The Adventurous Bride

by Molly Liholm

  “You’re my adventure,” Meg murmured

  About the Author

  Books by Molly Liholm

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Copyright

  “You’re my adventure,” Meg murmured

  Ridiculous woman. Adam tightened his grasp on her shoulders and heard her suck in her breath. He pulled her closer to him, so that they were touching. She didn’t resist; instead she looped her arms around his neck.

  “Are you trying to frighten me?” she asked softly, her breath hot against his cheek.

  With one hand he cupped a breast, waiting for her to push away. Instead her eyes widened and her mouth opened with a sigh. That’s when he lost it. He covered her parted lips with his. Kissed her hard and deep and lost himself in her.

  She was so sweet. He angled his mouth to take the kiss further. She filled all of his senses—she was all he could think of, all he could imagine. His hands explored her body—the sweet fullness of her breasts, the lush curve of her hips. Her body fit him so perfectly, he could easily imagine them together naked.

  He wanted to make love to her.

  He wanted to make love to Meg more than he’d wanted to make love to any woman in a long time.

  Instead he pulled away from her. This was insane. He was not going to become involved with Megan Cooper.

  Meg smiled at him and he felt a reluctant tug.

  “That’s twice,” she said. “If you kiss me once more, we’ll be lovers.”

  Molly Liholm loved her visit to Sedona, Arizona, and did indeed spend time communing with the vortexes—she figured it couldn’t hurt! The Arizona landscape is breathtakingly beautiful. The town is populated by interesting characters. Morever, the positive power of the place must have helped, because she had a lot of fun writing about an abandoned bride searching for her own happy ending. The Adventurous Bride is a delightful spinoff to Molly’s February Temptation novel, The Getaway Groom, where we first met the heroine Meg.

  Molly lives in Toronto, Canada, where she longs for the nice weather of Sedona!

  Books by Molly Liholm

  HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

  552—TEMPTING JAKE

  643—BOARDROOM BABY

  672—THE GETAWAY GROOM

  Don’t miss any of our special offers. Write to us at the following address for information on our newest releases.

  Harlequin Reader Service

  U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

  Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

  THE ADVENTUROUS BRIDE

  Molly Liholm

  TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON

  AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG

  STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID

  PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND

  For Maggie Strawbridge

  a good friend who knows how to tell

  a really funny story

  1

  SHE NEEDED A MAN.

  Megan Elizabeth Cooper had considered the idea all day long as she rang up her customers’ purchases. Meg’s feet hurt, her neck was stiff and she was tired, but she couldn’t get the thought out of her head. She would have closed the shop a few minutes early if Gloria Logan hadn’t arrived just as she was thinking of locking the door and turning over the sign to read Closed. Then she could slip upstairs and enjoy her Saturday night ritual of a long bubble bath, followed by pizza and a video. But Gloria was a frequent client at the bookstore, coming in every two weeks and always buying a substantial selection of novels, so there was no way Meg could ask her to hurry up.

  Especially not for pizza and a video. Beautiful Gloria with her choice of men would never understand. Meg sighed. How had she ended up like this?

  Once again Meg studied the virile, barely dressed, extremely broad shouldered heroes on the covers of the dozen romance novels that Gloria had chosen, and decided she needed a man exactly like one of those romantic characters. He would certainly liven up her Saturday night routine.

  A romance novel hero? She was definitely losing it, Meg thought. Sure, she needed more adventure in her life, but get real. Had the last fourteen months really led to this? To Saturday night all alone, dreaming of paperback hunks? All that was missing from the classic spinster image was the cat.

  No, her little voice argued. A strong, virile hero was exactly what she wanted. A man who stood up for his beliefs. A man who valued women. Who wouldn’t be afraid to commit. Unlike her fiancé. No, she was wrong once again. Her fiancé had been perfectly willing to commit, only not to her. She wasn’t really sorry that Max had decided to marry Emma instead of her. It was just that after fourteen months of looking, Meg thought she would have figured out what she was looking for.

  Gloria noticed Meg eyeing her selections. “Gorgeous, aren’t they?” She sighed dreamily, tracing the bronzed pectoral muscles of the open-shirted pirate on one of the covers with a well-manicured fingernail. Gloria’s pink lips curved in a soft smile. “If I ever met a man like that, I’d keep him.”

  Meg was surprised. “You must meet a lot of different types of men on the ranch.” Indeed, with Gloria’s angelic blond curls and wide blue eyes, petite yet curvaceous figure, men fell all over themselves trying to get to her. There might have been something that bothered Meg about Gloria, but there was no denying that she was gorgeous. While Meg considered herself attractive, she’d never had the knockout effect Gloria had on men. The best Meg had ever done was perhaps a mild concussion.

  Gloria frowned. “All city slickers looking for a little adventure.” She shook her head, her curls framing her face. “Corporate guys in suits aren’t my idea of heroic.”

  Heroic. Meg tested that word. Did she really want a hero?

