Seven Day Fiance: A Love and Games Novel (Entangled Bliss)

by Rachel Harris

  Now unable to help himself, knowing his touch affected her, Cane encircled the slender bones of her wrist with his thumb and finger. Angelle was tough, but she was also much more delicate than any woman he’d ever known. So feminine and vulnerable. The contradictory mix fascinated him. It brought out every protective instinct he had, and attracted him like nothing else before.

  On the underside of her wrist, the site of her tattoo, he felt the raised skin of a scar. Curious if the injury linked to the mysterious one-word brand, he grazed the pad of his thumb over the mark. Her pink lips parted. When he did it again, her head lolled, and her breath caught.

  The stuttered sound, the rise and fall of her chest, the way her hand flexed and curled as his thumb drew slow circles…it only made him want her more. He hadn’t thought that was possible. And when her head shifted and she peered up at him with unmistakable, unhidden desire, well, it was all over.

  Cane gunned the accelerator. Flipping on the turn signal, he switched lanes, headed for the rest stop an exit ahead. Angelle’s voice was whisper soft when she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “We need to get something out of the way right now.”

  In the quiet of the cab, he heard her swallow. There were no other words until he threw the truck into park a half mile up the road. As soon as he did, Cane chucked his seat belt, made quick work of hers, and stared into her unguarded eyes.

  Angelle was one giant tell. If she ever tried playing poker, she’d lose her ass. Her family bought the fiancé lie up to this point because she hid behind a cell phone and several hundred miles, but the two of them wouldn’t have that luxury this week. People would be watching them like hawks, curious about their relationship, looking for sparks. And luckily, they had that in spades.

  Brushing a lock of auburn hair away from Angelle’s face, Cane said, “This charade isn’t going to be easy. I’ll learn everything you want me to know, everything we have time for during the drive. But darlin’, there’s one thing we don’t need to work on. And that’s this.”

  He lowered his forehead to hers, feeling the soft pant of her quickened breath hit his opened lips. He skimmed his nose across hers and closed his eyes as he breathed deeply. Sunflowers. A hint of vanilla. Cherry-scented lip gloss. And Angelle. His Angelle, at least for the next week.

  Angling his mouth so their lips were barely touching, he said, “Desire, Angie. Attraction. We have it. We don’t have to fake that. And since we’re alone, and that’s my ring on your finger, it seems only fair I get to steal a kiss.”

  Anxiety mixed with excitement entered the emotional gumbo of her gaze, and her tongue flicked out to wet her lips. It brushed over the seam of his mouth, and he growled low in his throat. “Our first kiss of many.”

  Then, closing his eyes, pretending he didn’t see the sudden flash of affection in hers, he dropped his mouth and kissed her.

  He kissed the shit out of her.

  That desire he’d said they had, well, it damn near set off an explosion in his truck. Fire, heat, panting breath. Thoughts that had no place in a cramped cab alongside a busy highway, at least not in the light of day. But hell if he wasn’t wishing he’d stopped at a hotel instead.

  Angelle was soft—soft hair, soft lips, soft sighs of pleasure. And she tasted sweet. So damn sweet. This was his bit of heaven, right here, and while Cane had no right to keep her long, now that Angelle was in his arms, he knew one night would never be enough. To get this woman out of his head, he’d have to extend his plan. It’d take at least a week with her in his own bed, stopping to refuel only when it became an absolute necessity. But he couldn’t rush this. This was Angelle. She required an entirely different game plan than the women he was used to. She needed to be wooed.

  So, with his lips and tongue, Cane began showing her exactly what he wanted to do to her body. Everything he hoped to do before the week was out. And when her tiny, tentative hands reached out to grip the fabric of his shirt, he grinned.

  Cane tore himself away from her sweet lips to slide his tongue along the column of her neck. A gasp escaped Angelle’s mouth. She was so responsive. She made him feel like everything was new for her, like he was the first man to make her feel like this. Pride and satisfaction coursed through his veins. He bit and then licked the underside of her jaw, and a deep moan broke free from her throat. And that released the hellcat.

