by Lori Wilde
Annie shrugged, sliced a stunningly sexy look his way. “There is just something about you, Brady Talmadge, that makes my blood sing.”
That should have scared him. Any other time, with anyone else, it would have him backpedaling. But instead, he thought, I ache to make you wail opera all night long. In my bed.
Her eyes widened and for a second he thought he said it out loud, but when she slapped her hand over her mouth, he realized she’d simply shocked herself. Their gazes locked and he remembered every single thing about her supple, smooth body. His fingers tingled, itched to undress her. His mouth hungered to taste her. His erection surged against the zipper of his jeans. “I’ve got a cure for that.”
She caught her bottom lip up between her teeth. “Is it terribly naughty? Your cure?”
Oh yeah.
“Hey, I thought we were supposed to meet up at the gate,” Joe said, ambling up with his arm thrown over his wife’s shoulder.
“Sorry for the miscommunication.” Brady shrugged.
“Thank you,” Annie whispered, and tightened her grip around his waist. Brady had to admit that the half hug felt pretty darn good.
As Joe unlocked the doors of his pickup truck, Brady leaned over to whisper. “One of these days you’re going to have to tell me what’s going on.”
“One of these days,” she promised with a nod.
Jolted, Brady—the guy who preferred to keep his relationships light, easy, and unattached—realized he’d just made future plans with a mysterious woman he barely knew, but couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of.
Annie lay in bed in the out-of-the-way cabin listening to the wind whip through the willow trees outside her bedroom window. Lady Astor snuggled beside her. If it weren’t for the little dog, she would feel so alone out here, especially after the wonderful evening she had just spent with Brady and his friends. But she had been having so much fun that she had allowed herself to be lured in by a false sense of security. Chandler and Strawn were still after her.
She understood now why Brady had stopped making love to her when he discovered she was a virgin. He was right. It would have meant something. He already meant something to her.
Curling on her side around Lady Astor, Annie whispered, “It’s okay. We’ve got each other. Through thick and thin. It’s me and you.”
Lady Astor roused, blinked, licked Annie’s cheek.
“It’s just a sweet dream. I know. Soon enough it will be over. But there’s no need for regret. We will remember this time for the rest of our lives.”
The Yorkie stretched, shook her head, put a paw on Annie’s shoulder.
“Do you need to go outside?”
Lady Astor gave a short bark.
“All right.” Annie threw back the covers and Lady Astor dived off the bed. She slipped her feet into slippers and, yawning, shambled for the door. The digital clock on the bedside stand glowed yellow. Two A.M. Tomorrow was her first day on her new job. She was not going to be at her best if she didn’t get some sleep soon.
She opened the door and stepped out on the veranda, hugging herself against the tepid breeze. Lady Astor ran down the steps, barking fiercely, and disappeared into the dark. Goose bumps raised on Annie’s arms. She’d read stories of Texas. Knew there were rattlesnakes and coyotes and bobcats and other dangers lurking in the brush.
“Lady Astor,” she called sharply, her heart racing. “Come back here now.”
As usual, the headstrong dog did not obey, she ran like Toto going after a flying monkey. Suddenly, her barking ceased.
Annie’s stomach pitched and she scurried after the Yorkie heedless of her own safety. “Lady Astor!” she cried, imagining horrible things. What if an owl had swooped down and snatched the little dog in its talons? “Lady Astor!”
The clouds shifted and the moon came out. A man stepped from the shadows.
Annie halted.
It felt as if those glow-in-the-dark spiders from the Fright House were scrambling over her skin. Was it one of her bodyguards? Had they tracked her from the carnival?
Then she saw that the man had Lady Astor in his arms and the dog was joyfully licking his face with puppy kisses. All her limbs went weak. “Brady,” she whispered.
“Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
He set Lady Astor on the ground and she ran circles around him as he ambled closer to Annie. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d take a walk.”
“I couldn’t sleep either.”
He kept coming, encroaching on her personal space until the tips of his boots almost touched her house slippers.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said.
She shifted, feeling invaded, but she did not back up. She held her ground. Raised her chin. Summoned every ounce of royal blood she possessed. “Yes?”
“The other night, in my trailer, I made a mistake.”
“Oh?” The wind snapped her nightgown, blowing the flimsy material against her breasts, but Brady’s eyes did not leave her face. She felt dizzy, giddy.
“If you’re still interested in losing your virginity, I’d be honored to . . . Ah crap, this isn’t coming out right.” He jammed fingers through his hair.
“No, no, you were absolutely right. I understand now what you meant, why you refused me,” she said. “It was the right decision.”
At the same moment, he said, “What I mean to say is, I want it to be me. I want to be the guy who, you know . . . ushers you to womanhood.”
She put two fingers to her mouth to suppress a giggle. “Ushers me to womanhood?”
“See, there’s no good way to say this that doesn’t sound cheesy or creepy. It’s why I’ve been pacing up and down in the dark trying to get up enough courage to knock on your door.”
“But what about my secrets? You told me you don’t like secretive people.”
