Читать онлайн книгу «Married To A Stranger» автора Allison Leigh
Married To A Stranger
Allison Leigh
Back in sleepy Weaver, Wyoming, for his father's wedding, rich and handsome Tristan Clay found himself unaccountably attracted to bespectacled Hope Leonia homespun, hometown schoolmarm! With every fiber of his astonished being, he craved her innocent kiss. Just a kissnothing more.Tristan knew better to flirt further with such a sweet, virginal temptation especially in this town. Yet in one short week his sensual attention compromised Hope's hard-won reputation, jeopardizing her job. And suddenlythough wedding bells gave him the williesthe only way to make things rightwas to make Hope his wife!
Oh, God. What have we done? Hope gasped.
Tristan would have been amused at the panic rounding her violet eyes if he hadnt been wondering the same thing himself.
He rarely acted impulsively. He trusted his instincts, which seldom failed him. But this time his instincts had fully deserted him.
All because of this virginal, violet-eyed temptress.
What have we done? he repeated.
The irony burned. A week ago hed started out thinking hed like to taste Hope Leonis soft-looking lips. That was all.
He hadnt gotten a kiss. He hadnt gotten anything that everybody in town seemed to think hed been getting.
No, he hadnt gotten a kiss.
Hed gotten a wife!
Dear Reader,
During the warm days of July, what better way to kick back and enjoy the best of summer reading than with six stellar stories from Special Edition as we continue to celebrate Silhouettes 20th Anniversary all year long!
With The Pint-Sized Secret, Sherryl Woods continues to delight her readers with another winning installment of her popular miniseries AND BABY MAKES THREE: THE DELACOURTS OF TEXAS. Reader favorite Lindsay McKenna starts her new miniseries, MORGANS MERCENARIES: MAVERICK HEARTS, with Man of Passion, her fiftieth book. A stolen identity leads to true love in Patricia Thayers compelling Whose Baby Is This? And a marriage of convenience proves to be anything but in rising star Allison Leighs Married to a Stranger in her MEN OF THE DOUBLE-C RANCH miniseries. Rounding off the month is celebrated author Pat Warrens Doctor and the Debutante, where the healthy dose of romance is just what the physician ordered, while for the heroine in Beth Hendersons Maternal Instincts, a baby-sitting assignment turns into a practice run for motherhoodand marriage.
Hope you enjoy this book and the other unforgettable stories Special Edition is happy to bring you this month!
All the best,
Karen Taylor Richman,
Senior Editor
Married to a Stranger
Allison Leigh
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my daughters.
Live your dreams.
Books by Allison Leigh
Silhouette Special Edition
* (#litres_trial_promo)Stay #1170
* (#litres_trial_promo)The Rancher and the Redhead #1212
* (#litres_trial_promo)A Wedding for Maggie #1241
* (#litres_trial_promo)A Child for Christmas #1290
Millionaires Instant Baby #1312
* (#litres_trial_promo)Married to a Stranger #1336
ALLISON LEIGH
started early by writing a Halloween play that her grade-school class performed for her school. Since then, though her tastes have changed, her love for reading has not. And her writing appetite simply grows more voracious by the day.
Born in Southern California, she has lived in eight different cities in four different states. She has been, at one time or another, a cosmetologist, a computer programmer and an administrative assistant.
Allison and her husband currently make their home in Arizona, where their time is thoroughly filled with two very active daughters, full-time jobs, pets, church, family and friends. In order to give herself the precious writing time she craves, she burns a lot of midnight oil.
A great believer in the power of loveher parents still hold handsshe cannot imagine anything more exciting to write about than the miracle of two hearts coming together.
Contents
Prologue (#u92bfe6d9-d493-54e3-826c-48b4ea5b3f64)
Chapter One (#u2b9b6b1e-bbea-59f9-97a4-ec19b4f957e3)
Chapter Two (#u20cd277e-8833-5d1b-9985-6ce924a0ef17)
Chapter Three (#ub03537c7-449b-5506-b0c5-ffbd1fc0bd10)
Chapter Four (#u038ad8bc-7fc6-5ebf-8d27-c4098cb342da)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
All hed wanted was a kiss. A simple kiss.
So how on Gods green earth had his life gotten so out of control in just one week over something so simple?
Tris rolled his head against the cushioned seat and looked across the aisle of the custom-fitted jet. Hope was still asleep. She certainly had no head for alcohol.
His jaw was so tight it ached. He had earned himself a doozy of a headache, too. But he knew it wasnt from champagne, or whiskey or anything even remotely alcoholic. Hed barely choked down the few toasts theyd had at the receptionhalf a glass of champagne wasnt anywhere near enough to set this pain in his head to throbbing.
No, his headache had begun a little over a week ago, he knew. Brought on strictly by himself.
He shoved his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. But the sight of the woman stretched out on the long seat across from him was firmly burned into his brain.
Hopes toffee-colored hair had fallen loose at some point on the drive to the airport. When hed carried her onto the private jet, the long, thick waves had clung to his shirt, flowed over his arm and streamed behind them in the night breeze. Now, they lay tangled and gleaming over her shoulders, off the couch, nearly touching the carpeted floor.
Hed slipped off her narrow-heeled shoes and set them on the floor beside her. Her dressso obviously an antique that he knew women whod have given their eyeteeth for the ankle-length garmenthad worked its way up her shapely calves. With one knee drawn upward, the fabric pulled in a taut stretch of beige-tinted lace over the back of her thighs and her derriere.
She was a total innocent, and lying there, so soundly asleep, she was temptation personified.
Temptation. Thats what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. Tris should have known better than to flirt with temptation. God knows she didnt have enough experience to fight the blistering sparks between them.
But he was experienced. And older. And he should have known better. His heart might not be programmed for love and happily-ever-after, but he was on a first-name basis with the desires of the flesh.
Tris could feel the plane banking. There was no point in looking out the little oval windows. It was pitch-dark out there. Dark above, dark below, dark all around.
Even this luxurious main cabin of the plane was dark, except for one small lamp burning near him. It cast enough glow to highlight the lace dress and glossy hair of the woman across from him.
He wasnt sure how long he sat there, legs sprawled out before him, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. It could have been one hour or three. But finally, Hope sighed deeply and shifted. Her hand tumbled off the cushion and grazed the carpet. The light glinted on the platinum ringsone plain and one studded with a trio of excruciatingly perfect diamondscircling her ring finger.
The rings he had put there.
She turned her head and pushed her thick hair out of her eyes. She blinked drowsily and he figured her vision was probably blurry, because her eyeglasses were sitting on the round side table beside his seat.
Comprehension slowly dawned in her eyes. He waited, knowing just when that memory clicked into place, because she breathed in sharply and yanked her feet off the cushion to sit up.
Where are we? Hope pressed a trembling hand to her head.
More than halfway to Paris.
Her shoulders seemed to sag. I drank too much, she murmured. Ive neverOh, God. What have we done?
Tris would have been amused at the panic rounding her violet eyes if he hadnt been wondering the same thing. He rarely acted impulsively. And even his actions over the last few days had been fairly deliberate. He trusted his instincts, listened to his gut because it rarely failed him.
But now, sitting here in this private jet equipped with every comfort known to man, from a whirlpool tub and a down-covered bed, to a fully equipped kitchen, to an array of computerized equipment that could run a small country if need be, his instincts had fully deserted him.
All because of this violet-eyed temptress.
What have we done? he repeated. Hed taken the easiest path of solving her problem. Weve stopped the gossip about us, effectively removing any reason for you to lose your teaching job.
Thats all theyd done.
The irony burned. Hed started out thinking hed like to taste her soft-looking lips. That was all.
He still hadnt kissed her. Not really. That quick, off-centered glancing of lips earlier that day didnt count.
He hadnt gotten a kiss. He hadnt gotten anything that everybody in town and beyond seemed to think hed been getting. It was almost laughable.
Tris picked up her eyeglasses and leaned forward, handing them to her. But in the end, nothing about this situation was laughable.
Particularly the fact that the young woman slipping the gold-rimmed glasses on her nose hadless than twelve hours ago, stood where hed long ago vowed never to standin front of a minister, promising to love, honor and cherish.
He hadnt gotten a kiss.
Hed gotten a wife.
Chapter One
Eight days earlier.
I think thats plenty, darlin. If you dont mind. Hope Leoni blinked, dragged her eyes from the deep blue gaze of the man sitting at the counter across from her. And realized she was pouring coffee all across the counter.
Well, not precisely across the counter. But it was overflowing the thick white coffee cup, the utilitarian saucer beneath it, quickly pooling around the base. Worse, it flowed into a rich brown river that ran straight to the edge of the counter and into the smoky gray sweater the man wore, creating a large spot where hed been leaning against the counter edge. Now he sat back with a muffled comment.
Her cheeks burned and she hastily set down the glass coffee carafe and grabbed a cloth from behind the counter, mopping up her mess. Im so sorry. She mopped, sopped, wiped and tried not to stare when, with a spare movement, he yanked the sweater over his head and tossed it onto the stool beside him. She dragged her attention from the plain white T-shirt that remained, hugging his broad shoulders, only to realize she was equally distracted by the thick gold hair that tumbled over his forehead. I dont know what I was thinking
He, the manthe blond god with a face that could make angels weepput one hand over hers, stopping her motions. No sweat, darlin.
She didnt know which made her blood flow faster until it zipped along her veins with a fevered frenzythe touch of his hand atop hers, or the casual endearment murmured in his low voice. The schoolgirl fantasies in which hed been the star seemed as recent as yesterday. I, uh, Im not usually so clumsy. I cant believe I
Hey. His long, long fingers encircled hers. Slid around her hand, beneath it; square, warm palm meeting hers. Warm. Dry. Hard.
Every sound fadedthe dog that had been barking half the morning from where it was tied up outside the sheriffs office a few doors down, the tractor mower that somebody was running over at the high school, the music from the radio on the shelf in the corner.
All of that faded. She could hear her pulse, thundering in her ears. Could hear her breath, slowly easing past her lips. She could hear the soft chink of his gold wristwatch as it bumped the counter beneath their hands.
Relax, he said in that voice that hypnotized. Nobodys going to fire you over a little spilled coffee. Certainly not Ruby, whos got a heart bigger than Wyoming.
At the mention of Ruby, owner of Rubys Caf and, more importantly, Hopes grandmother, some of Hopes scattered senses returned. She tugged her hand, relieved and disappointed all at once when their hands separated. She picked up the damp cloth, rubbing her palm against the wet, rough, terry cloth. Im well aware of Grams generosity.
Gram?
Hope pulled her gaze from his mouth. From the way it tilted at the corner when he spoke as if he were perpetually amused. AhRuby. You knowshes my grandmother. Im Hope. HopeLeoni.
He nodded, giving her the impression that he was absorbing every nonsensical syllable she uttered. Which was, of course, ridiculous.
