The Best Bride

by Susan Mallery

  “Is that why you haven’t had a date in years?”

  He asked the question so casually, she almost answered it. Almost. She nearly blurted out, “No, it’s because I was married.” But she caught herself in time.

  “I was involved with Mandy’s father. Call me a prude, but I’ve always believed in one relationship at a time.”

  “Me, too.”

  She stared at him in disbelief.

  He put his hands on his hips. “Okay, what has she been telling you?”

  “Nothing.”

  He raised his dark eyebrows. “She had to have said something for you to assume that I’ve never been committed to one woman at a time.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes. I believe in monogamy.”

  “For everybody, or do you exclude yourself?”

  “Elizabeth!”

  She shrugged. “I’m just asking. You have to admit you have this reputation in town. I heard it from the nurse, Louise—even Mandy mentioned something about it. You’ve dated her teacher, my boss. What am I supposed to think? That you’re in training to be a monk?”

  He grinned. The curve of his mouth and the flash of white teeth had her smiling in response. Realistically, she should be angry at him in the name of femalehood or something. But the truth was she liked Travis. Despite his obvious flaws, he was a good and kind man. At least he kept his socks picked up.

  “I am involved with one woman at a time, Elizabeth Abbott.” His voice got lower and more seductive. She felt herself falling under his spell and she couldn’t summon the energy to care. “That woman gets my complete attention, the total sum of my energy and focus for as long as the relationship lasts.”

  His gaze never left hers. His hands stayed on his hips. So why did she feel as if he were physically touching her all over? Her skin grew heated, her fingers curled into her palms. How could he do that with just a look and his voice?

  “Oh.”

  With that he left the parlor and stepped into the hall. Before she realized she’d been abandoned, he was back with a bouquet of flowers.

  “These are for you, darlin’,” he said.

  That woman gets my complete attention. She stared from the flowers to him and back. No. He couldn’t mean anything by them, could he?

  “Why?” she asked, almost afraid to hear his answer. What if he wanted her? What if he didn’t?

  “It’s been a week since your surgery. I thought you might be feeling a little lost.” He thrust the flowers at her and she was forced to take them. “You can lose that panicked expression. I’m not out to seduce you.”

  “You’re not?” She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

  He shook his head. “Not while you’re under my protection.”

  Which might mean she would have to watch herself when she wasn’t under his protection, or it might be a polite way of saying he wasn’t interested in her at all. Stop thinking about it, she ordered herself. She was the one not interested, remember? She was the one sworn to never get involved.

  She lowered her head and sniffed the bouquet of flowers. The colorful blooms smelled rich and sinful, not like those long-stemmed roses Sam had often brought her after he’d been gone for several weeks. She’d never had the heart to tell him she didn’t like those roses. They were so straight and scentless, almost mutated versions of natural flowers.

  She touched the cheerful pink petal of a carnation. “Thank you.” She turned toward him and smiled. “They’re beautiful.” He was close enough to touch. She reached out and placed her hand on his forearm. “This is probably going to make you cringe, but I think you’re very nice.”

  The second to the last thing she expected was him to say, “I’m glad.” The last thing she expected him to do was step closer and wrap his arms around her waist. She almost dropped the flowers before gripping them in her right hand. Emotionally she was too stunned to pull back; physically, she was too intrigued. Sam had been tall—maybe an inch or so taller than Travis—but Travis was powerful and strong. She could feel the muscles in his arms where they pressed against her side. She could see the strength in his shoulders.

  And his eyes. She would like to stare into his brown eyes forever, warmed by the fire flickering there. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He wasn’t smiling. She was glad. She would have hated him to find this moment funny. She didn’t think it was at all amusing. If anything, she was fighting the burning at the back of her eyes. She didn’t know why she wanted to cry. Maybe it was because in his arms she felt safe and secure. She hadn’t felt that way since she was a young girl, not much older than Mandy.

  He pulled her close, until her thigh brushed against his and her breasts flattened against his chest. She reached up and placed her free hand on his shoulder. He was going to kiss her. For the first time since he touched her, she remembered she was supposed to be fighting this. Travis wasn’t for her. But she needed him to kiss her. She needed to forget, even for just a moment. She sensed that once his lips touched hers, she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else.

  He didn’t disappoint her. He breathed her name, then lowered his mouth to hers. Soft and hard and prickly and hot. She absorbed the sensations of his lips brushing back and forth on hers, the fire that flared between them. Her eyes drifted shut. Questions of right and wrong, her place in his house, Sam, her future and Mandy all faded, silenced by the powerful force of pleasure. He didn’t assault her or press for more. He simply held her close and moved his mouth slowly, so slowly until she knew every millimeter of his lips.

  She wrapped both her arms around his neck, carefully holding on to the flowers. But that was her only conscious thought. Everything else she simply felt. The hard chest flattening her breasts, the stroking of his hands up and down on her back, the shivers as his fingers grazed the bare skin by her shoulder. Her position pulled her incision, but not enough to matter.

  He moved his head slightly so he could brush his lips against her jaw, then her ear. She arched her head back, liking the gentle caresses, the absence of pressure. Her blood flowed faster, hotter, fueled by the slow assault. His warm breath tickled, sending goose bumps rippling down to her toes.