  Suddenly slapping his hands out of the way, Angelle knotted her fingers in his hair. Cane chuckled as she tugged roughly on the ends, impatiently yanking him closer and herself higher. Placing his hands around her slim waist, he slid across the seat and tugged her onto his lap. She settled a leg on either side of his hips and they shared a hiss.

  “Good Lord.” Her voice came out a slur, almost dazed, and only a sliver of green peeked from beneath her thick fringe of eyelashes. But it was enough to see she was as into what was happening as he was. “So this is what it feels like.”

  “What what feels like?” he asked, molding her curves with both hands. God, she was perfect. He had to keep reminding himself that their first time could not be at an overgrown rest stop on the side of the interstate in broad daylight.

  Now, a motel room right off the interstate…

  But as soon as that thought entered his mind, he felt it. A shift in the air. Angelle’s loose limbs tensed. Her spine straightened and her eyes widened. Dropping her gaze to his chest, she answered, “Kissing the mighty Cane Robicheaux, of course.”

  Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed herself off his lap. Cane sat there a moment, stunned.

  What just happened?

  This woman ran fire hot and ice cold. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying like hell to catch up. And telling his libido to slow the hell down. Sliding his hand to the back of his neck, he squeezed the muscles and watched as she lowered the visor and began smoothing the lines of her smudged lipstick, the hellcat officially back in its cage. “Everything all right there, angel?”

  “Peachy.” Angelle fluffed her hair then snapped the visor back in place, smiling at the windshield. Avoiding eye contact. “But we should be getting on our way. Knowing Mama, she has a huge spread prepared, and trust me, we don’t want to be late.”

  Glancing at the clock, Cane figured she was right. By the time they got to Bon Terre, it’d be after one. He had a hunch showing up late wouldn’t make the best impression—but he’d be damned if this truck was going anywhere until he got a good look at those eyes. He needed to see what in the hell was happening in that gorgeous head of hers before they budged an inch.

  “I don’t know,” he drawled, stretching out his long legs as much as the cramped cab would allow. He leaned his head back and shrugged. “I thought we’d make a stop at the Harley store in Scott first. I’m starved and I hear they have a few good places to get cracklins around there, too. I was thinking we’d look around a bit.”

  Angelle’s head whipped around so fast it would’ve been comical, had he not been preoccupied with the hidden secrets in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “No,” he answered, searching her face. Confusion faded, leaving behind wariness, embarrassment, guilt, and even a shade of desperation swirling in the green depths. Whatever made Angelle shut down a moment ago was big. Important to her. And it didn’t have shit to do with her mama’s planned lunch.

  Cane wanted to pry. He wanted to make her tell him what had spooked her so badly. But he couldn’t. Obviously, he’d pushed too far, made some mistake, and he didn’t want to do it again. If he wanted Angelle comfortable around him, then he couldn’t force her. She had to come to him, open up to him, on her terms.

  Scooting back behind the wheel, he buckled up, knowing she was still watching him. He shot her a grin he didn’t feel. “Just messing with ya, sweetheart.” She released a breath and settled back in her seat, reattaching her seat belt. Cane shifted into gear. Reversing from the spot that would be forever etched in his memory, he said, “Let’s go meet the folks.”

  Cane kept Angelle
distracted during the drive. He asked about her family, her childhood, her favorite subjects when she’d been in school, and the activities she’d liked. Unsurprisingly, horses topped the list. Riding, training, breeding, as long as it involved a horse, Angelle enjoyed it. What did shock him was learning she’d been a math and science nerd, too. Cane had her pegged as a quiet literature or maybe a history girl, but Angelle’s face lit up discussing biology and physics. Discovering they shared an interest in the way the universe worked was refreshing and unexpected. And completely frustrating.

  Cane didn’t need another reason to feel connected to Angelle.

  He liked her too damn much as it was.