Men who looked like this man didnt hang on every syllable of the very ordinary Hope Leoni. Only he was nodding, his eyes thoughtful. Thats right, he said. Ruby did have a little granddaughter she was raising.
I didnt think youd remember that. Again, she forced herself to look beyond the mesmerizing way his lips shaped his wordsto take in the thick, burnished blond hair, the sapphire-colored eyes that even dark circles beneath couldnt dim, the sharply angled jaw. The astounding width of his shoulders. You, um, dont visit Weaver very often. Hope felt her cheeks heat all over again.
When hed moved away from Wyoming, she truly had been Rubys little granddaughter. But that hadnt kept her or any other girl growing up in Weaver from developing a crush on the Wyoming boy whod made good.
Well, Im here now and its nice to meet you, officially, Hope Leoni. Tristan Clay. He shifted and stuck out his hand, obviously waiting.
Hope swallowed, placing her hand in his. She was almost prepared for the jolt, but still her breath audibly caught and her cheeks burned. You, too, Mrah, Clay.
His smile widened gently but there was something daunting about his impossibly steady gaze, so intensely blue among thick lashes that were surprisingly dark for someone so blond and golden. Tristanll do.
She swallowed, far too aware that he still held her hand engulfed in his much larger one. I suppose youre here for your fathers wedding. The whole town is buzzing with excitement.
Finally, finally, his lashes lowered. His thumb brushed across the back of her hand. This town buzzes with excitement when the lone traffic signal turns red. Do you work here all the time, Hope?
She knew she should pull away her hand. But his thumb made that gentle little swirl again and she couldnt bring herself to move. Yes, she breathed. No. I mean, I work here during the summer. When school starts, Ill
His expression didnt change. School?
I teach at the elementary school. Kindergarten through third.
Lucky kids. Married? Engaged? Going steady?
She swallowed, nearly choking. No.
Again that smooth, gentle swirl against her hand, the faint tilt at the corner of his mouth. Why not?
Her fingers curved. She tugged again and had the impression that he wanted to smile when she pushed her hands into the front pockets of her pink waitress uniform. No particular reason, she answered, hoping that her trembling nerves didnt show in her voice as badly as she suspected. Except shed have to be asked on a date again before she could worry about marriage proposals. You? His smile widened a bit, and he shook his head. Her cheeks flamed hotly. Of course, in a town as small as Weaver, news would have spread like wildfire if he had settled down with one woman.
He was Tristan Clay, the youngest of the Clay brothers of the enormous Double-C cattle ranch located some twenty miles away from town. He was rich, golden-beautiful and successful even without his familys holdings, which were reportedly the largest in the state. Hed developed some type of software when hed been younger than she was now that had revolutionized the industry. Had dated famous women, danced in Europe with princesses and slept in the White House.
When Hope had been in school, every girl in town had dreamed of capturing the interest of Tristan Clay on his rare visits to his familys ranch. It didnt matter that he was grown and gone and the schoolgirls were just thatgirls. The articles about him in the newspapers or magazines years ago had been clipped, savored in scrapbooks or tacked up on bedroom walls.
Hope had so envied her friend, Jolie, who had been allowed to pin up her favorite articles about her latest heartthrob. Gram had refused to let Hope attach anything to her bedroom walls other than a landscape or a print of the Last Supper. As if by doing so shed be able to prevent Hope from turning into the wild child her sister Justine had been.
But Gram hadnt known about the clipping Hope had had inside her geometry book. The one of Tristan, when hed made the papers about some high-tech espionage hed foiled. His appearances in the news had dwindled to nothing over the last six or seven yearsa fact that had roused its own share of curiositybut Hope knew, to her everlasting embarrassment, that her private hoard of clippings were still packed away somewhere in her closet.
And now, here he sat, across the counter from where she stood, with his intense blue gaze steady on her face as if there was no place else in the world he wanted to be.
Ridiculous, of course. Tristan Clay was just killing time until he headed out to his familys place.
Yet, he was here in her grandmothers caf, wearing blue jeans that were washed soft and nearly white. The dark gray crew-neck sweater hed worn had looked like cashmere. But hed dumped it on the stool with no regard for the coffee soaking it. And if she wasnt mistaken, thered even been a small hole in one of the cuffs that had been pushed halfway up his golden-brown, sinewy forearms.
For a self-professed computer geek, his body looked both lean and hard. Her cheeks heated once again at her wayward thoughts. Since when did she speculate on the hardness of a mans body? Not since you were a silly teenager, mooning over an article clipping about a man completely out of your league.
Now her ears were burning, too. She swiped a loose strand of hair away from her cheek, nudged up the nose piece of her glasses and made a production of looking at the round clock high on the wall at the end of the counter.
It was three-thirty and the caf was supposed to close at two every day until it reopened at six. But Hope had left the front and back doors propped open to take advantage of the lovely June afternoon while she prepared for the supper crowd.
It wasnt the first summer shed spent working in her grandmothers caf. It wasnt likely to be the last. But come the fall, Hope would begin her second year of teaching at Weaver Elementary and her mind had been filled with plans of that. And the relief of it, because shed known the vote of the three-person school board to keep the school open at all had been terribly close.
Shed come out of the kitchen, her head filled with school projects and ideas, only to find Tristan sitting at one of the counter stools. His arms had been folded across the shining surface, his wide shoulders hunched tiredly. Shed begun telling him they were closed, but hed looked up and Hope had been lost in the intensity of his eyes.
Tristan had been gone from the area for so long that he probably didnt remember that Rubys Caf closed after lunch. Yet telling him that was quite possibly the last thing on this earth that shed wanted to do.
She now cast around for something intelligent to say. But could only think of the same topic shed brought up earlier. So, youre here for your fathers wedding next Saturday?
He nodded and shifted on the stool, finally blinking his eyes and glancing away. But only for a moment. One moment when she could breathe normally, and then he looked at her again, and she simply forgot how. She nudged at her slipping glasses, then pushed her hands into her pockets once more. Ive met Gloria Day. She felt the tips of her ears go hot at the way the words seemed to blurt out of her. Shes very nice. I, uh, hope your father and she are very happy.
He nodded, not replying. His long fingers wrapped around the cup and he tilted it, as if to drink. Hope automatically reached for the coffee pot and refilled his cup. Did you want to see a menu? She ignored the fact that she was due at her friends house in less than ten minutes. Shed promised to watch Evan, Jolies son, while Jolie and Drew Taggart drove to Gillette.
I remember when Ruby used to just write the specials on that chalkboard over there. Tristan glanced at the square board that was propped on a high corner shelf.
She still puts the specials on the board. Hope pulled a menu from beneath the counter and slid it across to him. But we offer more these days. I could fix you a sandwich or something.
Coffee, tea or me? Tris wanted to retract the suggestive words as soon as he said them. But they were already out there and hectic color was staining the waitress-teachers cheeks. Personally, he found the blush charming. How many women did he know anymore who blushed?
But hed obviously embarrassed her.
No. I guess not. He was oddly disappointed. She wasnt at all his type of woman. Hell, she looked barely old enough to vote, much less be a teacher. Besides, the only energy he had right now was expended simply by lifting the coffee cup to drain it of its life-giving liquid. He set the empty cup down, closed the menu and pushed to his feet, dropping a few bills on the counter as he did so.
He wondered when hed become so jaded that he couldnt recognize a naive girl when he met one. Not that he expected to see her again. He had a week to catch up on his brothers lives, then there was the wedding to get through. After that, he was due to meet Dom to finish up the case that had kept them all occupied far longer than anyone had expected, thanks to the mess made by a love-sick fool on their very own team. He didnt have time to dwell on Hopes innocent appeal. Thanks for the java. He headed to the open door. It was just what I needed.
Youre quite welcome.
He looked back at her painfully polite words. Her ivory cheeks were nearly as pink as the uniform-dress thing she wore. Behind her gold-rimmed glasses, her eyes were wide and so violet they looked like crushed flowers from the lilac bushes that bloomed around the big house at the ranch. If it werent for the glasses, hed have figured that she was wearing some colored contact lenses to achieve that vivid color. But they were obviously the genuine article.
He cupped his hand tightly around the metal edge of the glass door as his attention drifted from her eyes to the rosy fullness of her lips. To the gentle, rounded curve of her jaw and the smooth line of her throat where the delicate links of a fine gold chain disappeared beneath the ill-fitting uniform. Behind him, a dog barked and he reeled in thoughts that could get him arrested in some states. Apparently, he wasnt as beat from the last week as hed thought. Give my regards to your grandmother.
I will. Her tongue peeped out, leaving a distracting glisten on her lower lip. It was nice meeting you.
You too. Hope.
The color in her cheeks flared again, but she smiled. And he found himself smiling back.
Then he heard his name being called, and turned to see his oldest brother, Sawyer, standing on the street a few yards down. He absently waved at his brother, still looking back inside the caf. Feeling disappointed that Hope had turned away, busy with something at the counter.
Thought you were coming in next week.
Realizing that he was wondering how far her toffee-brown hair would reach down her back if it werent twisted into that thick, roping braid, Tris deliberately stepped away from the doorway toward Sawyer. Okay, so he took one more look into the caf before he did. What was the harm in looking? He was a man. She was a woman.
And his brother was the law now. Tris felt a smile growing on his face as his brother walked closer. The only indication of Sawyers new status as the sheriff was the star fastened unobtrusively to his leather belt. Except for the billed cap with a naval insignia that he wore, Sawyer looked much the same as the other men in the small rural town he now served. Well-worn blue jeans and a work shirt. I was, Tris finally answered with a grin. Youre missing the Stetson and spurs.
Sawyer shrugged, tucking the bow of his dark sunglasses in the collar of his shirt. Left the spurs at home. Rebecca likes em, you know, he said blandly.
Tris chuckled. You wish. How is my newest doctor-in-law?
My wife is beautiful and totally in love with me. You can save your charms for someone else. Sawyer leaned his back against the hood of a pickup parked at the curb. Youre early.
So you already mentioned. Tris looked back toward the caf when he heard the soft jingle of a bell. All he saw, though, was the door closing. The blinds had been drawn across all the windows. Cafe still closed during the afternoons?
Regular as rain.
She didnt tell me, he murmured.
Ruby?
Hope. He felt his brothers look. What?
Sawyer just shook his head. What do you do? Some kind of chant that brings women running?
All I had was a cup of coffee. Ordinarily, Tris would have shrugged off his brothers taunt without feeling a shred of defensiveness.
Yeah, well, I know you. Hope teaches at the elementary school. Everyone in this town looks on her as their daughter, or their sister. So keep your mitts off.
The fact that his brother seemed to think he needed the warning burned. Thanks for the enthusiastic welcome home, bro.
Sawyers expression didnt change. Because he was the oldest of his brothers? Because he was the sheriff? Because he was one of Squire Clays sons and had picked up an endless amount of Clay nosiness along the way?
Hope Leoni is, sweet, unbearably sexy and way too innocent, of no interest to me, Tris said dismissively. Maybe if he said it with enough conviction, hed make it true.