  He nibbled on her earlobe. She caught her breath, then whispered his name. With her free hand, she touched his still-damp hair, liking the way the smooth strands felt against her fingers.

  He read her perfectly. When she grew impatient with his gentle teasing on her jaw and throat, he returned to her mouth. He didn’t ask or hint, he simply opened his mouth on hers. As if she had no will, her lips parted to admit him.

  Like his previous caresses, he moved slowly, tenderly, tracing her lips, touching the damp, sensitive inside, touching the edge of her teeth before stroking her tongue with his.

  One small flicker was like the first faint flash of lightning. He moved against her again, touching, retreating, touching, circling, touching, tasting. The storm moved closer and closer. She felt the vibration of the thunder, the echoing of his heartbeat, matching the rapid cadence of her own. She saw the flash of light behind her closed eyelids.

  Her body sought his, pressing harder to absorb his strength. Against her belly, she felt the hardness of his desire. Between her thighs an answering need flowered, leaving her warm and waiting. Her breasts tightened in anticipation. His hands moved lower, down her back, over the curve of her hip to cup her derriere in his large hands. He didn’t pull her up against him; instead he squeezed gently, lovingly.

  She reveled in the feel of being next to him. Every move was slow, not calculated as she might have thought, but savored. As if he had nothing more important in his life than this moment. As if he’d spent the whole day thinking about kissing her.

  He wasn’t as tall as Sam, but he was broader and she liked the way his size made her feel protected. Foolish needs, she thought, knowing that she was on her own. But for these few minutes it was enough to hold and be held, tempt and be tempted.

  He sucked on her lower lip, the delicious s
ensations forcing all thoughts from her mind. He kissed her harder now, hungrily, the passion building between them. It was all she could do to stay upright and not sag completely against him. Her fingers had trouble holding on to the bouquet of flowers. His scent and warmth filled her body until she wanted him to be a part of her. He seemed to sense her need, moving even closer, tightening his arms around her as if he were as hungry for love as she.

  Love. The word echoed in her brain, the cold reality of its meaning doused her passion and she pulled back. She wasn’t hungry for love. She couldn’t afford to be. Passion, maybe. Sex—well, it had been a while, so probably. But not love. Never love.

  She stared at the open V of his white shirt and watched his chest rise and fall in a rapid cadence that matched her own. Not love. Never love. Love makes you blind. You can’t trust it. Ever. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. She’d loved Sam with all her heart, and he had betrayed everything she’d held sacred and special. There had been a hundred clues, but she’d missed them all.

  Travis was just like Sam. He was a womanizer, a smooth-talking charmer who made a hobby of breaking hearts. So what if he claimed to practice monogamy? That was part of the trappings of his disguise. She knew what he really was.

  She realized they’d been standing there, breathing heavily for several seconds. She half expected him to say something, apologize. But he didn’t.

  The worst part of it was that her body still tingled from the power of their kisses. Her breasts ached, her thighs felt trembly and weak, and her blood hummed with a powerful need that even the most rational of arguments couldn’t quench.

  She swallowed thickly, then forced herself to look up at him. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than she’d ever seen it. His mouth was still damp from her passionate kisses. She wanted to look down but didn’t dare. She couldn’t bear to see the proof of his need. She would think about how he would feel next to her, inside of her. It had been over a year since she’d made love, but some chilling little voice at the back of her head whispered this wasn’t all about simply doing without. It was more about the man in front of her than the need within her body, and that thought scared her to death.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. “We shouldn’t have done that. It’s better if it doesn’t get out of hand.”

  He smiled then, a slow, lazy, satisfied and very male smile. The skin on the back of her neck tingled and her breasts swelled painfully.

  “What do you mean—‘it’?” he asked.

  “You know. Our relationship.”

  The smile turned into a grin. “I didn’t know we had a relationship.”

  His amusement fueled her temper. “You’re right,” she snapped. “We don’t have a relationship, and I would prefer to keep it that way.” She turned and started to walk away.

  He caught up with her instantly and touched her arm. She wanted to pull back, really she did, but she couldn’t. It felt too good to have him touch her. A bright danger sign flashed before her eyes, but she had a bad feeling it was already too late.

  “Don’t be upset,” he said, his thumb stroking her forearm.

  “I’m not.”

  He arched his eyebrows. Yeah, well she’d never been a very good liar. So what else was new?

  “It was just a kiss, Elizabeth.”

  She pulled free of his hand and continued walking down the hall. When she had turned the corner and was out of sight of the parlor, she raised the bouquet to her face and smelled the sweet flowers. Then she touched her free hand to her still-trembling lips. It had felt like a whole lot more than just a kiss to her.

  Chapter Seven

  “And then there was the time the blood bank brought one of those mobile trucks. You know the kind. They stay for a few days and take donations.” Rebecca paused long enough to finish setting the silverware, then looked up and laughed. “He dated both nurses.”

