Project: Runaway Bride

by Heidi Betts

  The one thing she knew for sure was that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she got back. To everyone.

  Already, her cell phone’s voice-mail box was filled to overflowing. According to the call log, it had started ringing only moments after she’d fled the church. As soon as her sisters had realized she was missing, she assumed.

  But even though she knew her family must be worried sick, and the frequent ringing and beeping of her phone had driven her almost batty, she hadn’t bothered to check missed calls or listen to messages. She hadn’t even taken the time to turn the phone off until she’d been on the road and well away from Manhattan.

  Instead, she’d hurried back to the loft she shared with her sisters, ignoring the strange looks she received from random strangers for racing around in public in her full-skirted, custom-made fairy-princess bridal gown, and grabbed her phone, money and a single change of clothes. She hadn’t known where she was going or how long she’d be gone, but even though she hadn’t wanted to take the time to slip out of the wedding dress right then and there, she’d suspected racing around in the thing would get old fast.

  She’d been on the road a couple hours before deciding to head for the lake house, partly because she knew it would be well stocked with everything from food to clothing. Reception was lousy, though, so once she finally turned off her cell, it was doubtful anyone could reach her unless they sent up smoke signals or parachuted in.

  And it was only for a few days, she told herself again. Just until she cleared her head and figured out what to do...about everything.

  She was panting slightly as she reached the top of the hill and the end of the path that led into the clearing surrounding the cabin. It was brighter here, and warmer with the sun shining down on the house through the break in the trees.

  Shading her eyes, she followed one long side of the wraparound porch railing to the front door...and came to a screeching halt at the sight of a hunter-green Range Rover parked right behind her silver-blue BMW.

  Her heart lurched. Who did it belong to? Had someone followed her, or was it a complete stranger? And if it was a stranger, had he simply happened by—hard to do when the cabin was nearly impossible to find without directions—or was he, or she, up to no good?

  A dozen home invasion/hostage movie-of-the-week scenarios played through her head and she swallowed nervously, wondering if she should move forward to investigate or race back the way she’d come to hide in the woods or hike into town for help.

  Before she could make a decision, she heard a creak and heavy footsteps clipped across the porch floor. Her head swiveled and she found herself staring up into the dark, dangerous eyes of Reid McCormack.

  One corner of his mouth lifted in a humorless, almost feral grin. “Hey there, runaway bride.”

  Four

  Reid knew he shouldn’t, but he was enjoying the look of shocked dismay on Juliet’s face.

  He hadn’t wanted to come here. Hadn’t wanted to see her again knowing she’d been ready to walk down the aisle and marry another man. Even after calling things off once. Even after all they’d shared. And on top of it all, she’d been ready to marry a man who hadn’t treated her right—at least not since Reid had met her.

  But he’d promised her sisters. And yes, there was a part of him that needed to know she was okay.

  Clearly, she was, so he could head back to New York now. Leave her to her own mysterious devices. Let her explain to her family why she’d run off in the first place. He’d said he’d find her, not that he’d provide an essay on the reasons behind her sudden disappearance.

  Still, he didn’t move from where he stood on the porch of her family’s lake house, hands gripping the railing.

  She licked her lips, the tendons of her throat flexing as she swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Funny thing about your family,” he replied sardonically. “No matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of them. You Zaccaro girls seem to think I’m your personal problem solver.”

  “My sisters called you?” she asked in little more than a whisper.

  “No. They showed up at my office on a Saturday, less than an hour after you ran off from your own wedding. Care to explain that one?”

  She threw her shoulders back, lifted her chin. “It’s none of your business what I do.”

  True. She’d made that clear even while they were seeing each other, sneaking around and burning up the sheets behind everyone else’s backs because she hadn’t wanted anyone to know about their involvement. Too bad he was part rat terrier; nothing made him dig in his heels more than being told to get lost. It was what made him such an exceptional investigator.

  Pushing away from the porch railing, he straightened. “Right. But since I’m here...”

  He trailed off, letting her head fill with question marks over what he’d been about to say and what his intentions were. Turning on his heel, he crossed the porch and went inside, leaving her to follow.

  Or not. But if she ran, on foot or by car, he would chase her down. And he’d catch her. Again.

  * * *

  Who did he think he was?

  Juliet stood frozen in place, scared spitless and furious beyond belief both at the same time. If that was even possible.

  She couldn’t believe he’d found her so quickly. Although maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised, given his skill set and how good she knew him to be at his job.

  But even if her sisters had gone to him for help, she didn’t know why he’d agreed to look for her. She’d been pretty sure he hated her, given their last interaction. The one where she’d thanked him for being so nice and showing her a good time, but told him she didn’t think things would work out between them and that they shouldn’t see each other anymore.

  He’d always had the softest brown eyes, like melted chocolate or a big cup of cappuccino. From the first moment she’d locked gazes with him, those eyes had told her he was strong and kind and trustworthy.