Hopes fingers crushed the paper bag holding the rolls she was taking out to the Taggarts, when she heard Tristans voice, easily carried around the side of the caf on the warm summer breeze.
She yanked open the door of her little green car and tossed the sack onto the passenger seat. Of course youre of no interest to him, she muttered under her breath. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and pushed the key into the ignition, starting the engine with a roar. She threw it into gear and zipped around the side of the caf, jouncing out onto Main.
In her rearview mirror she could see Tristan and the sheriff standing on the sidewalk talking. Men like Tristan Clay dont have interest in women like you. Men in general dont have interest in you. Most of the town still considered her Rubys little granddaughter.
She was a fully qualified teacher. Shed moved into her own house and, despite the barely hidden reluctance of the school board, obtained the teaching position at Weaver Elementary. She didnt know what was worsestill being thought of as a teenager, or knowing that every move she made was measured and compared against the actions of her mother whod had the temerity to be an unwed mother, twice, or her sister, whod had to leave high school because of her wild ways.
Maybe she should accept the next time Larry Pope asked her out. He wasnt a bad guy, after all. In fact, as the math teacher at the high school, he was respected and well liked. Maybe if she dated him a time or two, the town would see that she wasnt her mother or her sister.
But surely that wasnt a good enough reason to go out with a man? To prove she could date without bringing shame to her grandmother the way people seemed to believe her mother and sister had? Larry was nice, yes. He just didnt make her forget her own name when she looked into hishiswhat color were Larrys eyes? Whatever color they were, they werent the deep blue that Tristan Clays were.
She made an impatient sound. Yes. The next time Larry Pope asked her out, shed accept. It wasnt as if there was a line of men beating down her door. It wasnt as if she was of interest to any male other than Larry Pope.
She hit the brakes abruptly, nearly passing the turn-off to the Taggarts place.
Several minutes later, she pulled up in front of the partially completed log home that her friends were building. As soon as she stopped the car, the door flew open and Evan tumbled out, racing toward her. Auntie Hope, he squealed, launching his five-year-old self with considerable enthusiasm at her legs. Hope laughed, swinging the boy in a circle, before settling him back on his feet.
He beamed, gap-toothed, back at her. There was another male who was interested in her after all, Hope thought wryly. Only he was seventeen years her junior and had a seven oclock bedtime. Come on, you, she said cheerfully. Lets hustle your folks along so we can finish writing your surprise story for your moms birthday.
And maybe, while they were at it, she could rid herself of foolish thoughts about Tristan Clay.
Chapter Two
Here. Hang these bows from the banister there.
Tris heaved a sigh and lowered his arm that hed laid across his eyes in a vain attempt to block out the light. I didnt think it possible, but marriage has actually made you more bossy, he complained, looking up at his sister-in-law, Emily Clay. Shed been raised with Tris and his brothers after her parents had been killed when she was little. But shed legally become a Clay when shed married his brother, Jefferson. And now they even had two kids.
And time has only made you more lazy. Move it. Emily nudged him with her foot. What are you doing lying here in the living room on the floor, anyway?
Trying to sleep, he muttered. So stop sticking your foot in my ribs.
She crouched down beside him, propping her arms on her knees. Her long brown hair slid over her shoulder, rich and dark as coffee. A thought which immediately brought to mind Hope Leoni of the pink cheeks and sweet smile. He squelched a groan and concentrated on Emily, who was speaking to him, her eyebrows raised with curiosity. Youre trying to sleep on the floor here in the living room because?
The couch is hard as a rock. He yawned and dropped his arm over his face again. And because Glorias daughters are using the guest suite downstairs.
What about your old bedroom upstairs?
Full up with packing boxes from Glorias house. Im told they were going to be gone by the time I was expected to arrive next week, but I have my doubts.
The couch in Matthews office?
Too short. And the rec room downstairs has paper doves and bells on every surface. He flexed his fingers. Doves, for Gods sake.
Its for a wedding shower, ding dong. You could have stayed with Jefferson and me, you know. Weve got room, even for a big dope like you.
Tris knew that. He also knew that he could have bunked with Daniel or Sawyer, too. But staying at the main house of the ranch, the big house, as they all called it, had seemed the easiest choice. Whether or not his father ever said so, Tris knew that staying at the big house was what Squire expected. Available bed or not.
He sat up, rubbing a hand across his jaw. He needed a shave. Hed stayed at Sawyer and Rebeccas place in town until nearly midnight. What time is it? Wheres Squire?
Nearly two in the afternoon and he better be in town visiting the barber. Jaimie says you came in late last night, crashed out here and havent risen since. Hung over?
Listen runt, I havent had a hangover in a month of Sundays. Hell, he rarely drank more than an occasional beer anymore. His days of excess had long passed.
Then what? You sick?
No, he said tolerantly. Em had been his best friend since they were bitty, so he made allowances for her that he ordinarily wouldnt have. Sleepy. Its not a crime, last I checked.
Her pansy-brown eyes narrowed. I also heard youve been circling Hope Leoni. Shes a little
His allowances only went so far. I dont go around jumping the town virgins, he said abruptly. You know, if my love life was as active as everyone seems to think, Id never get any work done.
And that work is? Her expression softened and she smiled peaceably. Never mind. I learned just how close-mouthed you Hollins-Winword dudes are from my darling husband. Now, about these bows.
Tris shook his head. No wonder Jefferson finally succumbed to you. Youre worse than water torture.
Her eyes danced. Thats right. And only because I love you will I warn you that the dove-decorated shower is set to begin in less than an hour. Therell be about twenty-five women trooping through this house, and I really dont want to explain your presence on the floor. Might ruin your classy image.
Tris made a face, but rolled to his feet. He rubbed Emilys head, deliberately messing up her hair the way hed done when they were kids, and headed upstairs, grabbing his duffel from where it still sat inside the dining room doorway.
Hed take a shower, then dive into a gallon of coffee. Then hed consider hanging damned bows from the banister for his sister-in-law. Maybe.
Only, when he came out of the shower, considerably more alert and marginally more presentable in clean jeans and shirt, he could hear a horde of women chattering and laughing as they arrived. If he wanted coffee, he had to go down there among all of them to get it.
Not that he was ever averse to being among women. As far as Tris was concerned, it was one of the more pleasurable places to be. But this was a wedding shower.
Frankly, the whole notion made his skin itch.
He waited an interminable twenty caffeine-deprived minutes before he went downstairs to the now-empty kitchen, and the coffee pot that he prayed would be hot and full, as usual.
It was, and he stood there at the counter, singeing his tongue as he downed two fast cups, frowning at the playpen that sat on the floor on the other side of the table next to the wall. For now, it was empty of babies even though the family was full of them these days. Emily, Jaimie and Maggie had all had a baby within the last six months.
He shuddered, poured a third cup of coffee and carried it with him through the mudroom and outside.
The sun was bright. Warm. The air filled with the rich scent of mown grass. Across the gravel road separating the big house from the outbuildings and corrals, horses grazed and Matthews retriever chased a butterfly.
He squinted and poured more coffee down his throat. He was glad his brothers were busy with the hundred chores required every day to keep the place running. It meant that they were thoroughly busy, and Tris could find another place to grab a few more zs, undisturbed.
He slowly wandered around the side of the house, past lilac bushes heavy with blossoms and immediately thought of Hopes striking eyes. He stifled an oath. Hed learned a lot about Miss Hope Leoni while hed been hanging out at Sawyers place the evening before. She was a paragon of virtue; an apparent candidate for sainthood.
Which meant the vivid dream hed had about her that had awakened him around two in the morning was even more ill-advised.
He went up the front steps of the wide porch. Sighing with anticipation, he lowered himself onto the swing, propped his feet on the railing across from him, and dropped his head onto the wooden swing back.
Oh yeah. This was it. He yawned, scratched his jaw, and closed his eyes. This was the kind of break he needed. No noise, no tourists, no unexpected disasters at work. No wedding nonsense.
No damned dreams about innocent school teachers with violet eyes.
Shhh.
Is he sleeping or is he dead?
His feet are big. Theyre even bigger than Daddys, and I can put both my feet in his boot!
Girls, quiet down. Youll wake him.
Do we have to share our juice with him? I dont think we have enough for him. My mommy says Unca Twistin has a normous appaappa
Appetite.
Yeah. That.
Im sure he doesnt want any juice. Come on now, were going to have our picnic over there by those three trees. Remember?
But what if he does want some?
If he does, well share with him. It would be impolite not to.
But
Sshh. Over to the trees before we wake him.
Tris gritted his teeth, staring at the group of little girls, and one big girl through slitted eyes. Too late.
The little girls, his nieces, jumped and scattered as if hed grown three heads. The big girl, however, nudged up her gold-rimmed glasses and blinked with dismay. Im sorry. I didnt expect you to be out here sleeping, or Id have talked the girls into having our picnic elsewhere.
His coffee was cold. He finished it off, anyway, then pulled his feet off the rail and sat forward. I didnt expect to see you here, either.
Hope moistened her lips. Well. Sorry to have wakened you. She hefted her caramel-colored wicker basket more firmly between her arms.
He was wakened all right. What are you doing here?
Having a picnic with the girls.
No, I mean why are you with the kids and not at Glorias shower?
Im watching the children. Well, these guys, anyway. The babies are with their moms.
Why are you doing this?
Because I was asked to. She shook her head as if the answer was obvious.
How old are you, Hope?
She looked over her shoulder at the children who were crossing the gravel drive toward the grass on the other side. Nearly twenty-three. Sarah, honey, wait until you get to the grass before you take off your shoes, she called.
Nearly twenty-three. Hell. How many women did he know who claimed to be nearly any age but one at least a decade younger than was true? And now he had the hots for the babysitter. Had he ever had a babysitter? He tried to remember. Couldnt. Not enough coffee in him yet.
Ill watch the girls, he said abruptly. They were sweet little things, and he liked playing the uncle. It was as close a relationship to kids as he intended to get. You go join the women, he finished telling Hope.
Im hardly dressed for a wedding shower.
Which only brought his attention to the golden length of calf she displayed below the fringe of her knee-length, cut-off blue jeans. Hed have remembered if hed ever had a babysitter with legs like that.
Go on back and go to sleep, she was saying, and he dragged his attention upward, over denim worn thin anddid she have to wear such a baggy T-shirt? The obnoxious lime-green cotton hung around her hips, frustratingly loose and boxy. The babysitter, for cryin out loud!
But, um, thank you for the offer anyway. She smiled shyly and turned to follow the children.
He gave himself a mental shake. Sleep. Thats what he needed. Then he wouldnt feel sohell, what did he feel? Off balance?
He yawned again, watching the graceful sway of her long braid as she walked away, joining the children.
J.D. and Angeline belonged to Daniel and Maggie. Leandra was Jefferson and Emilys. And Sarah, the youngest, was Matthew and Jaimies. They all circled around Hope as she joined them and set them to work, spreading a bright yellow sheet.
