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  Besotted

  A Beguiling Bachelor Romance

  Madison Michael

  Besotted by Madison Michael

  Copyright 2018 Madison Michael

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior permission of the author/publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any resemblance to individuals known or unknown to the author is purely coincidental.

  Cover: Emcat Designs

  “The course of true love never did run smooth”

  William Shakespeare

  A Midsummer Night’s Dream

  Prologue

  TYLER – Present Day

  How the hell did I end up here? Me, the boy handed everything on a heaping platter – looks, brains, the right schools, the right friends, the right pedigree.

  How is it that almost twenty years later, despite my privileged life, I am still paying the price for one little indiscretion? Sure, I got an ivy league education, and I am still able to practice law – which was a lucky break after everything that happened. My friends are still my friends too, but would they be if they knew I had kept such a huge secret from them all these years?

  What a fool I have been, taking all this for granted instead of facing it head-on.

  It was a big nothing back then. I was a kid who didn’t know better. If I had just been honest, this would all be over by now. But seriously, I took my cue from my parents. At just under 18 years of age, who wouldn’t?

  So I went along with the cover-up that my family devised, the complicated litany of emails describing Geneva, Paris, Barcelona, and London. We Photo-shopped selfies of me with tons of friends, tons of women. Even I started to believe my bullshit.

  So it’s no surprise that Regan fell for the whole charade. All I ever wanted was a cozy life with my buddies, my girl, meaningful work and a house along the lakefront. An experience like my parents had when I was growing up. Big suburban home, a wife I adored, a few brilliant kids to be proud of. I wanted all that, and to share it with Regan.

  But here I was, mid-thirties, still blessed with my buddies, brains, and brawn but without the girl. Instead of having a life with Regan I was sitting at her desk, doing her job. Don’t get me wrong, being the CEO of the Lyons Howe Real Estate empire was the pinnacle of success and I knew it. No complaints about that.

  But there were these nagging problems with my current situation. First, a dangerous group of Russian thugs was blackmailing me, and their demands were getting harder to meet.

  Second, I was filling in for Regan at the helm of her family business so that she could marry a god-damned Senator who could rival a young Jack Kennedy. How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?

  Third, and worst of all, I didn’t know if I could win Regan back before she walked down that aisle and shut the door on us forever. Could I make her love me again?

  I needed to turn back time. I needed these thugs off my back. I needed to win the girl.

  Chapter One

  Regan – One Year Earlier

  Charlotte was such a beautiful bride. Her dark hair was a brilliant foil contrast against the white lace and beaded dress. She shimmered under the illumination of the enormous chandeliers hanging overhead. Every pair of eyes was on her –except two.

  Regan couldn’t stop staring at the gorgeous man sitting three rows in front of her on the aisle. She wasn’t even subtle about it. Each time he turned her way, he caught her watching him, captured her indigo gaze in his deep brown response. Each time, he flashed her a knowing smile. And oh what a smile it was. Devastating.

  Who was he? Regan hadn’t been curious about a man in ages. Sure, she had dated; at almost 33 years old, she had dated regularly. But, to protect herself, she had a habit of taking Tyler with her as a plus one. It was simpler than starting again with first dates, wondering if men liked her for herself or for what she had to offer – money, connections, and power.

  But this man radiated power along with his perfect features. He looked to Regan like a man who needed nothing and took what he wanted. Fortunately, she had attended Charlotte's and Alex's wedding with a large group, so technically she was dateless. She just had to arrange an introduction.

  Returning her eyes to the front of the ballroom, Regan attempted to follow the ceremony. It was lovely, worthy of Regan’s attention. The couple was so clearly in love, with eyes only for each other as they exchanged vows and rings. Soon they were heading back down the aisle, all smiles.

  As the wedding party receded down the aisle, Regan wiped a stray, sentimental tear and dipped down to find the purse she had stashed below her chair. She was in no hurry. The room would empty as if on an airplane, people exiting from rows front to back. It would be a while before she reached her turn. She fished her hand around on the floor.