  “You’re kidding?” Elizabeth asked. “Both. So much for monogamy, Travis,” she called, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

  “I was monogamous. The first one didn’t work out, and her friend wanted to comfort me,” he said from his seat on the floor at the edge of the big dining room. It was one of the few rooms he’d actually bothered to furnish. The rosewood table and hutch had once belonged to his mother. She’d left it behind, along with everything else when she’d left him and his brothers. Their father hadn’t wanted the set. Both Jordan and Kyle lived in apartments. Craig had told him to take it because his three boys would destroy the beautiful pieces in a matter of days.

  “Travis, it’s your turn to move,” Mandy said impatiently. “Hurry, ’cuz I’m winning.”

  “I’m hurrying,” he told the little girl. He rolled the dice and counted out the squares with his marker. Mandy crowed when he landed on a chute that carried him almost to the bottom of the board. “Guess you’re going to win, huh?”

  She nodded vigorously, her blond braids bouncing on her shoulders. She grinned. “Mommy, I’m winning. Come see.”

  Elizabeth turned in her chair and looked down at the game. “Very good, sweetie.” She gave him a quick glance. A tiny spot of color stained each cheek, but she didn’t turn away.

  Travis was glad. He’d barely had time to recover from his obvious and somewhat painful reaction to their kiss when Rebecca had arrived for dinner. So far he hadn’t had the chance to make sure Elizabeth was all right. He told himself he hadn’t meant to kiss her, but he knew he was lying. He’d been thinking about it ever since her first night here, when he’d briefly touched her lips with his. He’d wanted to know if the heat between them was real or imagined. The still-burning scars reminded him the heat was plenty real. Their kiss had only made him want more.

  Which was, he acknowledged, an obvious problem. He didn’t want to get involved with Elizabeth for several reasons. Not only was she a guest in his house, but he knew better than to risk it all with someone like her. She was the kind of woman who believed in commitment and forever. He didn’t know how to do that. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t have what other men had to make something special last. Four generations of failed relationships couldn’t be argued with.

  But the kiss had been tempting. He only wished he’d had a chance to ask Elizabeth if everything was okay. But Rebecca and Mandy were in the room. If that wasn’t bad enough, his friend was taking perverse delight in telling Elizabeth a string of stories about his supposed conquests with women.

  “What about that trick roper you dated?” Rebecca asked.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “A trick roper. I don’t think I want to hear about that one.”

  Travis shook his head. “That happened about six years ago. Long before you’d even heard of Glenwood,” he said, turning to Rebecca. “You’re repeating gossip.”

  “I know. Isn’t it terrific?” She walked over and patted his shoulder. “I love this guy. He is the ultimate male weapon against women. One look and they go weak in the knees.”

  He rolled the dice and moved three places. Mandy rolled and won the game. She laughed with delight, then leaned forward and gave him a big hug. He held her close. Funny how both Abbott women got to him. Elizabeth made him want dangerous things, while Mandy made him feel a fierce need to protect her. And a longing to be more. He would give his soul to be a decent father to some kid. She planted a wet kiss on his cheek. Deep in his chest, he felt a sharp stab of pain piercing his heart.

  “You’re the best, Travis,” Mandy said.

  “I rest my case.” Rebecca headed for the kitchen.

  Mandy scrambled off his lap and followed “Becca,” as she called the other woman. He glanced up at Elizabeth still sitting in her seat watching him.

  “I took each of the nurses out once,” he said, wondering why he was defending himself. She wouldn’t believe him. No one ever did. “I don’t think I even kissed the second one good-night.”

  “Sure.” She smiled.

  “The trick roper was an old friend. I’d known her i
n college. You know people make up a lot of stories about me and my brothers. They think we get a lot more—” He hesitated, searching for a polite word.

  “Action?” she offered helpfully.

  “It wouldn’t have been my choice.”

  God, she was beautiful. The skinny straps of her rose sundress showed off her tanned shoulders. The long line of her neck made him remember how she’d tasted when he’d kissed her there. Her mouth was perfect, pulling into a wide smile. It was her eyes that always got to him, though. There was a wariness in her expression that seemed out of place. Was it that Sam guy who had made her cautious? What had happened in her life? What was the big secret? Hell, a man could go crazy thinking about it.

  He rose to his feet and took the chair next to hers. “A lot of people assume my brothers and I get a lot more action than we do. Part reputation, part circumstances.”

  She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her small ear. “Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?”

  “No, I’m trying to make sure we’re still friends.”

  “I would think you have so many women in your life that one more wouldn’t matter.”

  He leaned close to her, stopping only when their arms brushed. He was pleased that she didn’t move away. “I’m not talking about women in general. I’m talking about you. Friends?”

  She glanced at the tablecloth. He couldn’t see her expression, so he sweated it out. He hated that it mattered what she thought.

  “I’m not a jerk, Elizabeth. I’m not what everybody says.”

  “I know.” She bit her lower lip. “You’re a nice guy.”

  He winced.

  “You are!”

  “Great.”

  “You want to shake on it again?”

  He’d rather kiss on it, but hey, he would take what he could. Her hand felt small and delicate in his, but it was her smile that just about knocked him from his chair. She grinned up at him then leaned forward.

  “So tell me the real story about the trick roper.”