He smiled faintly, though, when the girls didnt dig into the feastthey were too far away for him to see exactly what it was. But he recognized what the little girls preferred over the food when dozens and dozens of small, opalescent bubbles started floating over their heads, bobbing, swaying, popping.
Even Hope was blowing bubbles. He rested his arms on the rail and watched her purse her lips, blow and set a wiggling, wobbling train of soap bubbles into the afternoon breeze. She certainly wasnt shy when she dealt with the children.
He narrowed his eyes and pictured her face should he follow them. Shed probably stare at his feet or his left ear, and shed turn white, then red. And all the while hed be thinking hed like to see her when she wasnt wearing that baggy T-shirt that hid her curves from prying eyes like his.
God. He sat back in his chair and pressed the heels of his palms against his eye sockets. He was every bit the lech that his family seemed to think he was.
But even that knowledge didnt take him back inside the house. No, he propped his feet back on the rail and continued watching Hope. If the way she kept sneaking looks back toward the house now and again was any indication, she was doing some of her own watching, too.
I thought I saw you driving a green car yesterday.
Hope whirled around at the voice behind her. She was waiting in the kitchen of the ranch house for her ride back to Weaver. By the time shed shepherded the girls back to the big house, the shower guests had departed. Thats what she got for letting the little ones talk her into walking all over creationand the Double-C had plenty of interesting places to explore.
Now, Tristan was looking at her with his incredible eyes, waiting for an answer and she wished, cowardly, that the children were still with her instead of their parents.
Yes, I have a car, she admitted. But I rode out here with Dr. Rebecca.
And where is Dr. Rebecca now?
Hope curled her fingers over the back of one of the chairs at the enormous oval table that sat in the center of the big kitchen. She was called away on a house call.
So you need a ride home, then.
Jaimie is going to drive me.
Jaimie drives like a bat out of hell. Ill take you.
Hopes stomach jolted. He was far more harmless when he was sleeping. When he was wide awake and watching her from beneath heavy lids, he was totally devastating. Totally daunting. Why would he offer to drive her? It wasnt as if she was of interest to him. Jaimie has already offered.
You really prefer to ride with the speed demon?
Hope swallowed. I
Stop tormenting our guest, Jaimie chided sailing into the kitchen and poking her brother-in-law in the back. And I havent gotten a speeding ticket in months.
Thats cause your daughter calls the sheriff uncle, Tris countered dryly. I want to go by and see Drew Taggart anyway. Theres no point in all of us driving into town.
Hope folded her hands together and wished shed driven herself. But Jaimie looked her way, eyebrows lifting. And Hope forced herself to shrug as if it didnt matter in the least how she got back home.
So she found herself sitting beside him in the close confines of his rental car as he drove along the gravel drive toward the main gate of his familys ranch. With each vibrating turn of the tires, Hope felt herself growing more uncomfortable. She was wrinkled and sweaty and her unmanageable hair was working loose from its ordinarily tidy braid. He, on the other hand, made his faded jeans seem like a sinful sight; and she swore she could still smell the freshness of his shower on that golden skin.
She stared out the window and banished thoughts of Tristan and showers.
He hadnt turned on the radio. It was just the two of them and the sound of the tires. And Hope felt more tongue-tied than shed ever felt in her life.
Considering shed spent most of her life tongue-tied, that was quite a feat.
Would you like to grab some dinner?
She turned and looked at him, her lips parting soundlessly.
Is that a yes or a no?
He wasnt asking her for dinner. He couldnt be. Why would he? He was only driving her home because hed been going by to see Drew anyway. I dontah, no. Thank you.
Why?
She stared fixedly out at the passing landscape. Excuse me?
Why wont you have dinner with me? We could grab a steak at Colbys.
Why? She glanced at him long enough to see the corner of his lips deepen.
That was my question.
She folded her arms. She didnt like being teased. I have plans.
Big date?
Her cheeks burned. Is that so hard to believe?
He smiled faintly. Not at all.
It ought to be, she thought silently. The last time Hope had been on a date, shed still been in college. And she may have entertained thoughts of agreeing if Larry Pope asked her out again, but that occasion hadnt actually occurred. I have to wash my hair.
He raised his eyebrows. In other words, youre not interested.
No, she blurted. I mean, II do have to wash my hair. Church is tomorrow.
His smile widened wryly. Naturally. Its been a while since Ive been thrown over for shampoo and conditioner.
Hope closed her eyes and wished for the drive to be over.
When they finally entered the official outskirts of town, Hope started to tell him where she lived, but without any prompting at all, he drove straight to the cozy little house she rented across the street from the park and the high school.
Sawyer told me, he said, as he parked in her narrow driveway.
Hope shoved open the car door, just glad to be home and certainly not willing to wonder why Tristan and his brother had even discussed the whereabouts of her home, but Tristan caught her arm before she could escape. Her throat tightened and she looked over her shoulder at him. I appreciate the ride.
Because he couldnt help himself, Tris looked into her eyes.
They were the purest violet hed ever seen, so dark he could barely distinguish the pupil from the iris. And the whites were whiter than any white that had ever existed. Annoyance and amazement churned inside him. A few days dalliance with this girl-woman was out of the question. He knew it. So why did he ask her for dinner? And why did it bug him to his core that shed refused? Eyes as clear as yours just dont exist, he murmured.
Her eyebrows popped up. Excuse me?
Ill bet youve never had a hangover. Never crossed the street against the light. Never stayed up later than you should.
Color suffused her cheeks. I have been to college.
Sweet pea, compared to the places Ive been, that doesnt mean diddly. His voice lowered. Never had an impure thought.
Her eyes flickered and she hurriedly climbed from the car. Her thick braid bounced in counterpoint to her hasty steps as she walked away from him.
Let her go.
He swallowed an oath along with the common sense that told him to leave well enough alone. He caught up to her as she pushed open the front door of her little white house. The place was as neat and tidy as she was, with precise rows of summer flowers in the beds lining the sidewalk. He closed his hand around her elbow, pulling her up short before she could shut the door in his face.
Wait.
Her chin tilted, but her eyes wouldnt meet his.
Why? So you can make fun of me some more?
I wasnt.
She didnt answer. The way her soft lips twisted was answer enough.
He frowned. The bones in her elbow felt fragile. He slid his hand up her arm, curving around the taut flesh, feeling the flex of healthy muscle. Of skin that was smooth as satin against his fingertips. I have to go back to Paris after the wedding.
She blinked. Hesitated. Congratulations.
Its business, he dismissed. I travel a lot. Too much, he thought vaguely. Im not going to be here for long. Why wont you have dinner with me? Im harmless.
Hopes lips parted and she looked down at his fingers circling her arm. Harmless? Hardly. This man was built for harm. Harm of the heart. I dont
Want steak. Thats okay. Pizza, then.
Why are you doing this?
Mans gotta eat. He didnt smile. Womans gotta eat, too. Whats your favorite food?
She frowned. Chinese. I dont
Wed have to drive a ways to get that.
His thumb swirled against her arm. She looked up at him. Tristan
Maybe I like the way you say my name.
Her throat knotted. Shivers crept down her spine and broke out on her arm where he would surely feel them. He probably thought she was insane standing there shivering in the warm early evening. Im a mess from this afternoon, she whispered thoughtlessly.
Tris looked at her lips. They were perfectly sculpted, impossibly soft-looking. Everything about her was soft. Her voice, her eyes, her skin. Take a shower, he murmured. Ill wash your back. He wasnt entirely joking, he realized. But he grinned, trying to look harmless despite his thoughts which were miles away from harmless.
Colbys, she said abruptly, tugging her arm out of his grasp. Itll be a zoo at the pizza place. Ill meet you there in a half hour. Then she hastily stepped into the house and shut the door right in his face.
Tris stared at the closed door. Ill be damned, he murmured. Then he laughed softly, feeling better than he had in weeks, and turned around on her postage-stamp-sized porch. Across the street, the park stretched out, vibrantly green. The high school looked the same as always. And down the street and around the corner was the old elementary school. Where, among her students, shy Hope would laugh and smile and teach.
Too bad hed be long gone from Weaver by then. Hed have enjoyed seeing Hope in her element.
Hed just have to figure a way in the next few days to get her to look him in the eye with those incredible eyes of hers. To scale that mile-high shyness of hers so that when he kissed herhe wasnt sure when hed decided it was something he was going to doshe wouldnt run away.
Shed kiss him back.
The kiss was definitely something he looked forward to. Probably more than was good for either of them. But it would be just a kiss. What would be the harm in that?
Chapter Three
Would you like wine?
Beneath the cover of the varnished wood table top, Hopes fingers twisted together. No, thank you. She didnt drink. Hadnt ever had a hangover, just as hed said earlier.
She watched Tristan, who sat across from her in the dimly lit booth. He showed no surprise that shed declined the drink. Of course he wasnt surprised.
The only surprise was that she was sitting here in Colbys, which served food but which everyone still considered a bar, with Tristan Clay. Hope had been to Colbys dozens of times in her lifetime. Never once had the booths seemed so cramped. So shadowy. So intimate.
Tristan was reading the menu he held open between his hands. His fingers idly tapped the corner of the padded vinyl folder and Hope closed her eyes for a moment before focusing on her own menu. She shifted and her knee bumped something solid and immovable beneath the table. It wasnt the table. It was him. She quickly angled her knees away from his and stared blindly at the menu. What was she doing here?
Decided yet?
She looked up as Tristan closed his menu and sat back in the booth. Excuse me?
His eyebrow peaked. Do you know what you want to order?
She nodded and shut her menu with a snap. She didnt. But she wasnt going to sit there like an idiot staring at words that her distracted mind wouldnt read. She chewed at the inside of her lip. Rearranged her flatware and drained her water glass.
He closed the menu and set it to the side of the table, folding his arms over the surface of the table. He seemed suddenly to loom over her from his side, but the portion of her brain that still functioned knew it only seemed that way because he was so tall and his shoulders so wide that he easily filled more than half of the bench on his side of the booth.
A fact that did nothing to prevent her from pressing her spine more firmly against the seat behind her. Or from reaching for the chain at her throat and running an inch of it back and forth between her thumb and forefinger.
His gaze was unwavering, but she was certain that he wanted to smile. She felt her entire body go hot with embarrassment. She dropped her hand to her lap.
She wished that Newt Rasmusson, the owner of the place, would hurry up and take their ordersdespite the fact that she didnt know what she wantedso at least that interruption would draw Tristans focus away from her.
Want to dance?
The jangle that shot through her was not a leaping, internal YES! It simply wasnt. No one is dancing, she pointed out faintly. Her fingers sought the chain necklace once again.
So?
Theres no music.
He glanced down at the table. If you dont want to, Hope, just say so.