  “Can I help you find something?” a deep baritone asked from above her head.

  “Got it.” Regan flourished her purse as she rose in her seat and stared straight into the face of the handsome stranger. He was passing her a pristine, white handkerchief. She thought she had hidden her tears better than that, but since he had noticed, Regan figured she might as well use the scrap of expensive fabric as an excuse to meet the man.

  “Oh, thanks.” Oh, thanks? That’s the best she could do?

  "Hi. Brandon Hockney. I don't believe we've met, and I am sure we’re supposed to." He extended his hand as if to shake hers, but when she placed her hand in his, he just held it, running a thumb along the back, sending a shiver through her whole body.

  "And what makes you so sure?" Regan asked in a flirty voice. His lips as he spoke were so seductive, full, covering a broad, natural, sensuous smile. He was exploring every inch of her face, devouring her with his eyes while she tried to steel her expression. She didn't want him getting a hint of her thoughts. She imagined how it would feel to have those lips descending to hers. Oh, my. Did it just get warmer in here?

  “I know destiny when I see it,” his rich tones oozed charm.

  Regan recognized a practiced flirt when she saw one. The man was confident, that was obvious. She made a halfhearted effort to regain possession of her hand. “Regan Howe.”

  “What do you say I escort you to find a cocktail while we get to know each other?”

  Before she could respond, he released her hand and slipped her arm through his, walking them away from the ballroom toward the patio overlooking the ocean. Regan, not usually docile, felt hypnotized. She happily allowed Brandon Hockney to lead the way.

  “Ree, we’re heading out to get drinks before we find Alex and Char. Oh,” her friend and sister-in-law, Keeli announced before freezing in her tracks. She ran her eyes over the unfamiliar man in possession of Regan’s arm with a knowing grin. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy. I'll leave you two alone." The conspiratorial overtones were not lost on Regan – or on Brandon.

  “And you are…?” Brandon’s query prevented Keeli from walking away.

  “Keeli Larsen Howe, Regan’s sister in law.”

  “Brandon Hockney. A pleasure to meet you.” Brandon extended his free hand with a practiced air.

  “Senator Brandon Hockney?” a familiar male voice asked as Wyatt Howe IV

  joined the small group. Keeli made the introductions, and the two men shook hands firmly and sized each other up. Wyatt, usually the powerhouse in the room, let go first.

  “Hey, guys,” Tyler approached the small group, “Let’s grab a drink and find the lovebirds.”

  Regan shimmied her arm out from Brandon's as Wyatt introduced the two men. She wasn't sure why she cared if Tyle
r saw her with another man, but she did. Brandon caught the move; so did Tyler. Barely exchanging pleasantries, Tyler made a small quarter turn, facing Regan while pointedly turning his back on Brandon.

  “Ree, what’d you think of the ceremony?” Tyler asked, moving to stand between Regan and Brandon as they walked as a group toward the bar.

  “Wasn’t it beautiful?” Keeli gushed. “I couldn’t stop crying.”

  Regan realized she was still holding Brandon’s handkerchief crushed in her palm and extended it to him. Rather than accept the offering, Brandon pushed her hand away gently. “Keep it,” he told her in a low, seductive breath and just like that, they were bound by a square of linen. Regan didn't argue. She liked the idea more than she should.

  The conversation swirled around a rehash of the wedding and ordering cocktails. Standing a bit to the side, Regan found herself unconsciously comparing Tyler and Brandon. Both were dark and exceedingly handsome. Both had swaggering confidence and disarming smiles. Brandon was a few inches taller; Tyler was broader through the shoulders and chest. Both wore expensive, custom-made suits and Italian leather shoes buffed to a high shine. Regan desired them both, she realized with a jolt. While the chemistry between her and Tyler simmered, she and Brandon seemed to be turning up the heat.