“I don’t. Normally. But you . . . well, I just want to be with you. Make love to you. I don’t care why you’ve held on to your virginity for so long. I don’t care if you’re a nun running away from the nunnery. I don’t care if you’ve just escaped from Siberia. I don’t care if you got a fatal diagnosis and you’ve decided to live life to the fullest before you die . . .” He cringed. Brought both hands to the side of his head. “No, no, I don’t mean that. I do care. I care very much. I’m mangling this. Let me just leave now and forget this conversation ever happened.”
He turned to leave, but she put a restraining hand to his arm. “Wait.”
Brady turned back. Hope glimmered in his eyes. “Yes?”
“I want you too.”
He inhaled audibly. “Okay, wow, that’s great.”
“But,” she said, “you have to realize that this can’t mean anything long-term.”
“Because of your secret?”
“Yes. I can only stay in America for six weeks. Are you still interested?”
He looked as if he simultaneously wanted to dance a jig and throw up. “I’m not ready for anything long-term either. But I don’t want to sound like a jerk. I don’t want to be a jerk. I just can’t get you out of my mind.”
“I cannot stop thinking about you either.”
He took her hand, laced his fingers through hers. “I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”
“I feel the same way,” she said. “About hurting you, I mean.”
“So.”
“So.”
“Can we do this? Can we make love and not hurt each other?” she whispered.
He nodded. “I think so. If we go into this with our eyes open.”
“I am willing to give it a try if you are.”
“If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right,” Brady said. “We need to make your first time special. Even if this relationship is temporary, I want you to know you’re still special to me.”
Annie felt her cheeks heat. “You are special to me too.”
“We need to date. Take this slow. Pla
y it out. Savor this experience,” he said.
“Brady.” She breathed. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
He traced her jaw with his left thumb, his right hand still holding hers. The way he stroked her felt so incredibly intimate. He leaned in.
The night sighed.
Annie sighed.
His mouth brushed hers, light as a whisper. His hand cupped the back of her head, her lips parted.
She was flying, floating free.
One sweet kiss, but no more. Brady pulled back. He was tormenting her. “That’s enough for now,” he murmured on a whisper so heavy it cracked the silent night. “If we keep kissing I won’t be able to control myself.”
Then with that he turned and stalked away into the darkness, leaving Annie feeling as if she had just found a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
For the next two days, Prissy and Lissette showed Annie the ropes at The Bride Wore Cowboy Boots. She was busy enough, learning her new position as receptionist/gofer, but she couldn’t stop wondering when Brady would call or show up. So far, all she’d seen of him was when she passed him in the corral on her walk from the cabin to catch a ride into town with Mariah.
He grinned and teased and sent an appreciative gaze over her body, but he never said one word about a date. It was driving her to distraction. To keep from thinking about him, she threw herself into her work.
On Wednesday, the sister of the bride who was getting married that Saturday showed up with her young four-year-old daughter in tow. “We came to get her ears pierced,” the woman announced.
“Come on into the back,” Prissy said, “and I’ll get you all fixed up.”
They disappeared into the back room and emerged a few minutes later, the little girl sporting a pair of flower-shaped studs. “I’m gonna be the flower girl,” she announced to Annie.
“What a pretty flower girl you will make.”
“I have a white basket and it’s gonna be filled with rose petals. I hafta drop ’em as I walk down the aisle.”
“I know you are going to do an excellent job.” Annie smiled.
The little girl took her mother’s hand and skipped happily as they left the shop.
“We offer ear piercing service?” Annie asked.
“I do,” Prissy said. “You want me to pierce your ears?”
“I would love that.”
“Let me get my box and you can pick out a pair.” Prissy disappeared into the back of the store and returned with a small briefcase. “You have to start with studs, until your ears heal.”
She opened up the case and set it on the desk for Annie to select a pair. There were diamond studs, plain gold studs, longhorn cow studs, opal studs, and two silver cobweb circles with a silver feather caught in each web.
“What is this?” Annie asked, pointing at the silver circle studs.
“It’s a dream catcher.”
“Oh, so that’s what a dream catcher looks like.” Annie had read about dream catchers. “A dream catcher is perfect.” When she was in Dubinstein she could put on those earrings and remember that for one brief moment in time she had captured her dreams. “These are the ones I want.”
“Great. Let me just get the gun.”
Prissy disappeared.
“Prissy’s got a steamroller personality,” Mariah said. “Don’t let her talk you into getting your ears pierced if you don’t want to get them pierced.”
“I want to get them pierced. I have always wanted to get them pierced.”
“How come you haven’t done it before now?”
“My mother said—” Annie broke off, Queen Evangeline’s voice in her head. Common people poke holes in their ears. Royalty doesn’t disfigure their bodies, Annabella. “My mother had a phobia of germs. She was scared I would get an infection.”
“You’re long past the age where you have to do what your mother says.”
“I know.” Annie tugged on her earlobe. “That is why I am in Texas.”
“Okay, here we go.” Prissy came back into the room. “You ready?”
“Yes.” She cringed.
“Push your hair back from your ears.”
Annie complied.
Prissy marked Annie’s ears with a fine-tip Sharpie, and then had Annie look into a hand mirror. “Is this where you want them pierced?”