I didnt mean
His lashes lifted and she saw, then, the amusement there. Her lips tightened and she angled her chin up a notch. She gathered up her purse and started to slide from the bench. No matter how breathless she became just from looking at him, she wasnt going to sit there and be his evenings entertainment. Hed already found more than enough about her to tease. This was a bad idea, she said aloud. Her voice shook, but at least shed spoken up. Thank you for the ride back to town earlier.
Without looking his way, she hurried toward the entrance, bumping her hip against an empty table as she went. She tugged the strap of her shoulder bag higher on her shoulder and blinked rapidly. She pushed through the door, nearly crying with relief when she made it out onto the street without embarrassing herself even more than she already had.
Though how that would be possible, she couldnt be sure. Idiot, she muttered under her breath. She drew in a long breath and started down the street in the direction of her house. It wouldnt take but a few minutes to walk. No longer than it would have taken her to walk to Colbys in the first place if Tristan hadnt been sitting on her little porch when she came out, ready to drive them despite her assertion that shed meet him there.
I guess you werent hungry, after all.
She whirled, her braid flying. Her lips parted, but no words came. And that frustrated her even more. She shook her head and turned again, but Tristan caught her arm. His fingers circled her elbow; not tightly, but with enough insistence that she stopped again. Or maybe it was the tingling heat spreading out from her elbow along the rest of her arm. Her voice broke free. Tristan, dont.
He stepped in front of her, oblivious to the two cars that slowly drove down the main street. His shoulders blocked the red glow of the setting sun. Am I so objectionable that you couldnt stand one more minute of my company?
Her fingers curled around her purse strap. I dont like being laughed at.
Nobody does, sweet pea. He let go of her elbow and brushed his thumb over her white knuckles. The only one I was laughing at was myself, he said quietly. Please. Come back in and have dinner with me. I wont ask you to dance if you dont want me to, but I cant promise not to try talking you into a game of pool.
She didnt want to be charmed by him, knowing how easily he could accomplish it. Was accomplishing it. What about Drew Taggart? she asked, faintly desperate.
What about him?
You wanted to look him up.
Ill catch up to him later. Theres plenty of time.
But you told Jaimie
Youd have been racing down the road with her at the wheel if Id just told you, flat out, what my reasons were for offering you that ride.
He didnt wear boots like most of the men in Weaver did. Not cowboy boots nor heavy work boots. He wore scuffed athletic shoes. She stared at them so fiercely that she spotted the tiny place at the toe of one shoe where the leather had begun to wear through. And what were they? These reasons that would terrify me so?
Ill tell you, but you have to look at me first.
Her cheeks heated. She darted a look into his face.
He tsked, and she jumped when he tucked his knuckles under her chin and lifted it. Nervousness knotted in her chest. Im looking at you.
At my chin, he murmured. He touched the nose piece of her glasses, inching them back up her nose, and surprise lifted her gaze to his for the briefest of moments.
But it was long enough for her to be caught, unable to pull her gaze from his. They were so blue, his eyes. As if a midnight sky had been trapped in his irises. She suddenly felt warm, her senses trapped in some odd time warp where everything moved slowly. She didnt even blink when he took a step closer, wrapping his other hand around her free elbow. Her hands brushed his hips and she pulled them back, clasping them together against her chest.
Thats why, he murmured.
His thumb was doing that maddening swirl-thing on her elbow. I d-dont know.
Yes, you do, Hope.
No
Dont be afraid of me.
Imnot. She swallowed. Im not.
Youre trembling.
I
So am I.
Stop this. Youre making fun. You told your brother you werent interested in me. I overheard you.
Im interested all right, he murmured.
She shook her head abruptly. Her protest was as ineffectual as her mushy resistance when he drew his fingertips along her forearms, capturing her hands. He pressed her palms to his chest. And, oh God, she felt his heart. Thundering through the fine cotton of his Hawaiian print shirt as fiercely as her own heart pounded.
Youre doing that to me, sweet pea. His soft words stirred the loose tendrils of hair at her temples. You have been since the coffee in the caf. Maybe I didnt see that it was any of my brothers business, but that doesnt mean its not so.
No.
Yes. Thats why I was laughing at myself. I come home expecting nothing but enduring my old mans long-awaited wedding, and find myself meeting a teacher whose violet eyes could make me forget my own name.
She felt his breath on her forehead, then closed her eyes and held back a gasp when his warm lips touched her temple. Her fingers curled against his chest, grabbing loose fabric. Were standing on Main Street.
His jaw grazed hers, then he lifted his head, untangling her fingers from his shirt front. If it bothers you, come back inside with me and have dinner.
You said you were harmless. I knew you were lying. She frowned as another car pulled along the street and turned into the parking lot behind her. What do you want with me?
He laughed abruptly. Are you kidding?
You used to date Serena Stevenson. She pushed out the words.
His eyes narrowed. So? It was a long time ago.
Shes a famous model!
Who is now happily married with two kids, neither of whom are mine, thank the good Lord. Whats your point?
My face has never stopped traffic.
Thats because youve probably always been in Weaver where there is no traffic. He let go of her hands and took a step back. The cool fingers of the evening air slipped between them and Hope shivered.
She hadnt always been in Weaver and she knew good and well that guys who looked this good didnt seek out Hope Leoni because of her physical attributes. Only she couldnt for the life of her think what Tristan hoped to gain by pursuing this.
Which brought her squarely back to the assumption that he was merely amusing himself. His heart may have seemed to thunder in tempo with hers. But in all likelihood it had just been her muddled senses. Which were quickly clearing again, thank goodness.
I think you should go see Drew, Hope suggested. He and Jolie are building a place a few minutes outside of town. I watch their little boy on
Good evening, Hope. Tristan. Id heard you were back. For the wedding, I presume?
Hope looked desperately at the sidewalk underneath her feet, wishing it would open up and swallow her. But it stayed dismayingly solid. She wrapped her hands once more around her purse strap and turned around to face Bennett Ludlow, the head of the school board. The man had left his parked car and stood on the sidewalk behind them.
Yes, Tristan said abruptly, barely sparing the other man a glance. Ill drive you home, Hope.
His hand touched the small of her back, igniting a warm, melting glow.
You mean you two were here together? Bennetts white teeth smiled, but Hope knew the older man too well not to see the wheels clicking inside his brain. He was undoubtedly wondering the same thing Hope was. Why?
Not really, Hope answered quickly. And I think Ill walk home. Its such a lovely evening. She didnt dare look up into Tristans face again. Every time she looked into his eyes, her sensible brain simply ground to a halt. And the last thing she needed was to look as muddled as she felt with Bennett there to witness it.
She wondered if shed ever be able to forget that shed been hired last year as a last resort because no other more qualified teacher had been available.
She smiled vaguely at both men and hurried across the street.
Shes not your usual type, is she, old boy?
Irritation bubbled beneath Tristans calm as he watched Hope reach the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He looked at Bennett. The attorney was as much a part of Weaver and the surrounding community as the Clays. More so than Tris, in fact. Because Bennett had returned to Weaver after college and Tris had not. Not that theyd ever had a lot to do with each other since Bennett was more Sawyers age than Tristans. Should I be flattered you think you know my type, Bennett? he asked lazily. Didnt think you cared.
Bennetts face tightened. Before they moved away from Weaver, Gerri and Justine Leoni always were after a nice meal ticket, but Id hoped that Hope had more sense than her mother and
Go on inside and enjoy a steak, Tris smoothly interrupted. Double-C beef, you know, he added as he started after Hope. Cant be beat.
Certainly not by the failing spread that Bennetts parents had once run, long ago. Theyd sold out to the Double-C more than twenty years earlier. As far as Tris knew, Bennett had hated the Clays ever since. And though Tris didnt give two hoots and a holler what Bennett thought or said about them, having that cap-toothed blowhard look down his nose at the LeonisHope in particularwas more than Tris could stand.
Hope. She was running away from him like the dogs of hell were at her heels. He wasnt so conceited that he believed all women found him irresistible. But he was wholly aware that Hope felt the same drugging attraction that he did, whether she admitted it or not.
He wanted her. Badly.
Seducing virgins was the one thing over which Tris drew the line. But a kiss was not a seduction.
He wanted to kiss her, and he knew she wanted it, too. But what had him going after her now was not the irrefutable urge to taste her lips, but the hurt in her eyes she hadnt been able to hide.
He quickened his step and caught up with her just as she was turning the corner toward her house. The hem of her white and purple flowered dress flared out behind her.
Hold up there, sweet pea.
She looked over her shoulder once, but kept walking.
He swore silently and lengthened his stride, stepping in her path. She sidestepped, but he wasnt dancing. He closed his hands over her shoulder and she stopped cold. His gut tightened even more at the silvery trail wending its way down her sculpted cheekbones. Im sorry.
Her chin angled. Dont flatter yourself.
He thumbed away a tear drop. What are they for?
My shoes are pinching my feet, she said flatly. Red color flooded her cheeks.
Little liar. He hoped she never played poker. That milky pale skin of hers would give her away every time. He looked down at the confection of narrow straps and tiny heels gracing her feet. They were shamelessly feminine, sexy shoes and not at all what hed expect her to wear with that ill-fitting sack of a dress. He crouched down, circling her ankle with his palm.
What are you doing? She pressed her palm to his shoulder, but he still managed to lift her foot and slide off the supposedly offending shoe. That was the nice thing about the element of surprise. He confiscated the other shoe, too, then swept her up into his arms.
She gasped, her eyes as wide as a childs. What are you doing?
Its my fault your feet are hurting, he explained reasonably, looking down into her shocked face. I said Id give you a lift.
A ride, she sputtered faintly.
He shrugged and turned up her street. He didnt dare think about how comfortable she felt in his arms, even squirming and kicking her legs the way she was. Whats the difference?
Well, one is in a car, she hissed. Put me down before someone sees usoh, fabulous.
Hope? Is everything all right here?
Hope smiled back at the openly curious question issued from a very pregnant woman who was watering a row of flowers in her yard. Tris noticed, however, that Hopes smile was frantic around the edges. How are you feeling, Brenda? Your baby should be here any day now, right?
Next week, the other woman said. Her eyes were suspicious. You sure youre okay?
Shes fine, Tris said easily. Stepped on a stone. He kept right on walking.
Even though he held Hope squarely in his arms, he could feel her straining as if to reduce the contact between their bodies. Brenda Wyatt is one of the biggest gossips in the county, she muttered. Shes probably already heading to her phone to spread the word.
Tris cut across the corner of Hopes green lawn and carried her up the steps. A glance over his shoulder told him that Hope was probably right. Brenda-the-Blab was gone, and the screen door at the front of her house was swinging in the faint breeze because it hadnt caught the latch. People in this town have always gossiped.
Yes, Hope agreed tightly. And half the time its been about one of the infamous Leoni women, whether it was my mother or my sister. She leaned over and pushed open her front door. Put me down.
Tris turned sideways and carried her into her living room. The furnishings were as uncomplicated as hed expected: long lines and soft pillows, all in soft colors that reminded him of deliciously cool ice cream cones. The only gossip I ever heard about your mother or your sister was that they were beautiful. He settled her on the couch where an enormous orange cat slept in a ball. There. Youre down.