  Not exactly thoughts she should have been having about a man other than her fiancé, but tell that to her heart or her gut or whatever else was screaming at her louder than her IQ.

  It was why she’d broken things off with Paul the first time around. Her attraction to Reid had become too overwhelming, driving her almost inexorably into his arms. She wasn’t the type to carry on an affair while she was engaged to another man, though, and knew that she couldn’t continue to feign interest in her upcoming nuptials when her heart was no longer in it. But once she was free to explore her feelings with Reid—and he’d been all too happy to reciprocate—the intensity had scared her.

  Maybe that was why she’d run away. Not from her wedding, but from him. Gone running back to Paul, pretending her time with Reid had never happened. Because he was a man she could all too easily fall in love with.

  As far as everyone else was concerned, she’d still been promised to Paul all along.

  She hadn’t known how to tell her parents that she’d called off the wedding after they’d put so much time, money and emotion into planning the event. Not to mention how much they’d been looking forward to having Paul as a son-in-law.

  She’d never worked up the courage to tell her sisters, either. Because then she would have had to tell them about Reid, and she hadn’t quite been ready for that discussion. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Lily and Zoe with the information but simply that she didn’t yet know how to put her confusing, jumbled-up emotions into words.

  Then things had gotten a bit too serious with Reid and begun to scare her. So what had she done? She’d tucked tail and run. Something she realized was becoming a nasty habit.

  Or maybe she was just unlucky in love and would mess up any relationship she got into. In which case, why not stick with the status quo?

  No one except Reid and Paul had known she’d broken the engagement, and Paul had never given up trying to get her to change her mind. He’d apologized again for losing his temper with her. Agreed that commutin
g back and forth between Connecticut and New York was a compromise he’d be willing to make, at least for the first few years of their marriage. And he’d assured her that if designing with her sisters was what she enjoyed, then of course he wanted her to continue her partnership in Zaccaro Fashions.

  It was everything she’d ever wanted to hear from him, and falling back into the role of his fiancée was so easy.... Why not simply go through with it after all?

  It had all made so much sense at the time.

  Fate, however, seemed to be working against her.

  She had turned her back on Reid with every intention of doing what everybody expected and settling down with Paul....

  Boom! The stick had turned blue and she’d discovered she was pregnant with Reid’s child.

  She’d run away from her wedding to avoid marrying a man who wasn’t the father of her child....

  Boom! Her sisters had sent out the private-sector version of the National Guard to track her down.

  She’d snuck off to her family’s lake house in Vermont to hide out for a while....

  Boom! The very man she’d least wanted to deal with was the one to find her. The one she’d suddenly found herself alone with in the wilderness.

  There was a message in there somewhere. A lesson. A cruel, cruel irony.

  And no matter how much she might wish otherwise, she didn’t think Reid would be leaving any time soon. Never mind that he’d done his job—he’d found her, made sure she was okay. He could go back to New York now and report as much to her family.

  But he wouldn’t. He would stick around and make her just a little bit miserable first. At least if his arrogant, uninvited disappearance into the cabin was anything to go by.

  Juliet considered staying outside. All night, if necessary. Frankly, if the keys to her BMW hadn’t been on a hook in the kitchen—oh, so far away—she would have jumped in the car and raced at sixty or seventy miles per hour in the other direction.

  With a sigh, she began to wonder if she would forever feel like running away. And if there was anywhere far enough away to truly escape the myriad problems surrounding her like quicksand.

  The smart thing to do would be to face those problems head-on, but no way was she ready for that. Not yet. It was too much, happening all too fast. She still needed time to work it out for herself, let alone figuring out how to tell the rest of the world—or the few people directly involved, at least—what was going on.

  Taking a deep breath, she moved the rest of the way around the house, climbing the wide plank porch steps to the front door. She didn’t know what Reid wanted, exactly. Other than finding her, as her sisters had asked, he really didn’t have any reason to stick around. But she knew him well enough to realize he wouldn’t leave until he was darn good and ready.

  So she would play along. She’d become a rather good actress over the past several months.

  She would simply do the same now, until Reid tired of toying with her and decided to leave her alone. Blessedly alone.

  Pulling open the screen, she stepped inside, closing the heavier wood-and-beveled-glass door behind her. Across the way, Reid stood at the kitchen island, making himself at home by pouring himself a glass of orange juice—one of the few things Juliet had picked up at the small general store in town on her way to the cabin. He took a few long swallows before returning the carton to the refrigerator.

  Crossing the wide-open space of the living room with its floor-to-ceiling windows facing the lake, she pulled out a stool and took a seat directly across from him, keeping the width of the island between them.

  She had to bite her tongue to keep from asking why he was there, what he wanted from her, why he wouldn’t leave. But she knew if she spoke first, she would lose what little solid ground she currently possessed. Better to remain silent and let him steer the direction of their conversation so she at least had a clue of what was going on in that labyrinthine mind of his.

  The seconds ticked by. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Then he pulled out a stool of his own and sank down as casually as though he’d lived there all his life.