  “No cowboys?” she asked Gloria instead. The books Gloria had chosen featured a pirate, a dashing knight and several clones of the Antonio Banderas desperado type, but Meg knew the romance rack also featured a plethora of cowboys. She rather liked cowboys.

  Gloria wrinkled her perfectly pert nose in disgust. “I want an ideal fantasy man. Not some stinky old cowboy I can find around here anytime.” She studied Meg, and Meg hoped she wasn’t blushing. She’d sought adventure in Sedona, Arizona, because she liked cowboys. All her life, she’d been fascinated by Western TV shows, Zane Grey novels and Clint Eastwood. But Gloria didn’t ask about Meg’s preferences. Instead, she said, “My brother asked me to invite you to dinner on Thursday.”

  Now Meg knew she was blushing. Reid Logan was a cowboy and a very successful rancher. Moreover he was a really good-looking cowboy. He had one of the largest cattle-raising properties in the state. Reid had invited her to the Liberty L once, and Meg had enjoyed visiting a real ranch and riding the range with a real cowboy. A very sexy cowboy.

  As well as being a cattle ranch, the Liberty L hosted a very exclusive dude ranch operation. Gloria was the apparent brains behind the fantasy vacation, handling small groups of high-paying guests looking for the Western “experience.” Reid hadn’t thought much of Gloria’s operation, he’d admitted when Meg questioned him, but he’d said it gave Gloria something to do. Reid’s clear affection for his sister, his willingness to let his younger sibling find some sort of career for herself were traits that Meg found appealing. She beli
eved in family loyalty.

  And Reid was appealing himself, with broad shoulders, sun-bronzed hair and a mischievous smile. His “aw shucks, ma’am” demeanor didn’t hide his quick intelligence or the sudden flare of interest she’d spied in his blue eyes more than once when he’d looked at her.

  Maybe she should take Reid Logan up on his unspoken offer.

  After all, she’d always liked cowboys.

  In her other life, the one that Max tore apart, some of her favorite books she’d edited for her family’s publishing company had featured rugged Western mavericks. Meg wondered if fate was trying to tell her something. Kismet. The forces of the universe bringing her to the Southwest to live out her dreams. Then she wouldn’t be the dumped bride anymore. Instead she’d be the adventurous bride, a wild, daring woman who found the man of her dreams in cowboy country.

  No, she had simply been living in Sedona for too long. Its mystical beliefs were beginning to sink in. Soon she, too, would be believing in the power of the vortexes, in crystals and magic. She shook herself. She was a hardheaded and hard-hearted New Yorker. Still...it would be nice to believe that fate was taking care of her life for her. That she didn’t have to.

  That adventure would just come barging through her door.

  Meg noticed she was unconsciously tapping her finger against the cash desk. She thought she’d stopped that bad habit once she’d arrived in Sedona. Clearly, she needed to do something different with her life. “I’d be happy to come to dinner,” she announced, deciding that Reid Logan might indeed be the man for her. Ever since her aborted nuptials she’d been man-shy. Perhaps it was past time to get back in the saddle. She’d encourage Reid’s interest and find out. After all, she and Reid did have a lot in common. They were both the responsible ones in their families, the ones who struggled on despite the odds. Plus, sex with a handsome cowboy had always been one of her favorite fantasies.

  Sex had been the mistake she’d made with Max. They had agreed to wait until their honeymoon to consummate their relationship. And what had happened? He’d married someone else—the bridal consultant!

  Yet Meg had to admit that her hard-hearted, hardheaded New York self seemed to have mellowed. Nothing was so important that she had to rush through her days. Before, deadlines and the competition had had her racing to simply keep up. The need to sign up the next bestselling author before another editor could had always driven her. Now, however, she had time to look around, to enjoy the sunsets and the spectacular scenery of the red rock country. Driving through the desert, she could stop and spend hours looking at its changing colors; the wondrous reds varied in richness and brilliance according to the sun and clouds. She was thrilled by every change and nuance.

  Moreover, she positively enjoyed working at the store, gossiping with the customers. She’d never had time for that in New York. There all her days had been filled with thoughts about Scorpion Books. How her books, the books that she had acquired and edited, would sell. How she could steal away a top-name author from another publishing house. Her job had been her life. She’d worried more about the company and loved it more than she’d loved Max. Max hadn’t made a mistake marrying Emma Delaney.

  As Gloria paid, took her bag of romance novels and waved as she sashayed out the door, Meg considered yet again what it was that she really wanted. She wandered over to the romance section of the shop and studied all the heroic bare chests displayed on the racks in front of her.

  What in the world was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she ever be satisfied? She’d spent the last fourteen months searching within herself for what she truly wanted in life, yet she still didn’t know what she was seeking. In Sedona, however, for the first time, she’d been happy. The last four months felt good. Sedona and this shop, The Gateway, felt like where she was supposed to be. Meg smiled at her own thoughts; she really was turning into a New Ager.

