The Maverick Fakes a Bride!

by Christine Rimmer

  Summer didn’t answer. She tossed her rope off, too. And then she waded right up close to Brenna again and drew her arm back.

  As Summer’s open palm swung toward her, Brenna realized that she was about to get bitch slapped and no one on the bank was going to do a thing to stop it. The cameras were still rolling.

  Because a girl fight was exactly the kind of thing they loved on reality TV.

  Brenna brought up her arm just in time to block Summer’s blow, simultaneously reaching under with her free hand to shove the blonde in the chest. Summer windmilled her arms. With a screech, she toppled over on her butt. Muddy water went flying as Summer started to stand up.

  Back in high school, Brenna’s wild friend Leonie was constantly getting in fights. Leonie always said that once the other girl went down, your best bet was to make sure she didn’t get up until she’d surrendered.

  With a muttered, “No, you don’t,” Brenna jumped on Summer.

  They rolled around in the shallows, hitting and slapping, pulling each other’s hair, one going under, then rising, taking the upper hand and pushing the other beneath the surface. Summer was relentless.

  But Brenna was bound and determined to end up the winner. And at last she did. Grabbing Summer by one wrist, she twisted the blonde’s arm up hard against the small of her back. Summer gave a strangled-sounding moan.

  “Up. Now.” Brenna rose, pulling Summer with her. “Had enough?” she whispered in the other woman’s ear.

  “God, I really hate you!” Summer cried. “You’re everybody’s sweetheart, and it makes me want to puke.”

  Brenna almost laughed. All her life, she’d been the wild one, the one who inevitably managed to get herself in trouble. But somehow, on The Great Roundup, she got to be the sweet one. She clucked her tongue at Summer. “And here I kind of thought we were finally getting along.”

  Summer gave a smug little snort. “Fooled you, didn’t I?”

  From the bank, the assistant director signaled them forward.

  Brenna commanded, “Start walking. Do not stop until we’re both on dry land.”

  * * *

  Summer and Brenna, dripping wet from head to toe, did a pair of OTFs right there on the edge of the pond. Summer acted like she’d won the fight, announcing that it was about time Little Miss Perfect ended up on her ass in a mucky pond.

  Brenna played it breezy, smiling at the camera, waving her hand. “What can I tell you? Girls will be girls.”

  Once the interviews were done, crew and cast alike went directly to the canteen, where everyone else was waiting.

  Trav took one look at Brenna and demanded, “What happened?”

  “You should see the other girl.” She flipped out a hand toward Summer several feet away.

  “Whoa.” He reached for her, pulling her close against his side.

  As always, his touch, his very nearness, felt way too good. “Trav! You’ll get mud and paint all over you.”

  He nuzzled her wet, filthy hair. “You’re cute when you’re dirty. And come on. Tell me what happened.”

  “Summer started a fight with me.”

  “But did you finish it?”

  “Oh, you’d better believe I did.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  My girl. She liked the sound of that way too much.

  Jasper called for attention. The host gave a shorter-than-usual speech about which team had taken on what challenges. The judges sang a song and then the winner of the night at the lodge was announced.

  The judge with the smallest hat said, “Brenna O’Reilly, step forward.”

  She couldn’t believe it. She’d scored the highest of all of them, points that would go to keep her safe from elimination when this ongoing challenge ended. Best of all, she’d won the night at the lodge.

  The judge gingerly patted her dirty shoulder and explained that she’d won because she and Summer, as a team, had been fast, focused and resourceful. They were one of two teams, with Trav and Roberta, who’d finished all four tasks.

  But Brenna had made the highest score of all, digging out the ditch a little faster, painting that shed a little more expertly and coming up with the best way to get two cows and their bawling babies across a pond and back to dry land. The judge didn’t mention the fight. But Brenna did kind of wonder how many points Summer had lost for starting a fight she didn’t even manage to win.

  Well, too bad for Summer. The rodeo star had gotten exactly what she deserved—a whupping. Brenna’s mom would not be happy with her when the fight aired on national TV, but Brenna refused to feel bad for holding her own.

  “Now, Brenna.” Jasper wiggled his black eyebrows at her. “Who will you take with you for your luxury night at the lodge?”

  Her gaze just naturally went to Trav. He looked so proud for her. She felt a delicious little flutter of anticipation under her breastbone. A night in a luxury suite with Trav. It sounded so tempting.

  But it wasn’t, not really. Because nothing would happen between them. All their hot, sexy loving was the fake kind, just for the cameras.

  Ugh. She’d almost rather choose Roberta. They could order up some food, give each other mani-pedis and watch romantic movies.

  But Trav was her partner in this big adventure, and she had her role as his adoring fiancée to play. They all needed to believe that she couldn’t wait to be alone in a big bed with the man who owned her heart and made her body beg for more.

  She asked, “Travis, will you spend a night at the lodge with me?”

  He stepped forward and took her outstretched hand.

  Jasper gestured grandly at the white van that waited to take them to the lodge.