They were beautiful. Justine is beautiful. Shes the kind of woman you should take out for steak.
How is Justine, anyway? I havent seen her in years. What he remembered about Justine was that shed been, well, popular was the polite term. Before Justine and her mother had left town, shed been ahead of him in school several years, but that hadnt meant that Tris hadnt appreciated her sultry appeal.
Shes in Washington State, now.
Married?
Three times. And the people of this town thought shed never find a husband with her wild, wicked ways, Hope quipped, but the sarcastic tone failed and she just sounded defensive. Of course, shes divorcing number three, so maybe they had a point.
Tris sat on the couch, too, and Hope popped up like a golden-crisp slice of bread flying out of a toaster. He stretch his legs comfortably. What does she do there?
She works in a bank. We dont talk much. Shes older than you are. Hope had walked across the floor to look through the sheer, butter-yellow curtains that covered the big picture window overlooking her front yard. Oh, nuts. She abruptly turned away from the window, drawing her eyebrows together.
Whats wrong?
She shook her head and turned on the floor lamp that stood near the window. Bright light flooded the room, banishing the lengthening shadows. Gram is driving up.
Ruby? I havent seen her in ages.
Hope glared at his left ear. You dont understand at all, do you?
Whatever was turning Hopes eyes to panic, he couldnt guess. But he understood all too well that the light was shining from behind Hope, turning her white sack dress with the tiny purple flowers into a translucent sack, barely veiling the long legs and hourglass curves beneath.
He ordered his heart to start beating again and inhaled slowly.
Hopes wiry grandmother walked right into the house without knocking. Her sharp eyes focused on Tris, then turned to Hope. But that one look left him feeling like he was fifteen again and had been caught making out with Suzette Lipton in the alley behind Rubys Caf. He was relieved he was sitting on the couch with the distance of the entire living room between him and Hope.
Ive had five calls at the caf, young lady, Ruby said briskly, all wanting to impart the news that my granddaughter was seen dancing down the middle of the streets with him. Now, I want to know what is going on!
Tris laughed abruptly, which earned him another stern look from Ruby. He waited for Hope to explain, to defend herself, to tell her grandmother she was a grown woman who could do what she wanted if she chose, but Hope said nothing. She just stood there, looking at her grandmother with dismay emanating from every pore.
He rose and joined Hope, automatically sliding an arm around her shoulders, instinctively trying to support her. To alleviate the expression of dread darkening her eyes. I carried her from the corner to this house, he said evenly. Her feet were hurting her. Hed never felt strongly about explaining himself, and he didnt, even now. But he really hated the look on Hopes face. Really, really hated it.
It wasnt a comfortable realization. Because Tris never hated anything. He never hated and he never loved. He never felt that strongly one way or the other about anything. Except, maybe, his work. He was certainly a believer of the passion of the body, but he left all that passion of the heart to others.
Rubys lips tightened. She propped her aging hands on her hips and ignored Tris. Hope, you know how people in this town talk. Why would you do such a thingright out in the street like that?
Ruby, Tris interrupted. He knew good and well that Hopes feet had been just fine. Forget about it. Theres no harm done.
Hope shook her head and turned away from her grandmother, pulling away from the arm that Tristan had tucked disturbingly around her shoulder.
Young man, Ruby said sternly, have you been gone from this town for so long youve forgotten how it operates? The only thing my granddaughter has is her reputation, and you come blowing into town for a few minutes of entertainment and destroy it without blinking.
Gram! Hope fastened her hands around her grandmothers arm and tugged her gently to the door. Tristan was only beingkind, she said. But hes going home, now. So you can go back to the caf and tell everyone that nothing is going on.
Hope, youre so innocent, girl. You wouldnt know a wolf in sheeps clothing if he bit you on the nose.
Gram! She couldnt bring herself to look at Tristan. She pulled her grandmother out the front door. You are embarrassing me, she whispered under her breath.
Everyone knows he lives in the fast lanehas ever since he earned all that money making fancy computer things, her grandmother said sternly. If youre not careful he could take advantage of you just the way Justine and Gerri were.
Tristan Clays not the least bit interested in me that way.
Ha! Ruby headed down the path. Open your eyes, girl. That man has got one thing on his mind, and sore feet is not it!
Hope groaned and turned toward the door. She chewed the inside of her lip and prayed fervently that Tristan hadnt been able to hear her grandmothers outlandish worries.
She reached for the screen door and pulled it open, catching her breath when Tristan stepped right in front of her. Her fingers clenched over the door handle.
Your grandmother is right. His face was hard, his jaw tight. And there was no trace of amusement in his heavy-lidded blue gaze. None at all. Im not interested in sore feet.
Tristan, please. My grandmother is being ridiculous, I know that. I know you dont feel that way about
I didnt say I didnt want to have you in my bed, Hope. I do. But no matter how much I want that, sweet pea, I dont intend todeflower you. Youre safe from me.
Chapter Four
Nothing was going right today.
Hopes blow dryer blew a gasket or something, which meant that her hair was wet when she twisted it into a knot at the back of her head. She knew it looked even more unappealing than usual.
Of course, if shed stuck to her guns the evening before and refused to join Tristan for dinner, Hopes hair would have been dry by the time she needed to leave for Sunday worship.
Even afterward, if she hadnt spent half the night swinging on a pendulum, she would have tended to business. But no, shed paced around her small house, feeling astonishment. Shed rearranged her living room furniture twice, feeling disbelief. Shed yanked weeds under the moonlight in her backyard, feeling a fearful excitement.
So, her house was spotless, her furniture ended up right where it had been when shed started and her garden was immaculate. But her hair was still a mess until morning.
Now, it was a wet, albeit clean, mess.
After the blow dryer had died, her ironapparently sympathetic to the dryerhad shorted out, too. Her cotton dress was still presentable. Barely. Having to chase after Simon, her cat, at the last minute hadnt helped the dress. Shed been hot and frustrated by the time she finally coaxed him out from the bushes where he liked to hide.
At least shed caught him before hed prowled down to Brenda Wyatts house. Brendas husband hated cats, and Hope wasnt sure if her runaway cat would escape unscathed the next time he was caught eating Brendas nasturtiums.
She could have driven her little car to church, but she knew there would be no parking left. And now, by the time shed cut through the neighborhood and walked up the front steps of the church, she could hear the congregation inside already singing and she quietly slipped into the empty pew in the rear, fumbling a hymnal out of the rack. She dropped it and it thudded loudly on the floor just as the music ended.
It seemed as if half the town turned to look and see whod made the racket. She smiled weakly and sat, feeling around with her hand for the hymnal, but it seemed to have scooted up under the pew ahead of her.
She still felt eyes watching her, and she wished that shed just taken the hint when the dryer died and stayed home.
Except if she hadnt shown up at church the way she had done every Sunday of every month of every year shed lived in Weaver, shed have ten people trooping by her house later to find out why.
After shed come down with the flu last year when Ruby was in Washington visiting Justine, Hopes visitors had brought homemade soup and fresh flowers and crossword puzzles. She didnt think having visitors this time would be such a blessing.
The hairs on her neck prickled.
She blinked and saw Jolie staring at her pointedly from her seat on the aisle a few pews ahead. Hope frowned, shaking her head slightly.
Jolie rolled her eyes and subtly jabbed her thumb out. Hope followed the direction and stared, stunned at the sight of Tristan sitting there in church. There was no mistaking the back of his head; shed never known anyone with hair that brilliantly golden.
She hurriedly closed her mouth and glanced at Jolie. Her friend was smiling, knowingly. Hope frowned at her, hoping Jolie could read her expression that there was no earthly reason to connect Hope with Tristans once-in-a-blue-moon appearance at worship.
Feet shuffled and Hope dragged her attention to the service, as she stood with the rest of the congregation and read the gospel lesson. But her mind wasnt on the words. It was on the man three rows ahead of her.
When the service was winding down nearly an hour later, Hopes attention still remained on Tristan. He hadnt turned around once to see her, and she told herself that she was relieved.
But she was sitting in church, and the lie tore at her. When the congregation rose once again to sing the last hymn, Hope quietly backed out of the church. If she ended up with calls from Gram and others that afternoon, it would be better than standing there visiting after the service, pretending that she didnt care two hoots that Tristan was around.
She pressed her hand to her forehead. She was a blooming fool, thats what she was. Creating ridiculous fantasies in her head.
Standing just outside the church doors, Tris watched Hope scurry away. It was definitely becoming too familiar a sight, he decided. He stopped and greeted the minister briefly, complimenting the man on his sermon even though he wouldve been pressed to recall the topic. Hed been too preoccupied with the young woman whod sneaked in late to sit a few rows behind him.
Guess no good deed goes unpunished, Sawyer said softly, mockingly, behind him.
Tris slid his sunglasses on and ignored his brother. So what if hed come to church only in the hopes of catching Hope for a minute or two? What was more above-board than running into each other at church?
Tristan, youre welcome to join us for dinner this afternoon, said Rebecca, repeating the invitation that hed already declined once. I know Ryan wants to have a chance to talk your ear off about his new computer.
Tris tugged on the bill of Ryans ball cap. Maybe later. But dont hold up the meal if I dont show.
Ryan grinned and darted off to join his friend. Sawyer slid his arm around Rebeccas shoulders and snorted softly. Tris, if your rental car is seen in town anywhere this afternoon other than at our place, the remaining half of this town that hasnt been talking about your stroll down the street with Hope yesterday, will be. Leave her alone.
Sawyer, dont pick on Tristan like that.
Hes a big boy, Bec, and you dont know what hes like with women.
Tristans good humor was fading fast. And youre so sure you know? he asked Sawyer. I thought you were a big believer in the innocent-til-proven theory.
You havent been innocent since you were fifteen, Sawyer replied dryly. Youre gonna do what youre gonna do no matter what anyone says. Justremember where you are.
Rebecca was making a face. Sawyers a fine one to talk. She stretched up and kissed Tristans cheek. Maybe well see you later, she said calmly, then looked at her husband. Ryan is going home with Eric for a while, she said softly.
Despite his annoyance, Tris felt a smile tug at him as Sawyer cast his wife a long look, then smiled slowly as they walked away. He pulled the car keys out of his pocket and started toward the small, still-congested lot. Most of the cars belonged to people whod driven in from the outlying areas, since the town itself was small enough to walk pretty well anywhere.
But, as he approached his car, he realized that a van parked crookedly in the lot was responsible for the holdup. He shook his head faintly and cut between two pickups. He wanted to go by Hopes place. Maybe he could talk her into going for a drive. They could invite Drew and his wife if it would put Hope more at ease. He knew she and Jolie were friends
Mr. Clay, is it true that you and Ms. Leoni are living together?
He jerked around, gravel grinding under his boot and came face-to-face with a microphone and an enormous camera. What the hell? The microphone shoved closer and he pushed it away. Get out of my face.