  Tyler wasn't quite as polished as Brandon. His hair was sticking up a bit in front as it always did after he ran his hands through it. He had deeper grooves around his eyes and mouth. Brandon’s face was paler and smooth. She figured he must not be an outdoorsman. She was not disappointed, but she was surprised since his fit body and wholesome good looks made her think of a recreational tennis player. The idea that he might not be active didn't sit well, and she found she desired him slightly less.

  Chiding herself for her thoughts, Regan came back to the present, moving with the pack seeking out the bride and groom to offer congratulations. Tyler and Brandon flanked Regan as they pushed through the crowd. Were they jockeying for position?

  Regan knew she was ridiculous, but she was unable to shake the sensation. Tyler hadn't been this attentive in ages. Catching up with the newlyweds, Regan had only a moment to kiss the cheek of her dear friend and employee, but it was long enough for Charlotte to whisper “Brandon’s a total catch” before she gave the senator a huge hug.

  “I see you two have met,” Charlotte raised her voice back to normal, placing a hand on the shoulders of Regan and Brandon and pushing them a bit closer together.” Tyler inched a step closer, frowning at Charlotte. “Regan is my boss, Brandon, so you better be on your best behavior," Charlotte warned.

  “I promise,” Brandon responded, raising two fingers as if to recite the boy scout oath.

  “Ree, Brandon and I have been friends forever," Charlotte explained. "Keep your eye on this one. He’s destined for greatness. We’ll all be visiting him in the White House one day.”

  Impressed in spite of herself, Regan looked at Brandon with newfound respect. So, he was more than just a handsome flirt. “I’ve always wanted a private tour of the White House” she teased, watching for his reaction, but the groom grabbed Brandon’s attention and drew him aside.

  “You could do way worse, Ree,” Charlotte shared in a low voice, as the women watched Brandon and Alex make their way across the patio. Ree could tell that Alex liked Brandon, his arm thrown casually over the senator’s shoulder. The two captured the attention of most of the women in the room. They were both tall, well-built men and too handsome for their own good. “He’s educated, charming, funny, a US senator, and a friend of my brother’s from his Harvard days. He’s also the most eligible bachelor in Rhode Island.”

  Regan searched the room for this paragon Charlotte described. When she finally spotted him, he was gazing at her across the heads of the crowd, his eyes soft, his smile suggestive. Blushing, Regan turned back to her friend.

  “No small thing either, Ree, Brandon’s family had its own sizable fortune, so you can be sure he’s not pursuing you for your money.”

  Brandon was looking better and better, tennis player or not. She was lost in the fantasies of her life in the White House, sipping a cocktail and listening to the conversation swirl about her half-heartedly, when Tyler came to claim her for dinner. He was attentive and scowling, more than usual.

  “So how long have you known Brandon?” Tyler asked without subtlety.

  My, my, Tyler was jealous. Regan found herself unable to resist playing with him a bit. “I just met him,” Regan told him bluntly. “Impressive, isn’t he? Charlotte told me that he was a Representative before age 30 and he’s a US Senator at 37. Harvard educated, rich, handsome..”

  “Yeah, perfect,” Tyler interrupted in a sarcastic tone before his voice turned serious. “Be careful, Ree. You don’t know anything about him.”

  "I do though, Ty," Regan responded, lifting her chin defensively to meet Tyler's probing gaze. "He was friends with Charlotte's brother at school and comes well recommended. Whoever wins his heart will be a fortunate woman."

  Tyler helped Regan into her seat, mumbling under his breath and looking like he wanted to throttle her. What was with him tonight? If he wasn’t interested, why did he care if someone else was? She and Tyler had been friends, just friends, for more than a decade, and never once in that time had he acted like a jealous boyfriend. Until now. Regan was confused by his behavior and by her response to it. She was unsure if she felt flattered or annoyed.