  * * *

  The Big Sky suite was perfection, with a fancy sitting room and a giant bedroom, including a wonderful king-size bed with a carved headboard and pillows for days. Both rooms had huge windows looking out on mountain views crowned by wide slices of endless blue sky.

  Their suitcases, which they hadn’t seen for weeks now, waited in the bedroom, packed full of lovely clean clothes. Gerry had them change into flip-flops and took their dirty boots and socks to be cleaned.

  Once they’d had a tour of the suite, they got to hand over their body mics. The camera crew and director left them to clean up for dinner.

  Alone at last, they stood in the middle of the sitting room, staring at each other.

  “I can’t believe we’re here,” she whispered—more in awe than in fear that there might be recording devices stashed nearby. There probably were, but she’d grown way too accustomed to all that by now.

  Brenna pointed over her shoulder in the general direction of the gorgeous bathroom with its walk-in shower, jetted tub and twin sinks. “You go first, but make it fast. I want some quality time in that tub.”

  He grabbed the remote and turned on the big TV over the fireplace—at full volume.

  She winced at the sound. “Trav!”

  He waved her close and put his lips against her mud-spattered ear. “Check for cameras and recorders while I clean up.”

  She nodded and then yelled, “Turn it down!” just in case anyone was listening.

  “Sorry.” He punched the power button, dropped the remote on the coffee table and headed for the bathroom.

  Brenna checked the living room first. She peered in every nook and cranny, looking for hidden cameras and tiny, nearly invisible microphones. She found none, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

  She kept looking. In the bedroom, she pulled open the drawer of one of the twin nightstands—and found condoms of every size, flavor, style and color.

  Brenna threw back her head and laughed. Apparently, Real Deal Entertainment wanted their contestants to practice safe sex.

  A few minutes later, Trav emerged from the bathr
oom in a navy blue shirt, new jeans and dress boots. He looked so good and smelled all woodsy and clean. She felt a sharp tug of longing down inside her. Really, he was way too hot and handsome. It so wasn’t fair.

  His eyes asked, Find anything? She grinned, thinking about the drawer full of condoms. “What?” he demanded.

  Let him find them himself.

  She shook her head and headed for the bath.

  * * *

  Her shower took longer than she would have liked. The paint in her hair was especially stubborn.

  Finally, she got all the paint off and sank into that beautiful tub. She soaked for an hour, then took her sweet time getting dressed for dinner.

  Eventually, Travis tapped on the door. “Brenna, you okay?”

  Leaning close to the mirror, she stroked mascara on her upper lashes. “Just a minute...”

  “They’re at the door, ready to take us to the dining room.”

  “Coming.” She smoothed on cherry lip gloss and then stood back to check herself out in the mirror. “Not bad.”

  “Bren, we need to—” He blinked as she pulled open the door. And then his eyes went low and lazy.

  Her heart leaped at that hot, hungry look on his face. Yeah, he kept insisting that he wouldn’t make love to her. But right at that moment, she truly believed he wanted to.

  He gave a low whistle. “Wow.” She preened a little in her red dress that skimmed her curves just right and ended a few inches above her knees. He reached out and stroked a hand down her hair. “Straight and sleek again.”

  “Trav...”

  He eased his hand up under her hair and wrapped it around the nape of her neck. Those rough, warm fingers felt so good against her skin, as though she’d been born to feel his touch. “So beautiful.” He tried to pull her in for a kiss.

  She resisted, dipping out from under his touch and asking, “Find anything...interesting?” Meaning cameras or microphones.

  “Nothing,” he replied.

  She couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Did you happen to look in the drawer by the bed?”

  He stifled a snort of laughter. “Oh, yeah.” And then he leaned close again.

  She didn’t back away that time. He was so hard to resist. And judging by the blue fire in his eyes, he really did want to kiss her.

  With a tiny smile, she let him reel her in. His warm lips brushed hers, and his neat beard tickled her just enough to send an eager shiver across her skin.

  And then came the knock on the outer door.

  Trav let her go with clear reluctance. “Dinner’s waiting.”

  * * *

  The table for two was in a private nook, with a white tablecloth, a floating candle, a rose in a crystal vase and the lodge’s best china and silver. The perfect setting for romance. Over delicious food and a nice bottle of wine, they held hands across the table, now and then bending close to share more than one lingering kiss. He told her how much he loved her, and she said it right back to him.

  But it was all for the cameras now that they were mic’d up again.

  Travis didn’t know that in her case it was true—and she wasn’t going to tell him, not until they were back home again living in the real world. Maybe not even then.

  Who could say what would happen? They needed to win a million bucks together. And then they could talk about what might happen next.

  Oh, but she did love him, so much, more than anything. Her love felt all bottled up inside her sometimes, pushing at her rib cage, aching to bust out. She wouldn’t let it, though, not now, not till all this was over. Maybe.

  Or maybe not.

  But the uncertain future aside, oh, she longed to be his lover for real—just the two of them in a room alone, with nobody watching. Brenna and Travis, doing whatever came naturally.

  Even if she couldn’t profess her love from the heart, she could have that, at least. And tonight was her best chance. Upstairs they had a real bed with actual sheets and piles of fat pillows. If ever a setting was made for seduction, the Big Sky suite was it.