.
.
, (https://www.litres.ru/allison-leigh/married-to-a-stranger/) .
Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, , , , PayPal, WebMoney, ., QIWI , .
Allison Leigh
Back in sleepy Weaver, Wyoming, for his father's wedding, rich and handsome Tristan Clay found himself unaccountably attracted to bespectacled Hope Leonia homespun, hometown schoolmarm! With every fiber of his astonished being, he craved her innocent kiss. Just a kissnothing more.Tristan knew better to flirt further with such a sweet, virginal temptation especially in this town. Yet in one short week his sensual attention compromised Hope's hard-won reputation, jeopardizing her job. And suddenlythough wedding bells gave him the williesthe only way to make things rightwas to make Hope his wife!
Oh, God. What have we done? Hope gasped.
Tristan would have been amused at the panic rounding her violet eyes if he hadnt been wondering the same thing himself.
He rarely acted impulsively. He trusted his instincts, which seldom failed him. But this time his instincts had fully deserted him.
All because of this virginal, violet-eyed temptress.
What have we done? he repeated.
The irony burned. A week ago hed started out thinking hed like to taste Hope Leonis soft-looking lips. That was all.
He hadnt gotten a kiss. He hadnt gotten anything that everybody in town seemed to think hed been getting.
No, he hadnt gotten a kiss.
Hed gotten a wife!
Dear Reader,
During the warm days of July, what better way to kick back and enjoy the best of summer reading than with six stellar stories from Special Edition as we continue to celebrate Silhouettes 20th Anniversary all year long!
With The Pint-Sized Secret, Sherryl Woods continues to delight her readers with another winning installment of her popular miniseries AND BABY MAKES THREE: THE DELACOURTS OF TEXAS. Reader favorite Lindsay McKenna starts her new miniseries, MORGANS MERCENARIES: MAVERICK HEARTS, with Man of Passion, her fiftieth book. A stolen identity leads to true love in Patricia Thayers compelling Whose Baby Is This? And a marriage of convenience proves to be anything but in rising star Allison Leighs Married to a Stranger in her MEN OF THE DOUBLE-C RANCH miniseries. Rounding off the month is celebrated author Pat Warrens Doctor and the Debutante, where the healthy dose of romance is just what the physician ordered, while for the heroine in Beth Hendersons Maternal Instincts, a baby-sitting assignment turns into a practice run for motherhoodand marriage.
Hope you enjoy this book and the other unforgettable stories Special Edition is happy to bring you this month!
All the best,
Karen Taylor Richman,
Senior Editor
Married to a Stranger
Allison Leigh
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my daughters.
Live your dreams.
Books by Allison Leigh
Silhouette Special Edition
* (#litres_trial_promo)Stay #1170
* (#litres_trial_promo)The Rancher and the Redhead #1212
* (#litres_trial_promo)A Wedding for Maggie #1241
* (#litres_trial_promo)A Child for Christmas #1290
Millionaires Instant Baby #1312
* (#litres_trial_promo)Married to a Stranger #1336
ALLISON LEIGH
started early by writing a Halloween play that her grade-school class performed for her school. Since then, though her tastes have changed, her love for reading has not. And her writing appetite simply grows more voracious by the day.
Born in Southern California, she has lived in eight different cities in four different states. She has been, at one time or another, a cosmetologist, a computer programmer and an administrative assistant.
Allison and her husband currently make their home in Arizona, where their time is thoroughly filled with two very active daughters, full-time jobs, pets, church, family and friends. In order to give herself the precious writing time she craves, she burns a lot of midnight oil.
A great believer in the power of loveher parents still hold handsshe cannot imagine anything more exciting to write about than the miracle of two hearts coming together.
Contents
Prologue (#u92bfe6d9-d493-54e3-826c-48b4ea5b3f64)
Chapter One (#u2b9b6b1e-bbea-59f9-97a4-ec19b4f957e3)
Chapter Two (#u20cd277e-8833-5d1b-9985-6ce924a0ef17)
Chapter Three (#ub03537c7-449b-5506-b0c5-ffbd1fc0bd10)
Chapter Four (#u038ad8bc-7fc6-5ebf-8d27-c4098cb342da)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue
All hed wanted was a kiss. A simple kiss.
So how on Gods green earth had his life gotten so out of control in just one week over something so simple?
Tris rolled his head against the cushioned seat and looked across the aisle of the custom-fitted jet. Hope was still asleep. She certainly had no head for alcohol.
His jaw was so tight it ached. He had earned himself a doozy of a headache, too. But he knew it wasnt from champagne, or whiskey or anything even remotely alcoholic. Hed barely choked down the few toasts theyd had at the receptionhalf a glass of champagne wasnt anywhere near enough to set this pain in his head to throbbing.
No, his headache had begun a little over a week ago, he knew. Brought on strictly by himself.
He shoved his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. But the sight of the woman stretched out on the long seat across from him was firmly burned into his brain.
Hopes toffee-colored hair had fallen loose at some point on the drive to the airport. When hed carried her onto the private jet, the long, thick waves had clung to his shirt, flowed over his arm and streamed behind them in the night breeze. Now, they lay tangled and gleaming over her shoulders, off the couch, nearly touching the carpeted floor.
Hed slipped off her narrow-heeled shoes and set them on the floor beside her. Her dressso obviously an antique that he knew women whod have given their eyeteeth for the ankle-length garmenthad worked its way up her shapely calves. With one knee drawn upward, the fabric pulled in a taut stretch of beige-tinted lace over the back of her thighs and her derriere.
She was a total innocent, and lying there, so soundly asleep, she was temptation personified.
Temptation. Thats what had gotten them into this mess in the first place. Tris should have known better than to flirt with temptation. God knows she didnt have enough experience to fight the blistering sparks between them.
But he was experienced. And older. And he should have known better. His heart might not be programmed for love and happily-ever-after, but he was on a first-name basis with the desires of the flesh.
Tris could feel the plane banking. There was no point in looking out the little oval windows. It was pitch-dark out there. Dark above, dark below, dark all around.
Even this luxurious main cabin of the plane was dark, except for one small lamp burning near him. It cast enough glow to highlight the lace dress and glossy hair of the woman across from him.
He wasnt sure how long he sat there, legs sprawled out before him, his chin resting on his steepled fingers. It could have been one hour or three. But finally, Hope sighed deeply and shifted. Her hand tumbled off the cushion and grazed the carpet. The light glinted on the platinum ringsone plain and one studded with a trio of excruciatingly perfect diamondscircling her ring finger.
The rings he had put there.
She turned her head and pushed her thick hair out of her eyes. She blinked drowsily and he figured her vision was probably blurry, because her eyeglasses were sitting on the round side table beside his seat.
Comprehension slowly dawned in her eyes. He waited, knowing just when that memory clicked into place, because she breathed in sharply and yanked her feet off the cushion to sit up.
Where are we? Hope pressed a trembling hand to her head.
More than halfway to Paris.
Her shoulders seemed to sag. I drank too much, she murmured. Ive neverOh, God. What have we done?
Tris would have been amused at the panic rounding her violet eyes if he hadnt been wondering the same thing. He rarely acted impulsively. And even his actions over the last few days had been fairly deliberate. He trusted his instincts, listened to his gut because it rarely failed him.
But now, sitting here in this private jet equipped with every comfort known to man, from a whirlpool tub and a down-covered bed, to a fully equipped kitchen, to an array of computerized equipment that could run a small country if need be, his instincts had fully deserted him.
All because of this violet-eyed temptress.
What have we done? he repeated. Hed taken the easiest path of solving her problem. Weve stopped the gossip about us, effectively removing any reason for you to lose your teaching job.
Thats all theyd done.
The irony burned. Hed started out thinking hed like to taste her soft-looking lips. That was all.
He still hadnt kissed her. Not really. That quick, off-centered glancing of lips earlier that day didnt count.
He hadnt gotten a kiss. He hadnt gotten anything that everybody in town and beyond seemed to think hed been getting. It was almost laughable.
Tris picked up her eyeglasses and leaned forward, handing them to her. But in the end, nothing about this situation was laughable.
Particularly the fact that the young woman slipping the gold-rimmed glasses on her nose hadless than twelve hours ago, stood where hed long ago vowed never to standin front of a minister, promising to love, honor and cherish.
He hadnt gotten a kiss.
Hed gotten a wife.
Chapter One
Eight days earlier.
I think thats plenty, darlin. If you dont mind. Hope Leoni blinked, dragged her eyes from the deep blue gaze of the man sitting at the counter across from her. And realized she was pouring coffee all across the counter.
Well, not precisely across the counter. But it was overflowing the thick white coffee cup, the utilitarian saucer beneath it, quickly pooling around the base. Worse, it flowed into a rich brown river that ran straight to the edge of the counter and into the smoky gray sweater the man wore, creating a large spot where hed been leaning against the counter edge. Now he sat back with a muffled comment.
Her cheeks burned and she hastily set down the glass coffee carafe and grabbed a cloth from behind the counter, mopping up her mess. Im so sorry. She mopped, sopped, wiped and tried not to stare when, with a spare movement, he yanked the sweater over his head and tossed it onto the stool beside him. She dragged her attention from the plain white T-shirt that remained, hugging his broad shoulders, only to realize she was equally distracted by the thick gold hair that tumbled over his forehead. I dont know what I was thinking
He, the manthe blond god with a face that could make angels weepput one hand over hers, stopping her motions. No sweat, darlin.
She didnt know which made her blood flow faster until it zipped along her veins with a fevered frenzythe touch of his hand atop hers, or the casual endearment murmured in his low voice. The schoolgirl fantasies in which hed been the star seemed as recent as yesterday. I, uh, Im not usually so clumsy. I cant believe I
Hey. His long, long fingers encircled hers. Slid around her hand, beneath it; square, warm palm meeting hers. Warm. Dry. Hard.
Every sound fadedthe dog that had been barking half the morning from where it was tied up outside the sheriffs office a few doors down, the tractor mower that somebody was running over at the high school, the music from the radio on the shelf in the corner.
All of that faded. She could hear her pulse, thundering in her ears. Could hear her breath, slowly easing past her lips. She could hear the soft chink of his gold wristwatch as it bumped the counter beneath their hands.
Relax, he said in that voice that hypnotized. Nobodys going to fire you over a little spilled coffee. Certainly not Ruby, whos got a heart bigger than Wyoming.
At the mention of Ruby, owner of Rubys Caf and, more importantly, Hopes grandmother, some of Hopes scattered senses returned. She tugged her hand, relieved and disappointed all at once when their hands separated. She picked up the damp cloth, rubbing her palm against the wet, rough, terry cloth. Im well aware of Grams generosity.
Gram?
Hope pulled her gaze from his mouth. From the way it tilted at the corner when he spoke as if he were perpetually amused. AhRuby. You knowshes my grandmother. Im Hope. HopeLeoni.
