Thirty Days to Win His Wife. Andrea Laurence

texted him back—he’d recognized her car in the parking lot. That meant she was either angry and making him wait for ignoring her, or she was avoiding him because she was embarrassed by the whole sex thing.

      He didn’t know what she had to be embarrassed about. With a body like hers, walking around naked could be considered a public service. Sure, they’d crossed a line, but they could work through that. They’d weathered rough patches in their friendship before.

      It probably had more to do with him not calling her back. His schedule had been pretty hectic since the reunion, but it had to be. He’d bought some raw diamonds and taken them to India to be cut. He’d hit an auction in Belgium and picked up an antique sapphire brooch formerly owned by French royalty before the revolution. He’d closed a huge deal with a Beverly Hills jewelry designer to provide diamonds for their pieces. Whenever he’d thought to call her, the time zones were off. She wouldn’t have appreciated getting those calls at 2:00 a.m.

      This was why he didn’t get in serious relationships anymore. He’d gotten burned with Christine and learned his lesson. He knew that most women didn’t appreciate his schedule, even if they appreciated the money that resulted from it. At first, his diamond airline status and exotic travels seemed exciting, but it didn’t take most women long to realize that meant he was always on the go. No, he wouldn’t be able to go to that work thing with you. No, he couldn’t talk about your crappy day when he was ten times zones behind and busy working.

      Amelia had never minded his schedule before. Had that changed along with their marital status?

      What was the rush anyway? She hadn’t found Prince Charming in the ten years leading up to now. Certainly she hadn’t found him in the past month while he’d been gone. He loved Amelia, but she wasn’t known for her successful relationships. He’d only met one woman in his whole life who was as high maintenance as she was, and that was his ex. He’d known that about Amelia going into this, but she was his best friend and he would do anything to make her happy. Apparently.

      They’d take care of the divorce. That was why he was here at his first opportunity. Despite what Amelia might think, Tyler wasn’t deliberately dragging his feet. Although, if he was honest with himself, there was a part of him that was sad that he’d never get to touch those soft curves again. He’d always been happy to be Amelia’s friend, but he wouldn’t mind spending a little more time exploring her body before they went back to being just friends. He’d only had one brief taste, and that wasn’t nearly enough for a woman like her.

      But in the end, he knew their friendship would outweigh his erection. Amelia was the most important person in his life and he wouldn’t risk that, even to make love to her again. She wasn’t just his best friend; she was a driving force in his life. As a kid, he’d been a nobody lost in the chaos of his large family. At school, he’d been just as invisible. Amelia had seen him when no one else did. She’d seen his potential and lit a fire in him to make something of himself. Over the past ten years he had built up his own company, dealing in precious gems and antiquities. He lived a lifestyle he never could’ve imagined as a poor kid growing up in Vegas. Amelia had made him believe he could do all those things.

      No, he wouldn’t risk his friendship with her for the greatest sex ever had in the whole universe.

      Tyler looked up to see Amelia watching him from the doorway. She didn’t run and leap into his arms, but at this point, he was no longer expecting an enthusiastic greeting. He was just happy she hadn’t left him standing out here indefinitely.

      She took a few hesitant steps into the room, not speaking at all. She looked amazing today. There was a glow about her that lured his gaze to travel over her body, admiring the fit of her sweater dress. The dark purple tunic was gathered beneath her ample breasts and flowed to her knee. She was wearing black leggings and boots with it that enhanced her shapely legs.

      The deep V of the dress’s neckline displayed an amethyst pendant he’d sent her for her birthday. The fat teardrop gemstone fell just at her cleavage, drawing his eyes to her breasts. Amelia was petite in many ways, but the Lord had blessed her with enough assets for three women.

      He knew he shouldn’t look, but the memories of their wedding night rushed into his brain, and he couldn’t turn away. In an instant, he could see her naked body sprawled across the hotel bed. His palms tingled with the memory of running his hands over every inch of her flawless porcelain skin. Tasting those breasts. Hearing her cries echo through the room.

      The lobby was suddenly very warm. It was a cruel trick of the fates to give him a woman so desirable for a wife, then not let him keep her. And he couldn’t keep her. He had to remind himself of that. They’d only disappoint one another and ruin their friendship.

      “Hey, Ames,” he said, finally meeting her gaze.

      She swallowed hard, watching him warily. With her big dark brown eyes, she almost looked like a doe, easily spooked by any sudden movements. He hated that. She’d never looked at him with anything other than adoration and love before. He supposed getting married had ruined that. This was just his first taste of what it would be like to be in a real relationship with his demanding, high-maintenance best friend. The honeymoon was barely over and he was already in trouble. He definitely shouldn’t have waited this long to talk to her.

      “What are you doing here, Tyler?”

      Apparently they were skipping the pleasantries. “I came to talk to you.”

      Her arms crossed over her chest, her breasts nearly spilling from the dress with the movement. “Now you want to talk? What about the past few weeks when I’ve tried to get hold of you and you just blew me off? When I wanted to talk to you, all this didn’t seem to matter. Am I just supposed to drop everything to talk to you now because you’ve decided you’re ready to deal with this mess?”

      Tyler’s lips twisted in thought, his hand rubbing over the rough stubble on his chin. Now did not seem like the time to try to convince her it wasn’t a big deal. She had always been a very emotional person, her temper as easily lit as the flames of her red hair. He’d seen her unleash that fury on past boyfriends and he didn’t ever want to be the recipient. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back with you. I needed to take care of a few things.”

      “And I needed you to talk to me!” She took several steps toward him, a strand of auburn hair falling from its clip to frame her face. A red flush rushed to her cheeks and décolletage, marring her pale, creamy skin. “We’re married, Tyler. Married! You can’t just keep ignoring this. As much as I’d like to pretend this never happened, we’ve got to deal with it. Talk about it. Of all the times to ignore me for business, this is the wrong time.”

      “I know.” He held out his hands in an appeasing gesture. It hurt him to hear how distraught she was over their situation, but there was nothing to be done. Business was a priority over a fake marriage, even with his best friend. “I should’ve called, I know. I’m sorry. I hopped a flight out here as soon as I could so we could deal with this in person.”

      That seemed to calm her down. Her hands fell to her sides, the tension in her shoulders relaxing. Even then, there was a concern lining her eyes. Something was wrong. More than just her irritation with him. He knew Amelia better than anyone else on the planet. A thousand miles apart, he could detect that she was upset over the phone. In person, it was hard to ignore that something wasn’t right.

      She crossed her arms over her chest, and he noticed she wasn’t wearing her wedding ring. He could feel his own wedding band encircling his finger. He didn’t know why, but he’d worn it faithfully since the ceremony. Somehow it felt tighter and more irritating when he knew he was the only one wearing it. “Where’s your ring?” he asked.

      “It’s at home in my jewelry box. Until five minutes ago, no one knew I was married, Tyler. I can’t strut around here with that giant rock on my hand and not get a million questions.”

      She was right about that. Subtlety was thrown out the window after you moved past a couple carats. Her ring was a flawless eight-carat D-color cushion-cut diamond. He’d purchased it a few weeks before the reunion