  But she’d also found herself falling into old habits. She’d agreed to manage The Gateway for Abigail Milton, so that Abby could spend more time on her search for spirituality—and have more time to play with her state-of-the-art computers, which Meg sometimes thought gave Abby more pleasure than the search for inner peace. When she’d taken over, the New Age store had specialized in crystals, angels and natural medicines. The book section had consisted of one small rack holding bestsellers that were long out-of-date according to New York publishing standards. Meg made some changes. The book section now filled half the shop and sold briskly.

  Meg was a little surprised at how instinctively she understood public taste, but then it wasn’t so different from her old job. Even though both the tourists and residents of Sedona were there for the mystical properties of the place, to experience the powers of the vortexes, they still liked to read the latest legal thriller or romance novel.

  Rubbing a knot in her neck, Meg cast one last look at the glistening, alluring covers. She was going to give Reid Logan a chance. And if he wasn’t what she was looking for, well then, maybe it was time to go back to New York, to go back home.

  Maybe she should just accept the fact that she wasn’t going to find adventure here.

  She needed to lock the front door before she emptied the till and deposited the cash in the wall safe. While Sedona was a quiet, peaceful town, Meg was glad she didn’t have to walk alone in the dark to the bank to make a night deposit. There was too much of the Manhattanite in her to trust even a friendly little town like this.

  But not so much of the old Manhattanite anymore. No Donna Karan power suits for her in Sedona. Her well-faded jeans and feminine pink blouse were a far cry from her professional-urban-career-woman look. She sighed, fingering the ruffles. She liked her new look. It was a lot softer, reflecting a side of herself that she had previously ignored. Maybe she should stay. But in the last letter she’d received from her father, he’d begged her to return. Was she really willing to give up the career that she had prepared for so carefully and thoroughly, a profession she’d centered her whole life around, a job she had truly loved? She’d still be sitting in her corner office of Scorpion Books if it hadn’t been for her abruptly canceled wedding. Would she have been happy if she’d stayed? If Max hadn’t abandoned her, would she just have continued as always? No, even before the debacle with Max, she’d begun to fear that her career had become her life. And that a life centered around work wasn’t enough.

  She missed her father and her brother, however. Wasn’t it immature of her to be afraid to return? Was she really jealous of their happiness? Her brother had recently eloped with Sarah Tepper, and Meg suspected her father would be making his own wedding announcement soon.

  Everyone in her family had found true love, except her. No wonder she was spending too much time staring at romance novel covers!

  Meg turned her back on the books and straightened her shoulders. She had to finish closing the shop before she could retreat upstairs and enjoy her Saturday night. Alone and loving it, she thought with a weak grimace. At the door, Meg turned over the Closed sign and had begun to twist the lock—it was tricky and needed jiggling—when she was thrust backward by the force of the door swinging in. She stumbled, caught herself and opened her mouth to tell the rude customer that the store was closed. The words died away and her mouth gaped open as she stared.

  She was staring at a gun. A Smith & Wesson .45, she realized, having edited a very successful police-procedural series. Refusing to give in to the panic threatening her, she let her thoughts drift to wondering how the police procedural writer, Doug Hatfield, a homicide lieutenant, was doing. She’d write to him tomorrow. He’d get a kick out of hearing about her radically different new life.

  If she was alive.

  Back to reality. This was one time when she wished her propensity for daydreaming could take her far, far away from the gun pointing at her. Back to her nice safe office in Manhattan. A nice corner office with a view of Central Park. What had ever made her give it up for adventure?

  She tried to take a deep breath but coul
dn’t get air into her lungs. Her legs began to shake, and she could hear the blood pounding in her head. Pull yourself together, Cooper, she told herself angrily. You’re faced with a dangerous situation. This is not the time to faint. She had to think. She was proud of how she could always reason her way through any situation.

  Her powers of reason fled at the sight of the dangerous man holding the dangerous gun.

  He looked ruthless, his hard face not handsome but compelling. Stubble covered his chin and Meg could see several bruises along his jaw. Dressed in dusty jeans, a T-shirt and dark leather jacket, he could have stepped off the covers of one of the romance novels that Gloria Logan had bought.

  Meg felt an incredible urge to run her fingers along his battered face, to soothe him.

  She gasped, raising her traitorous hands to her mouth to cover her reaction. Her palms were sweaty.

  “Quiet,” the man ordered, his voice low and gravelly. Meg felt a bead of sweat trickle down her spine, and she kept her hands over her mouth to stop herself from saying something foolish.

  Her shocked gaze locked with his. Green eyes. She’d always been partial to green eyes.

  “Move,” he ordered again, waving his gun toward the center of the shop, indicating she should stand there, far away from the front door. She did as he asked, keeping her eyes away from the cash register. What was she doing, trying to distract attention away from the money? She should be pointing him toward it and away from herself. Another bead of sweat trickled down her spine and she shivered. Surely this man wasn’t an ordinary thief? No, he couldn’t be. For some reason she was convinced that he wasn’t.