  More surprises came learning about her family’s large chicken population, and that her closest sibling had been ten years older. He caught the past tense and wanted to ask, but he bit his tongue. He’d vowed to keep things light—for now. So instead, he asked about her hometown. Angelle’s somber mood instantly lifted as she proceeded to give him an earful about Bon Terre. By the time he took the exit, Cane was sure he could lead the town tour.

  Waiting at a stoplight off the busy interstate, Cane glanced around. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve driven past this exit, but I can honestly say I’ve never been here before.”

  Angelle laughed softly. “Not many people have. We’re a small town, but we like it that way. Our annual festival and parade draws a decent crowd, enough to feed the local economy. But come Sunday evening, they head on out, and we’re left again in peace.”

  Peace was an apt word. As he drove under the overpass, every lyric to every country song he’d ever heard came to life. Fields of crops, old dirt roads, and red pickup trucks. With the song “Mayberry” by Rascal Flatts playing in his head, Cane asked, “Anything else I should know in the next three minutes?”

  She thought a moment. “Just be prepared to meet the welcome wagon. My family’s big to begin with, and I guarantee at least half the town’s population will be waiting on my doorstep. The prodigal child returning home is gossip enough, but they gotta be chomping at the bit to meet the city boy I tricked into marrying me.”

  Angelle labeling herself a prodigal child was humorous, but what he laughed at was, “City boy?” He shook his head. “Have any of these people even been to Magnolia Springs?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said with a shrug. “Anyone who’s not from the country is considered city. Around these parts, that normally means Lafayette, but in comparison to home, even good old Magnolia Springs is city.”

  Cane shook his head with a smile. He doubted it could be that much different from where he grew up. It appeared Bon Terre had more land and less traffic, but people were people. And with the last name Robicheaux, no one could say he wasn’t Cajun. He glanced over and noticed Angelle’s lips twitching with barely concealed amusement. “What?”

  A full laugh broke free as she pointed to his Converse sneakers. He’d figured they would go over better than his motorcycle boots, but apparently, he’d guessed wrong. “You’re gonna catch so much crap for those.”

  He rolled his eyes, returning the wave of a passing driver. It wasn’t as if he owned any cowboy boots. And to be honest, Cane didn’t care if the whole damn town had a problem with his footwear, especially when it made her laugh like that. “So everyone will be waiting to meet the city boy who sports messed-up kicks. What else?”

  Angelle fidgeted with her fingers and turned in her seat to face him. “There’s a very good chance Brady will be leading the pack.”

  Cane kept his face purposefully neutral. The truth was he hoped she was right. He’d like to meet the idiot who let her slip through his fingers. “How long were you two together?”

  Without hesitation, like it was no big deal, she answered, “Eight years.”

  He cursed and swiveled to look at her. “Eight years?” Angelle bit her lip and nodded, big green eyes saying he was failing to make her feel at ease… but damn. “And in all that time, he never tried to put a ring on your finger until this past year?”

  “Well, for seven and a half of those years, we were apart. Different schools, different states…different wants,” she added on a sigh. “After graduation, I hung around town, working at the library, helping my parents take care of the animals, waiting for Brady. He was so busy with med school it just didn’t make sense to get married any earlier. And I wasn’t ready to leave home. Bon Terre was all I knew. When Brady finally came home last Christmas to start his residency in Lafayette, it was the first time we’d lived in the same city since we were eighteen.”

  Anger churned inside and his fists clenched the wheel. “So basically, you put your life on hold for a part-time relationship with a man who put you second best. Is that what you’re telling me?”

  The guy held her on a string for years, and to hear her tell it, he came across as honorable, waiting until he finished school to give her a ring. In Cane’s opinion, any man who asked a woman like Angelle to wait around twiddling her thumbs for eight years wasn’t a man at all.

  He glanced at his ring sitting on her pretty little finger and grinned. Fake engagement or not, he’d succeeded where her ex hadn’t, and call him a jealous jackass, but Cane was eager for Brady to see that.

