Confessions of the World's Oldest Shotgun Bride

by Gail Hart

  She glared at him. “What do you mean, jealous? I’m not the least bit jealous. It’s none of my business who you... hang out with.”

  He could read her face like a neon sign. She hadn’t been thinking “hang out with,” she’d been thinking “sleep with.” He had her flustered and jealous and burning for him. Operation Katie was off to a kick-ass start.

  He slid his hand to her neck and felt her pulse thumping. “Sure it is. Show a little ownership. I like it.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I don’t understand you.”

  “What’s to understand? I told you right up front what I want.”

  She tossed her head back. “Get out of here. I can’t leave until I take care of a few things, and I can’t take care of anything with you distracting me.”

  “Not so fast. I want a security deposit.”

  “Security deposit?”

  He took her face between his hands and teased her with a gentle kiss. His tongue traced her lips but didn’t plunge in. He wanted to entice, not satisfy. She pressed her body against him and tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away. “You have an hour, not one minute more.”

  * * *

  Kathryn watched Steve disappear into the hallway and let out a moan of frustration. She had to be crazy for letting that fine hunk leave.

  No, she shouldn’t have let him in to begin with. Now he had her hormones all revved up and she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on business for the rest of the evening.

  Then again, the freaking e-mails would wait—he might not.

  But it would be better if he didn’t. She hoped he’d go home. He was supposed to be her temporary vacation boy toy, not a permanent fixture in her life. It wouldn’t make sense to let what was happening between them go any farther. He was all wrong for her.

  Oh hell, who did she think she was kidding? She was a total fraud. At that moment what she wanted more than anything in the world was to be on the white couch with Steve crossing another fantasy off her To-Do List. Whether or not it made sense, she didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to stick his hand down her bra and go from there.

  Kathryn’s hand drifted to the breast of her suit jacket. Underneath, her tightened nipples ached to be touched. She sighed. Sometimes being a good girl was a pain—literally.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kathryn stuck her head in Gallagher’s to check out the lay of the land. Her work wasn’t done, but she was too tired to be productive. Besides, how was she supposed to concentrate on business logistics when her body was humming with sexual frustration?

  After scanning the room for a few seconds, she spotted Steve at the dartboard. His back was to her, but there was no mistaking that big blond frame. She’d have loved to sneak up behind him, wrap her arms around his waist, and bite his neck, but that was out of the question in such a public setting, especially with a couple of the junior people from B&W at the bar next to him. It wouldn’t do to let them catch her acting like an undignified twit.

  She waved the host over. “I need a table with some privacy, Aidan.”

  “No worries. We’re not crowded tonight. Entertaining a client?”

  Another assumption that business was her whole life. Kathryn sighed. “Something like that. Could you show the gentleman playing darts to my table?”

  To her relief, Steve’s youth and casual dress didn’t seem to excite the man’s curiosity. “Sure thing. And shall I bring you the usual?”

  She was about to say yes to her standard after work glass of white zin, but her stomach rolled over in protest at the idea of alcohol. She shook her head. “No thanks, just bring me a diet coke. And another of whatever the gentleman’s having.”

  Moments later, Steve took the seat next to her, looking so sexy, and so happy to see her, that she knew she was in trouble. Especially when he gave her that smile of his, the one that said all he wanted for dinner was her. He took her hand and she felt a spark of connection sizzle between them. “You made it with three minutes to spare.”

  She tried to look stern. “Coming here was against my better judgment.”

  His expression said he wasn’t fooled. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Is that any way to talk to a guy who bought you roses? Besides, you didn’t have any choice. If you hadn’t come on your own, I’d have made you come.” He leaned closer but didn’t lower his voice. “Though you’d have liked that.”

  Her breath grew ragged and she nearly choked on her soda. She couldn’t believe he’d said that to her in a public place, and instead of being insulted, she was turned on. She was in way over her head with this man.

  Her anxiety got worse when he stroked her palm with his thumb, tracing light circles that sent shocks of sensation through her body like an electric current. Funny, until now, she’d never thought of the palm as an erogenous zone.

  “Admit it, Katie, you’re glad to see me.”

  She ignored the sudden dryness in her mouth. “Sure, Steve, I’m always glad to see you. You’re a mighty fine sight. But don’t call me Katie.”

  She didn’t mention the exception. It didn’t apply anymore, because they weren’t going to bed together again. She had to stay tough and make that resolve stick, even if it killed her. Which, if he kept touching her the way he was, it just might.

  For a second, Steve looked annoyed, but then his normal sexy expression returned. “Sorry, I keep forgetting. Tell me, why are you so against being called Katie?”

  This was wandering into personal territory, which seemed like a bad idea. But what the hell, it was safer territory than sex. “Sounds too young, not serious enough. I worked hard in college to change myself into someone new. I got rid of Katie the person, so why would I want to keep the name?”

  “What was wrong with Katie?” He looked wounded.

  “She didn’t have any self-confidence, and she let people walk all over her. She was a sap.”

  His face reddened. “A sap? That is so not true. What you call letting people walk all over you, I call caring about people. I hate hearing you sound so hard.”