“That looks right.”
Prissy cleaned Annie’s ears with an alcohol wipe, and then went to the sink to wash her hands. Without touching the earrings, she loaded the piercing gun with the silver dream catcher starter studs.
“Is this going to hurt?” For shame, Annabella, that sounded whiny. Maybe, but it was difficult sitting here waiting for pain. Anticipation could scramble your thinking.
“It’ll sting for just a second.” Prissy waved a hand. “It’ll be over before you know it.”
Annie took a deep breath.
Prissy eyed Annie’s earlobe, stepped forward.
Annie held up a hand. “Wait, wait.”
“What is it?”
“I just need a minute.”
“You’re allowed to back out,” Mariah said.
“No, I do not want to back out. I simply want to be prepared.”
“Tell me when.” Prissy stepped aside.
Annie steeled herself, gripped the arms of the chair. “All right. I am prepared.”
The gun made a quick, soft popping sound. First one ear, then the next. Prissy was finished before the mild sting set in.
Annie blinked. “Why, that was nothing.”
“Told you. Look.” Prissy held the hand mirror up.
Annie admired her reflection in the mirror. Her lobes turned light pink, but the silver dream catcher studs looked so pretty nestled there. “Hmm. I like it.”
“Just wait until you can wear regular earrings. You’ll go nuts. You have a lot of time to make up for,” Prissy said, and then told her how to care for her newly pierced ears.
“How much do I owe you?” She fingered her ears. Felt truly wanton.
“The earrings are $39.99 plus tax.”
“And the piercing?”
“That’s on the house.”
“Thank you, thank you very much.”
“Hey, that grin on your face is thanks enough.”
Annie pulled money from her satchel and paid Prissy.
“I bet Brady will love them.” Prissy gave her a thumbs-up.
Right. If he ever saw her in them. She was starting to worry that he had changed his mind about her completely.
On the drive home that afternoon, Mariah said, “I’ve noticed you’ve got some mad diplomatic skills, Annie.”
“Mad?” She frowned, not understanding the reference. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all. It means you’re really good at handling people.”
“Thank you,” Annie said. “I have always believed you should treat people the way you would like to be treated.”
“I’ve got to go to Fort Worth on Friday to meet with clients, but I also have a mother of the bride who wants to come check out the facilities here at the ranch that same morning, and I was wondering if I could count on you to show her around.”
“Why me?” Annie asked, feeling flattered.
“You have the grace and finesse that Prissy lacks. I love Prissy dearly, but the woman who is coming to the ranch is from Dallas. She’s wealthy, old money, politically connected, and she expects to be kowtowed to. I know she’ll fall in love with Lissette’s cakes and baking skills, but we need for Melinda Messing to fall in love with the venue as well. I’m confident that you can sell her on it.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence.”
“Since you don’t have a lot of clothes, I thought you might want to borrow one of my business suits.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“We’ll stop by the house before I take you to the cabin.”
Once they were at Green Ridge, Annie couldn’t keep from searching for Brady, but hi
s truck was gone from the driveway. Disappointed, she started to wonder if perhaps she had dreamed the whole late night conversation they’d had outside her cabin in the wee hours of Monday morning. If his plan had been to make her yearn and ache and crave, it was certainly working.
On Friday, exactly one week after Annie had run away from Echo Glover’s wedding rehearsal dinner, Melinda Messing arrived at Green Ridge Ranch looking like the Highland Park socialite that she was—put together like a porcelain doll in Dolce & Gabbana from head to toe.
Annie herself wore a navy blue Ellen Tracy suit with a peach-colored blouse and designer pumps that Mariah had loaned her. She felt more like her regal self and it was a stiff, unnatural sensation. Until that moment, she did not realize how a regimented life showed up in her posture, stance, and mental outlook. She had quickly grown to love the relaxed ease of cowboy boots and blue jeans. And since she had not seen either Chandler or Strawn since that night at the carnival, she had stopped jumping at shadows and slowly began to think she would get her full six weeks of freedom.
After introducing herself to the woman, Annie showed her around the grounds.
“You look very familiar to me.” Melinda Messing cocked her head. Studied Annie. “Have we met?”
“I am new to Texas.”
She tapped her chin. “I’ve seen you somewhere before. Do you know former President Glover?”
Annie froze. Was it possible the woman had been a guest at the presidential compound and by some awful quirk of fate could have remembered her? “The guests will park here.” Annie evaded the question, gesturing to a wide-open area where the grass was mown short and cordoned off by a short limestone wall. “And they’ll walk this way to the chapel.”
Luckily, that sidetracked her. “My daughter, Peyton, is marrying a cutting horse cowboy.” Mrs. Messing sniffed. “I wanted her to get married at Christ Church in Highland Park, but oh no, she insists on getting married in a field in Jubilee.”
“The wedding can be as simple or as elegant as you wish. Mariah Daniels has extensive experience in wedding planning,” Annie said, then went on to share Mariah’s résumé with her just the way her new boss had coached her. “I have photographs I can show you of some of the weddings her company has orchestrated.”