subject. “Rupert, when is your family getting here from England?”

“They landed about an hour ago and are already at the hotel. I just spoke to Mother on the phone and she and Father are taking tea in their room before they take their scheduled nap.”

As he talked about tea and naps, my friends drifted away to the front of the car to refresh their drinks. I mean, really, you’d think they’d want to stay and listen to such titillating conversation.

Rupert took that as an opportunity to whisper, “You know how proper my family is and any nonsense will not be tolerated. If your silly friends insist on a drunken night of debauchery, then please make sure they do it far away from my parents.”

His handsome face looked so worried that I kissed him on his cheek. He tended to get fussy when he was stressed out, and I wondered if he had eaten anything today. He was already skinny, and I worried about him dropping any more weight.

“Sweetheart, we’re just doing a spa day and dinner. I promise, the hen party will be tame, and the wedding will go off without a hitch. There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about. I’ve warned my friends and family to be on their best behavior and they’ve assured me that they will be a model of decorum.”

“Shell! Yo! Your brother is here and ready to take this wedding by storm! Come here and give me a hug!”

The sound of Logan’s bellows echoed off the planes and startled a nearby flock of birds into a hasty flight. Rupert’s jaw tightened for a moment before he arranged his face into a smile.

“Logan! Glad you made it safely,” I said, giving him a look that I hoped said, “Get your shit together, idiot.”

Apparently, my look actually said, “Pick your sister up, shake her, and squeeze her so hard that she grunts in protest.”

I spotted Lane over Logan’s shoulder and shouted, “Can you do anything about this?”

“I’m calling for a driver to come pick us up now,” Lane said. “I’ll tell the driver to hit him with the car if he hasn’t put you down by then.”

I laughed as Logan kept swinging me. Rupert looked so disturbed by the entire thing that he just stared for a moment until he stuck his arm out to Logan for a handshake. “Hello, Logan. Ready for all the festivities?”

Logan put me down and was just about to shake Rupert’s offered hand when Talia sprinted from the front of the town car and jumped into my brother’s arms.

“Hi, babe!” she said as she slid her legs around his waist and if I wasn’t not mistaken, her tongue straight into his mouth.

Rupert leaned over to me and whispered, “Model of decorum, you say?”

Before I could make up an excuse for their randy behavior, Rhys spotted Vina, strode over to her, leaned her against the town car and kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in a month. Part of me was embarrassed that they didn’t care who saw them, but another part unwillingly remembered that the last time someone had kissed me that passionately was…

“Hello, Shell.”

Shit. I forgot that James was riding here with Logan.

“Hello, James,” I said, trying to smooth down the wrinkles in my dress that Logan had caused with his show of brotherly affection.

I tried to keep my voice cool, but James gave me a naughty smile as if he knew I’d been thinking of our last kiss. My eyes strayed to his wide shoulders that filled out his custom suit. He was built like a linebacker and he should have looked out of place in the dark pinstripes, but the contrast worked.

He’d unbuttoned the top button of his crisp white shirt, exposing just a hint of tan collarbone. As he came closer, I had to tilt my head back to look at his face even though I was wearing three-inch heels. My brain knew that he was the same asshole he’d always been and I was smart to stay away, but my body betrayed me, going all tingly.

I quickly went through a laundry list of his faults, desperate to keep the little wet spot that was forming in my thong from getting any bigger. He was arrogant, rude, a man-whore, and had the morals of an alley cat. He was even checking me out right here in front of my fiancé!

The nerve.

Of course, I was checking him out too, but it totally didn’t count since my back was to Rupert and he couldn’t see my roving eyes. James could though, and he looked like he loved it. His eyes dropped to my breasts for just a moment before returning to my face. It was just a quick look but so sensuous that it felt as if he had caressed them with those huge hands of his.

I told myself that I’d have to bury these feelings of lust and chalk him up to the “one who could never be.” Why did that thought make me feel like I’d been punched in the stomach?

“Mr. Kane,” Rupert said from behind me.

“Mr. Kane?” James said. “So formal. I think we can use first names now that we’re practically family. I’ve known the Skye family forever and you’re just three days away from being a Skye yourself.”

“Well, Shell is just three days away from being a Wilson,” Rupert countered. “She’ll be taking my name, of course.”

We hadn’t actually talked about me taking his name, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I was proud of my family and my name and to be honest, I didn’t really like any of Rupert’s relatives. Before I could examine those feelings too deeply, the two men started talking about some deal they were competing over.

“I hope I don’t ruin your honeymoon by winning the Whitehaven contract that you bid on,” James taunted.

“I don’t anticipate it being a problem. I feel sure I’ll win that deal, pay for the honeymoon, my plane, and the mortgage on my villa in France with it,” Rupert retorted with a vicious little smile.

“Stop it,” I said, stepping in between them. “I’ve already made it clear there will be no work, no wheeling and no dealing during the wedding. Promise me that there will be a ceasefire between the two of you over the next three days. I’m not kidding. Do not ruin this for me.”

After much grumbling, they both nodded. But that wasn’t good enough.

“Shake on it,” I demanded.

They both looked like they would rather pet a rattlesnake than touch each other, but after a few seconds of hesitation, they stuck out their hands. I could tell they were trying to crush each other’s fingers and by Rupert’s wince, James was clearly winning. Whatever. As long as they didn’t talk business, I was happy.

I turned to go get the men a drink from the car bar to celebrate and spotted Rupert’s assistant Natazia winking at James. Suddenly I wanted to punch her in the face.

I should be elated that the frosty blonde wasn’t into my fiancé, not jealous that she was winking at the jerk I had no intention of ever touching again. Or licking again. Or sucking. Or riding like a stallion. Or having him do that thing with his tongue where he…

“Rashelle Elizabeth Skye, report to the back seat of this town car!” Miguel’s voice boomed as Claire grabbed my arm and dragged me across the tarmac.

Miguel had opened the sunroof and was hanging out of it, talking into a bottle of beer like it was a microphone. “Vina Carmichael, please quit dry humping your husband up against the door and report to your seat!”

Vina threw her head back and laughed, which Rhys took as an invitation to kiss down her neck. “We are not dry humping! There is no humping happening!” Vina yelled, which of course made Rhys start grinding on her and sent her into a fit of giggles.

Miguel continued his commands. “Talia Skye, please unwrap those long sexy legs from your husband and get your tongue out of his mouth. This is not the time for canoodling with husbands. The next naked man you see will hopefully be a stripper named Bruno who is secretly gay!”

Logan lowered Talia to the ground, and she gave him a last tongueless kiss goodbye.

“I feel like this hen night calls for skinny dipping,” Claire announced as she put her hand on my head and shoved me into the town car like she was arresting me.

“I want strippers!” Miguel chanted, throwing his head back and howling into the beer bottle mic.

Once we were all in the car, the sunroof was so huge that we all managed to poke our heads out of it as our driver closed all the doors and got behind the wheel.

“There will be no skinny dipping and definitely no strippers,” I said loud enough so that Rupert could hear.

Miguel and Claire tried to shout me down with boos, but I yelled over them. “The hen’s night will be a spa day and dinner, that is it! No shenanigans!”

I was the first to pull my head back in the car as Tim pulled away and headed for the hotel, but the girls and Miguel slowly followed. It would be very different than our other hen nights but a relaxing day of pampering could also be fun.

It might be just what we needed, a quiet, civilized affair…