  Hell, this was worse than talking about sex. Kathryn wished she could be the girl he remembered so she wouldn’t have to see that disappointed look on his face. But she wouldn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t. She pushed her hair behind her ear. “That’s who I am now. Katie is gone, and she’s not coming back.”

  He released her hand and reached up to stroke her cheek. His eyes locked on hers. She felt as if he could see everything she was thinking. “Cut the crap, Kathryn. I’m not buying your act.”

  “What act?”

  “The tough girl act. That you’re some kind of a robot. That you don’t have feelings.”

  “Of course I have feelings. I just don’t let them rule my life. I keep them under control.”

  “Wonder Woman, in control at all times.” His tone mocked her.

  She stared into his eyes, not giving any ground. “Believe it.”

  “I know better. I’ve seen you lose control and love it.”

  She sighed. “You’re right. I love how you make me feel. I’d love to take you home and forget about everything but how many orgasms you could give me.” She twisted her facial muscles into an exaggerated leer. “Is that what you want—a standing appointment to service me?”

  He recoiled as if he’d been slapped. “Christ, Kathryn, that was crude.”

  Her expression softened. “I’m not trying to upset you. I’m just laying my cards on the table. I don’t want to use you anymore. That’s what I did in Grand Cayman, and it was wrong. You deserve better. Find someone more appropriate.”

  He gave her an indulgent look, leaning close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. “Well, this is different. Before you claimed I was wrong for you. Now you’re telling me you’re wrong for me. All right, I’ll bite. What makes you, uh, ‘inappropriate’?”

  “You’re serious about your job, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Plan to stay in
the Air Force, make it a career?”

  “Probably. It’s important work, and I’m good at it.”

  “Then you need to look for a military wife. Someone without a career of her own, so she can devote all her effort to yours, and you can drag her off to a new town every few years without her complaining. Someone sweet and upbeat and cute who’ll suck up to the brass and their wives and won’t embarrass you by having an opinion that’s different from the party line.”

  He shook his head. “Everything you just said is total bullshit. How do you come up with this stuff?”

  “I’ve spent most of my career around military types.”

  “That stereotype’s a couple of decades out of date, and you know it. Anyway, this isn’t about what the Air Force wants. It’s about what we want, and that’s each other.”

  Her mouth twisted into a straight line as her exasperation mounted. “Why are you doing this? Why are you putting so much effort into winning me over, when I’ve made it clear I’m not interested, and you have more women throwing themselves at you than you could go through in a lifetime? Is it that you can’t handle rejection?”

  “I’d be out of here in a nanosecond if I heard rejection, but all I’m hearing are lame excuses for you to ignore your feelings. I’m not going to let a few meaningless pages on the calendar stand in the way of the best thing that’s happened to either of us in ages.”

  “You and I don’t make any sense, logically.”

  “No, what doesn’t make sense is paying more attention to logic than to reality.”

  “Damn it, Steve, we were supposed to have a good time in Cayman, and then you were supposed to go away.”

  “Supposed to?”

  “That was my plan.”

  He grinned. “You and your plans. Well, I have a plan too, Kathryn. And you may be the business genius, but when it comes to love, the smart money’s on me. So you may as well give in now and save us both a lot of frustration.”

  Under the table, he slid his hand up her leg and under her skirt. She swatted it away before it reached its target, but not before the target started throbbing. Damn it! She raised an eyebrow at him. “The only way to get rid of temptation is to give in to it?”

  “Half right. You’re going to give in to me, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to get rid of me.”

  As if on cue, her cell phone rang. Thank God. “Gotta get that,” she mumbled, leaning down to hide her burning face.

  Steve returned his hand to her knee. “Saved by the bell... for now.”

  Kathryn fumbled with the phone and nearly dropped it on the table before her shaky fingers found the right button. Her voice shook as she answered, “Kathryn St. John.”

  “Hey, girlfriend,” Amanda’s voice bubbled. “Where are you?”

  “Hi, Amanda. Gallagher’s. You?”

  “Stuck in traffic on the way to a client meeting in Great Falls.”

  “If you’re still working, why did you call?”

  “I had a feeling something wasn’t right with you. You’re not sick, are you?”

  “Not really. I’m a little wiped out from traveling all day yesterday, but nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”

  “Then go home and get in bed. I’m worried about you. I can’t put my finger on it, but something feels wrong.”

  Go home and get in bed. Now there was a suggestion, provided she took Steve with her. Except that aside from being a bad idea, the way she was feeling, she wouldn’t have the energy for any serious fooling around. Still, she didn’t want her friend to be concerned. “Your goofy new-age premonition is wrong,” she said in her most confident, take-charge voice. “Nothing’s the matter with me. Stop worrying.”

  “Who’s that?” Steve asked.

  “Who’s that?” Amanda echoed.

  “A friend.” Kathryn spoke loud enough for both to hear.

  “Male or female?” Steve asked.

  “Do tell,” Amanda said.

  “Yes, Amanda, I’m with an old friend from back home who I ran into down in the islands.”

  Amanda let out a squeal. “Your boy toy?”

  “Exactly.”

  “You planned to dump him at the airport.”

  “True.”

  “So he’s not cooperating with your plan.”