  And she was bold Brenna O’Reilly, the one who took chances. The one who stood tall, threw caution to the wind and went after what she wanted.

  * * *

  It was getting dark when Gerry ushered them back upstairs. The crew hung around to film them sharing steamy kisses at the door to the suite.

  And then, finally, they got to take off their mics. A minute later, they were inside, with not a crew member in sight.

  She turned the privacy lock and leaned back against the door with a long, happy sigh. “I thought they’d never leave us alone.”

  His blue eyes gleamed at her. She knew he wanted to kiss her again. He stepped in close. “I shouldn’t...”

  “Oh, yeah. You should.” She lifted her mouth, offering it to him.

  And he took it—leaning in, covering her lips with his, kissing her long and slow and deep.

  She reached out, slid her hungry arms around his lean waist and gathered him into her, moaning when she felt him growing hard against her belly.

  He pulled away too fast and looked down at her, eyes blazing, face flushed. “We have to watch it.”

  “Shut. Up.” And she yanked him back to her again.

  They kissed for the longest time, standing there against the door. His hands cradled her face, drifted down her arms and then back up again.

  For the first time ever, he cupped her breasts. She melted inside and moaned against his mouth.

  He pulled back, but then he leaned close again to whisper, “You know it’s gotta be a setup, right? The big bed, the drawer of condoms?”

  “Trav.” She bit his earlobe. “Look at it this way. When are we going to get another chance like this?”

  He kissed her again, a kiss that made her knees wobble and her heart dance. “You’re sure?”

  She felt a slow grin tip the corners of her mouth. “That was way too easy.”

  He leaned close once more and pressed his forehead to hers. He seemed to be trying really hard to control his breathing. “I can’t stand it anymore, Bren. I want you too damn much.”

  “Exactly the words I’ve been longing to hear.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She pressed her cheek to his and whispered, “The answer is still yes. You can stop asking now.”

  He nuzzled her ear. “Even if the room was clean before, they could have put cameras in here while we were downstairs.”

  “So be it. How much can they show, anyway? It’s prime-time network TV.”

  But he was insistent. “One more sweep. It can’t hurt.”

  Reluctantly, they let go of each other to check the whole suite again.

  Finally, she threw up her hands. “Nothing. Can we give it up now, please?”

  “We can’t be a hundred percent certain they’re not filming us. And even if what they get doesn’t end up on the show, it could turn up somewhere else. You realize that, right?”

  “Trav, I have to tell you. At this point, I don’t even care.”

  * * *

  Travis loved that she wanted him enough to be reckless. But what would happen tonight was just between the two of them and he meant to keep it that way. “It won’t kill us to be cautious.”

  Brenna groaned and glared up at him. “Travis Dalton, don’t you tell me that you’ve changed your mind again.”

  He caught her stubborn chin. “Not a chance.” He wanted her too much. More than any of the too many women he’d known. More than the win. More than his share of the prize money that would build him his own house and give him a real say on the family ranch. Travis lowered his head and kissed her. She tasted so good, like heaven, with a hint of coffee and chocolate from dessert.

  “You’ve got too many clothes on,” she accused whe
n he finally lifted his head.

  He chuckled. “We’ll get to that.” And then he bent close again and whispered to her, explaining what they needed to do. “First, let’s turn off all the lights...”

  Once the lights were out, he closed the curtains in the bedroom. Faint light bled in from the big windows in the sitting area, just enough that they could move around without bumping into the furniture.

  He took her hand and led her through the shadows to the side of the bed. They undressed each other slowly, punctuating the process with endless, tender kisses. When they were down to their underwear, he pulled back the covers. She got in, grabbing his hand and pulling him in after her. He settled the blankets over them before he reached for her.

  She went into his arms eagerly, with a long, happy sigh. It felt so good to hold her. She curved into him, fitting just right, as though she was born to be there.

  He cradled her close, his arms tight around her, her head tucked under his chin. It had been way too long since he’d held her like this—since the night in the lean-to at the high meadow. They’d had to sleep close that night to stay warm.

  He pressed his lips to her silky hair and whispered, “Remember that night in the high meadow?”

  Her lips brushed his throat. “Mmm-hmm. It was so cold. And I was so grateful to have you all wrapped around me.”

  He confessed, “I resented the morning when it came.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I knew we were going back down the mountain and I might not get another chance to hold you all night long.”

  She tipped her head back and kissed him under the chin. “Travis Dalton, you are the sweetest man.”

  “Sweet?” He ran a finger down her slim, strong arm and loved the way her breath caught when he did it. “Are you kidding? I’m the one with the wild streak and the troublemaking ways, remember?”

  “I thought that was me—and anyway, if you are a troublemaker, you’re my troublemaker, at least for tonight, and don’t you forget it.”

  He kissed the end of her nose. “And you are mine.”

  “Yes,” she said, her whisper slightly breathless now. “All yours.” She caught his hand and placed it on her breast, which was firm and pliant—perfect, even through the lace of her bra.