  The wedding reception was elegant. The Newport Mansion was a perfect setting. The scent of the ocean and a profusion of flowers perfumed the night air. Alex and Charlotte circulated with grace and charm amongst tables seating more than 200 friends, family, and coworkers. They would stop to laugh and chat, never releasing their grip on one another.

  Regan, while thrilled for her friends, envied them their happiness. She wanted a love like Keeli had found with Wyatt, Sloane with Randall, and Charlotte with Alex. Regan was the last of their crowd to be single. She had pinned too many hopes on the man sitting beside her with his sullen expression.

  As the wedding progressed, Brandon found numerous reasons to be by Regan’s side, followed almost immediately by Tyler. Although they were seated at different tables, Brandon executed his quest for her in a smooth, almost-military style. He charmed her family and friends, insinuating himself into their group. Other than Tyler, the group welcomed him readily. Soon he was sitting at their table as if he belonged there. Tyler's scowls deepened, but everyone else welcomed Brandon as if he was one of them.

  “I heard you might be up for a Vice Presidential nomination,” Randall mentioned, earning gasps from those gathered around and a deprecating smile from Brandon.

  “I’ve heard that rumor, too,” the Senator admitted, “but that’s all it is right now. Of course,” he turned to Wyatt sitting on his right as he continued, “with some of that Howe clout behind me, I could go far.” Brandon’s smile and slap on Wyatt’s back kept the comment friendly, but Wyatt scowled a bit none-the-less.

  “Perhaps when we’re family…” Brandon was looking directly at Regan as he said that last, causing her to blush furiously.

  “What?” Tyler challenged, his voice rising an octave. “What did you say?”

  “Perhaps I am premature," Brandon continued as if Tyler hadn't spoken, reaching out toward Regan. “Shall we start with a dance, Regan, and see where that leads?” Without waiting for an answer, Brandon helped Regan from her seat, twirling her onto the polished wooden floor. He flashed a victorious, smug grin at Tyler as he held her more tightly in his arms.

  Regan noticed Tyler watching them like a hawk from the outskirts of the dance floor. What was his problem? Tyler never asked her to dance more than once when they accompanied each other, no matter what the event, reminding her that they were there for the cause, not to date. Often that meant less dancing than she wanted, or with less appealing partners. Regan left those events frustrated on many levels. She suspected that with Brandon by her side, at least she would dance enough.
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  Regan told herself to ignore Tyler's glaring looks and focus on Brandon. He was putting the moves on her. Tyler must have noticed too, since he had asked her to dance three times already. Midway between dancing and cake cutting, the junior Senator from Rhode Island managed to separate Regan from her group of friends long enough to advance beyond the usual small talk.

  “Regan, I find you incredibly attractive,” Brandon announced without preamble. “There is a current between us, and I know you feel it too. I want to learn everything about you,” Brandon told her as he snatched two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, pressing one into her hand. Regan sipped slowly, needing her wits around this man.

  “I want to know about your work, your hobbies, your interests, your passions…" Brandon's voice dipped low on the last word. He was staring hard into her face leaving Regan feeling exposed and uncharacteristically vulnerable. He was moving too fast, joking about marriage asking to know everything about her, dancing with her repeatedly, touching her bare arms or stroking her back.

  Although she warned herself repeatedly to take it slow, Regan was responding to Brandon as she hadn’t to anyone in more than a decade. When he ran his fingers softly across the back of her neck while they were dancing, it sent a shock of warmth through her that was undeniable. He was smooth. Maybe too smooth.

  Regan suspected he was a player who did this every chance he got. He was a man with too much of that cool guy vibe, too much self-confidence.

  “You want to know all that now?” she challenged, stepping back from the spell he was casting and assuming a more aloof persona. “It’s a tall order.”

  “Fine, I will take it in smaller amounts, over time, while we see each other regularly. But, I am not giving up on us. ”

  “Senator…”

  “Brandon,” How could a name sound so damn sexy. His deep timbre was full of honeyed promises.