  “That would be correct.” An understatement if ever there was one.

  “Well good for him. You need to have your plans blown out of the water more often. It’s good for you. Teaches you spontaneity. Can I talk to him?”

  Kathryn nearly choked. “No, you may not!” The last thing she needed was anyone encouraging Steve.

  Steve reached over and grabbed the phone. “Give me that.”

  Kathryn tried to hang on, but her grip was no match for his. In a second Steve was saying, “Hello, Amanda.” He listened for another few seconds, then burst into good-natured laughter. “My intentions? Completely dishonorable.”

  Kathryn pushed her chair a few inches away from the table. “Oh, good grief.”

  Steve listened some more and his face grew serious again. “No, not really... I hear you... I agree completely... I promise... can’t wait to meet you either.” He handed the phone back to Kathryn.

  “What did Amanda say to you?”

  He put a hand over hers, sending a rush of heat through her body. “That’s between us. Don’t be so nosy.”

  “Are you two conspiring against me?”

  “No. If anything, we’re conspiring for you, and that’s all I’m saying.” He gave her that disturbingly sexy grin of his, the one that never failed to leave her discombobulated.

  She tried to glare at him, but it didn’t work, mostly because his other hand was back on her upper thigh. How was she supposed to looked pissed off at a guy when she was dying for him to stick his hand down her bra, or better yet, down her pantyhose?

  Damn, she was losing control of this situation fast.

  * * *

  Friday night, and as usual, Kathryn was home alone. No more inner slut; no more boy toy. That was for the best—wasn’t it? She flopped down on the overstuffed couch in the living room of her condo, a glass of white zin in hand, but when she got it close to her mouth, her stomach churned at the smell. She put the glass on the coffee table.

  Her stomach had been a little off ever since she’d gotten home from vacation, and three days later, she was still dragging around bone tired. Maybe she’d picked up a bug in the Caymans. Just her luck. Everyone else brought back duty-free goods as souvenirs, but no, not her—she brought back a stomach virus.

  Her doorbell rang, and she looked up in surprise. The doorbell never rang. Her luxury condo featured tight security. She’d get a call from the phone in the lobby, or from the person on duty at the front desk, before a visitor showed up at her door. Probably a neighbor needing to borrow something.

  She shuffled to the door in her oversized bunny slippers, a gift from Amanda. She wouldn’t have bought anything so whimsical, but they were warm and comfortable and reminded her of her friend.

  She opened the door, and her mouth gaped open. Steve stood in the doorway, carrying a Seven-Eleven bag and looking like he’d just stepped out of the pages of the Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue.

  She, on the other hand, was a total mess in her faded jeans, comfy worn sweatshirt and bunny slippers. She wished she’d had some warning so she could have made herself more presentable. When she could get her mouth to move, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?”

  He stepped inside and closed the door. “It’s Friday night. You shouldn’t be alone on Friday night.”

  “I’m always alone on Friday night.”

  “All right, I shouldn’t be alone on Friday night.”

  “I can’t argue with that. But how did you get in? I didn’t get a call that you were on your way up.”

  He smiled a smile of supreme self-confidence. “I wanted to surprise you, and that nice young lady at the front desk, Tina, agreed to help me. I have an honest face.
”

  Kathryn would bet a month’s salary Steve’s honesty wasn’t the quality that had made Tina ignore her job responsibilities and cooperate with his sneak attack. An unexpected feeling of hurt washed over her. “You got in to see me by flirting with another woman?”

  With his free hand, he stroked her cheek. “All’s fair in love and war, Kathryn.”

  “And which is this?”

  “Both.” He touched her shoulder and gave her his best smile. “Don’t be mad. It was for a good cause. And I brought you ice cream.” He raised the bag to eye level.

  “Ice cream?” Had the man lost his mind?

  “Like in the old days. If you won’t go forward, I figured we could go back. Rebuild from the bottom up.”

  She had to admire his ingenuity. She returned his smile. “A strategic retreat.”

  “Something like that.”

  “What kind of ice cream?”

  “Ben and Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough. Bring us a couple of spoons, will you?”

  “Sure. Have a seat while I get them.” She headed toward the kitchen, kicking off the bunny slippers on her way. Though she tried to be discrete about it, he noticed and his smile widened. “So, the Ice Queen has a silly side.”

  Her cheeks grew hot. “Hey, they’re comfortable.”

  “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

  She cut off the conversation by escaping to the kitchen. By the time she returned to the living room, spoons in hand, he’d made himself comfortable, kicking off his penny loafers and leaning back into the sofa cushions. Her pulse raced at the sight of him, looking so hot, and so comfortable in her home. How could she have believed it would be easy to give him up?

  “Maybe I should bring out a couple of bowls...”

  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. “No. Straight from the carton—that’s how we do it.” He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her tight. She felt the bulge in his khakis. “You look tense. Did you have a tough week at work?”

  “Not so tough. Long, though. My payback for taking time off.” She snuggled her head against his chest. God, his pecs felt amazing. He smelled good, too, though she didn’t detect any cologne—just soap and man. She ought to throw him out, but she was too wildly, insanely happy to see him.