  That had been something else about him that attracted her. How comfortable he seemed to be, no matter his surroundings. Of course, she supposed a man like Reid had earned that right. An ex-army ranger. A self-made millionaire. He’d been everywhere, done everything.

  She didn’t think he was afraid of much, either. Which wasn’t to say that he let his guard down. If anything, he seemed to be always on the alert, hyperaware of what was going on around him. Another trait that had made her feel safe when she was with him.

  When he finally spoke, his deep voice filling the quiet, yawning space of the house, Juliet jumped.

  “So...you want to tell me what’s going on?”

  She licked her lips, buying time while her mind raced and her pulse returned to normal. “Nothing’s going on. I just needed to get away for a while.”

  One dark brow winged upward. “You needed to get away,” he repeated. “In the middle of your wedding ceremony. Isn’t that what the honeymoon is for?”

  Technically, it was before the wedding, not in the middle, but she could hear the bitterness in his tone as he muttered the word honeymoon, so she decided not to split hairs.

  Her own stomach roiled at the thought—of being married to Paul right now, of going off with him somewhere isolated and alone. He’d booked tickets to Fiji, but her first choice had been Paris. She’d wanted to tour the Louvre and take in the cutting-edge fashions, bring home ideas for her own line of handbags and anything Lily and Zoe might like to apply to their designs. Of course, Paul hadn’t really wanted her to continue her design work, despite his assertions when he was trying to mollify her, so he’d nixed that idea in exchange for sun, sand and skimpily clad fellow vacationers.

  When she didn’t respond, Reid lifted the glass to his lips and said snidely, “Maybe you finally came to your senses and decided you didn’t want to be that jerk-off’s punching bag for the next fifty years.”

  “Paul never punched me,” she muttered automatically, then wondered why the heck she was defending him. It seemed like rather a moot point now, and was none of Reid’s business either way.

  But instead of being placated, Reid’s temper flared. His scowl deepened as he snapped, “Does it matter? He put his hands on you. He left bruises. He used his size and brute strength to bully you.”

  He was up and off the stool now, coming around the island to face her more fully. She was sure he didn’t realize it, but he was ten times more intimidating than Paul had ever been.

  His broad shoulders. His forceful manner. His dark good looks. The thunderous expression on his face was enough to have her quaking in her boots.

  The problem was, he made her quake in a good way. Quake and quiver and sigh deep inside.

  He closed in on her, the crisp, clean scent of his aftershave tickling her senses and making her lean back an inch. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “The only time that should happen,” he ground out, “is when a man does this.”

  And then he was grasping her shoulders, jerking her to her feet and smashing his mouth down on hers.

  * * *

  What the hell was he doing? Hadn’t he learned his lesson where this woman was concerned?

  Apparently, she was the female equivalent of sugar, nicotine or black-tar heroin: highly addictive and nearly impossible to quit.

  He shouldn’t be here at all. Should have turned down her sisters’ pleas for help. Should have turned around and left as soon as he knew she was alive and well. And he sure as hell shouldn’t have come inside, confronted her or rounded the island counter so that she was within easy reach. Because when was the last time she’d been within reach and he hadn’t felt compelled to touch her?

  Even after everything that had passed between them—and recently, it had mostly been bad—he couldn’t resist her. She felt like heaven in his arms. Soft and plush against him, her gentle curves molding to his hard planes. Her w
arm lips giving beneath his own.

  For long, drawn-out minutes, he kissed her, tasting the mint of her gum or toothpaste or whatever else. It was so easy to block out the rest of the world when he was with her. Especially when he was with her this way.

  He didn’t think about the job he was supposed to be doing, or the duty he owed to her sisters, or the man she’d left at the altar. He didn’t even think about how she’d left him to run back to that other man or how pissed he’d been ever since.

  But he couldn’t kiss her forever. More’s the pity.

  Lightening the pressure of his mouth against hers, he pulled back, encouraged when he noticed that her eyes were glassy and she was out of breath. Nice to know he wasn’t the only one affected any time they were in the same room together.

  Relaxing his hold on her upper arms, he ran his fingers through the hair at her temple, tucking an errant strand behind her ear. Her tongue darted out to lick lips rosy and moist from his kiss, sending a jolt of electricity straight to his groin.

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said in a shaky whisper.

  He took a determined step back. “Why not? You’re not engaged anymore. At least I think that’s what it means when you run off five minutes before saying ‘I do.’”

  She flinched, and he almost regretted the sharpness of his comment. Almost. Then her shoulders went back, a look of determination falling across her face.

  “You need to leave, Reid,” she told him frankly. “I’m fine, you can see that. Go back to New York and tell my sisters as much. Let my entire family know I’m okay and just need a little time to myself. I’ll be home soon.”

  He cocked his head. “They’re going to want to know why you took off in the first place.”

  She shrugged in reply. “Tell them you don’t know. You were hired to find me, not explain the motives behind my actions, right?”