  “It wasn’t Brady’s fault,” Angelle said, twisting his mom’s ring and admiring the heart-shaped diamond. “He did eventually propose… I think it was just too late. We’d both changed—at least I had. I couldn’t spend another three years waiting for him to complete his residency, waiting for my own life to begin. But when I said no, Cane, I didn’t only break Brady’s heart. I broke the town’s heart. That’s what you have to know before we get there. Brady and I were Bon Terre’s golden couple, the mayor’s daughter and the high school quarterback turned ‘good doctor.’ That’s what everyone calls him, by the way.” She mumbled something under her breath he couldn’t hear. “That’s why I left. I couldn’t start over here with the entire town disappointed in me. I needed a fresh start.”

  “Bon Terre’s loss is Magnolia Springs’s gain,” Cane replied, turning onto a long two-lane road with fields on either side. “And I, for one, am glad you left.”

  He sensed her heavy gaze on him and turned to meet it. Her lips lifted in a smile. Not a timid or embarrassed one, not even a shy or inebriated one. Angelle smiled her first, full-fledged, authentic smile in his direction, and Cane’s chest tightened. “So am I,” she said.

  They drove again in silence, and after another mile, the paved road turned to gravel. Angelle told him to turn down Papa P. Blvd. “That’s my papere,” she said, pride evident in her voice. “My grandfather,” she explained. “But everyone just calls him Papa. This is our family’s road.”

  Cane slowed to take in the sight. Acres of green land stretched before them, some with cows, others with horses, and many with what appeared to be large fields sectioned off in between. Just from the small strip Cane could see ahead, Angelle’s family road contained at least seven or eight homes, all similarly styled: comfortable, obviously Southern, with large sloped roofs and porch swings. Without tall buildings or even a ton of trees off the main road, the bright blue Louisiana sky seemed endless.

  “That’s my brother Troy’s house on the right,” Angelle said, pointing at a house with yellow siding. “My cousin Lacey lives on the left up there, next to my nanny and parrain.” She sent him a wink. “That means godfather, city boy. My grandparents are all the way at the end, and that’s Mama and Daddy where all the cars are.”

  Cane’s eyes widened. It wasn’t just where all the cars were. It appeared to be where the entire town was. Angelle hadn’t been lying when she said they’d all come out for their appearance. Rows upon rows of trucks were parked along the street and in the nearby field, and people were everywhere. Crossing the street, standing in the grass, and for some reason, chilling in their cars talking with the windows down. A large crew was waiting on the front porch, gathered around a couple Cane assumed were Angelle’s parents, sitting on…was
that a church pew?

  “Why is there a church pew on your parents’ porch?” he asked, following the ever-so-helpful motions and points of practically everyone, directing him to a spot saved front and center. At least fifty pairs of eyes, if not more, were trained on them. Cane lifted a hand in a halfhearted wave.

  Why did I agree to this again?

  The reason why laughed beside him. “Uh, yeah. It was a gift from the priest when they remodeled the church.” Angelle shrugged a shoulder and grinned. “Why? Doesn’t everybody have a church pew on their front porch?”

  “No. No, they don’t,” he replied.

  “Well, welcome to Cajun town.” She laughed again and jumped out of the truck. Leaning her tight body through the open door, she said, “Don’t just sit there. Get on down.”

  Get on down. Where Cane was from, that meant busting a move on the dance floor. Angelle’s wink and saucy grin implied she knew that, and that this was the first of many cultural shocks and confusions he’d experience over the next week. But anything that lit her up like that was fine by him.

  With nothing to do but follow his amused redheaded tour guide into this Cajun town, Cane turned off the engine, pocketed his keys, and stepped onto the circular drive.

  Chapter Six

  Being home was like a shot of caffeine straight to Angelle’s veins. She’d spent so much time worrying about the reaction she’d get when she arrived that she forgot how special Bon Terre really was. This town was a lazy Sunday tubing down Bayou Teche. It was a bowl of her grandmother’s prize-winning gumbo and a link of her favorite crawfish boudin. It was driving down endless back roads to clear her head, wading through a crawfish pond checking traps, and watching Papa pray over her niece’s sprained ankle. Life here was slower, the people were family, and the food…Angie inhaled deeply and grinned.