He nodded, giving her the impression that he was absorbing every nonsensical syllable she uttered. Which was, of course, ridiculous.
Men who looked like this man didnt hang on every syllable of the very ordinary Hope Leoni. Only he was nodding, his eyes thoughtful. Thats right, he said. Ruby did have a little granddaughter she was raising.
I didnt think youd remember that. Again, she forced herself to look beyond the mesmerizing way his lips shaped his wordsto take in the thick, burnished blond hair, the sapphire-colored eyes that even dark circles beneath couldnt dim, the sharply angled jaw. The astounding width of his shoulders. You, um, dont visit Weaver very often. Hope felt her cheeks heat all over again.
When hed moved away from Wyoming, she truly had been Rubys little granddaughter. But that hadnt kept her or any other girl growing up in Weaver from developing a crush on the Wyoming boy whod made good.
Well, Im here now and its nice to meet you, officially, Hope Leoni. Tristan Clay. He shifted and stuck out his hand, obviously waiting.
Hope swallowed, placing her hand in his. She was almost prepared for the jolt, but still her breath audibly caught and her cheeks burned. You, too, Mrah, Clay.
His smile widened gently but there was something daunting about his impossibly steady gaze, so intensely blue among thick lashes that were surprisingly dark for someone so blond and golden. Tristanll do.
She swallowed, far too aware that he still held her hand engulfed in his much larger one. I suppose youre here for your fathers wedding. The whole town is buzzing with excitement.
Finally, finally, his lashes lowered. His thumb brushed across the back of her hand. This town buzzes with excitement when the lone traffic signal turns red. Do you work here all the time, Hope?
She knew she should pull away her hand. But his thumb made that gentle little swirl again and she couldnt bring herself to move. Yes, she breathed. No. I mean, I work here during the summer. When school starts, Ill
His expression didnt change. School?
I teach at the elementary school. Kindergarten through third.
Lucky kids. Married? Engaged? Going steady?
She swallowed, nearly choking. No.
Again that smooth, gentle swirl against her hand, the faint tilt at the corner of his mouth. Why not?
Her fingers curved. She tugged again and had the impression that he wanted to smile when she pushed her hands into the front pockets of her pink waitress uniform. No particular reason, she answered, hoping that her trembling nerves didnt show in her voice as badly as she suspected. Except shed have to be asked on a date again before she could worry about marriage proposals. You? His smile widened a bit, and he shook his head. Her cheeks flamed hotly. Of course, in a town as small as Weaver, news would have spread like wildfire if he had settled down with one woman.
He was Tristan Clay, the youngest of the Clay brothers of the enormous Double-C cattle ranch located some twenty miles away from town. He was rich, golden-beautiful and successful even without his familys holdings, which were reportedly the largest in the state. Hed developed some type of software when hed been younger than she was now that had revolutionized the industry. Had dated famous women, danced in Europe with princesses and slept in the White House.
When Hope had been in school, every girl in town had dreamed of capturing the interest of Tristan Clay on his rare visits to his familys ranch. It didnt matter that he was grown and gone and the schoolgirls were just thatgirls. The articles about him in the newspapers or magazines years ago had been clipped, savored in scrapbooks or tacked up on bedroom walls.
Hope had so envied her friend, Jolie, who had been allowed to pin up her favorite articles about her latest heartthrob. Gram had refused to let Hope attach anything to her bedroom walls other than a landscape or a print of the Last Supper. As if by doing so shed be able to prevent Hope from turning into the wild child her sister Justine had been.
But Gram hadnt known about the clipping Hope had had inside her geometry book. The one of Tristan, when hed made the papers about some high-tech espionage hed foiled. His appearances in the news had dwindled to nothing over the last six or seven yearsa fact that had roused its own share of curiositybut Hope knew, to her everlasting embarrassment, that her private hoard of clippings were still packed away somewhere in her closet.
And now, here he sat, across the counter from where she stood, with his intense blue gaze steady on her face as if there was no place else in the world he wanted to be.
Ridiculous, of course. Tristan Clay was just killing time until he headed out to his familys place.
Yet, he was here in her grandmothers caf, wearing blue jeans that were washed soft and nearly white. The dark gray crew-neck sweater hed worn had looked like cashmere. But hed dumped it on the stool with no regard for the coffee soaking it. And if she wasnt mistaken, thered even been a small hole in one of the cuffs that had been pushed halfway up his golden-brown, sinewy forearms.
For a self-professed computer geek, his body looked both lean and hard. Her cheeks heated once again at her wayward thoughts. Since when did she speculate on the hardness of a mans body? Not since you were a silly teenager, mooning over an article clipping about a man completely out of your league.
Now her ears were burning, too. She swiped a loose strand of hair away from her cheek, nudged up the nose piece of her glasses and made a production of looking at the round clock high on the wall at the end of the counter.
It was three-thirty and the caf was supposed to close at two every day until it reopened at six. But Hope had left the front and back doors propped open to take advantage of the lovely June afternoon while she prepared for the supper crowd.
It wasnt the first summer shed spent working in her grandmothers caf. It wasnt likely to be the last. But come the fall, Hope would begin her second year of teaching at Weaver Elementary and her mind had been filled with plans of that. And the relief of it, because shed known the vote of the three-person school board to keep the school open at all had been terribly close.
Shed come out of the kitchen, her head filled with school projects and ideas, only to find Tristan sitting at one of the counter stools. His arms had been folded across the shining surface, his wide shoulders hunched tiredly. Shed begun telling him they were closed, but hed looked up and Hope had been lost in the intensity of his eyes.
Tristan had been gone from the area for so long that he probably didnt remember that Rubys Caf closed after lunch. Yet telling him that was quite possibly the last thing on this earth that shed wanted to do.
She now cast around for something intelligent to say. But could only think of the same topic shed brought up earlier. So, youre here for your fathers wedding next Saturday?
He nodded and shifted on the stool, finally blinking his eyes and glancing away. But only for a moment. One moment when she could breathe normally, and then he looked at her again, and she simply forgot how. She nudged at her slipping glasses, then pushed her hands into her pockets once more. Ive met Gloria Day. She felt the tips of her ears go hot at the way the words seemed to blurt out of her. Shes very nice. I, uh, hope your father and she are very happy.
He nodded, not replying. His long fingers wrapped around the cup and he tilted it, as if to drink. Hope automatically reached for the coffee pot and refilled his cup. Did you want to see a menu? She ignored the fact that she was due at her friends house in less than ten minutes. Shed promised to watch Evan, Jolies son, while Jolie and Drew Taggart drove to Gillette.
I remember when Ruby used to just write the specials on that chalkboard over there. Tristan glanced at the square board that was propped on a high corner shelf.
She still puts the specials on the board. Hope pulled a menu from beneath the counter and slid it across to him. But we offer more these days. I could fix you a sandwich or something.
Coffee, tea or me? Tris wanted to retract the suggestive words as soon as he said them. But they were already out there and hectic color was staining the waitress-teachers cheeks. Personally, he found the blush charming. How many women did he know anymore who blushed?
But hed obviously embarrassed her.
No. I guess not. He was oddly disappointed. She wasnt at all his type of woman. Hell, she looked barely old enough to vote, much less be a teacher. Besides, the only energy he had right now was expended simply by lifting the coffee cup to drain it of its life-giving liquid. He set the empty cup down, closed the menu and pushed to his feet, dropping a few bills on the counter as he did so.
He wondered when hed become so jaded that he couldnt recognize a naive girl when he met one. Not that he expected to see her again. He had a week to catch up on his brothers lives, then there was the wedding to get through. After that, he was due to meet Dom to finish up the case that had kept them all occupied far longer than anyone had expected, thanks to the mess made by a love-sick fool on their very own team. He didnt have time to dwell on Hopes innocent appeal. Thanks for the java. He headed to the open door. It was just what I needed.
Youre quite welcome.
He looked back at her painfully polite words. Her ivory cheeks were nearly as pink as the uniform-dress thing she wore. Behind her gold-rimmed glasses, her eyes were wide and so violet they looked like crushed flowers from the lilac bushes that bloomed around the big house at the ranch. If it werent for the glasses, hed have figured that she was wearing some colored contact lenses to achieve that vivid color. But they were obviously the genuine article.
He cupped his hand tightly around the metal edge of the glass door as his attention drifted from her eyes to the rosy fullness of her lips. To the gentle, rounded curve of her jaw and the smooth line of her throat where the delicate links of a fine gold chain disappeared beneath the ill-fitting uniform. Behind him, a dog barked and he reeled in thoughts that could get him arrested in some states. Apparently, he wasnt as beat from the last week as hed thought. Give my regards to your grandmother.
I will. Her tongue peeped out, leaving a distracting glisten on her lower lip. It was nice meeting you.
You too. Hope.
The color in her cheeks flared again, but she smiled. And he found himself smiling back.
Then he heard his name being called, and turned to see his oldest brother, Sawyer, standing on the street a few yards down. He absently waved at his brother, still looking back inside the caf. Feeling disappointed that Hope had turned away, busy with something at the counter.
Thought you were coming in next week.
Realizing that he was wondering how far her toffee-brown hair would reach down her back if it werent twisted into that thick, roping braid, Tris deliberately stepped away from the doorway toward Sawyer. Okay, so he took one more look into the caf before he did. What was the harm in looking? He was a man. She was a woman.
And his brother was the law now. Tris felt a smile growing on his face as his brother walked closer. The only indication of Sawyers new status as the sheriff was the star fastened unobtrusively to his leather belt. Except for the billed cap with a naval insignia that he wore, Sawyer looked much the same as the other men in the small rural town he now served. Well-worn blue jeans and a work shirt. I was, Tris finally answered with a grin. Youre missing the Stetson and spurs.
Sawyer shrugged, tucking the bow of his dark sunglasses in the collar of his shirt. Left the spurs at home. Rebecca likes em, you know, he said blandly.
Tris chuckled. You wish. How is my newest doctor-in-law?
My wife is beautiful and totally in love with me. You can save your charms for someone else. Sawyer leaned his back against the hood of a pickup parked at the curb. Youre early.
So you already mentioned. Tris looked back toward the caf when he heard the soft jingle of a bell. All he saw, though, was the door closing. The blinds had been drawn across all the windows. Cafe still closed during the afternoons?
Regular as rain.
She didnt tell me, he murmured.
Ruby?
Hope. He felt his brothers look. What?
Sawyer just shook his head. What do you do? Some kind of chant that brings women running?
All I had was a cup of coffee. Ordinarily, Tris would have shrugged off his brothers taunt without feeling a shred of defensiveness.
Yeah, well, I know you. Hope teaches at the elementary school. Everyone in this town looks on her as their daughter, or their sister. So keep your mitts off.
The fact that his brother seemed to think he needed the warning burned. Thanks for the enthusiastic welcome home, bro.
Sawyers expression didnt change. Because he was the oldest of his brothers? Because he was the sheriff? Because he was one of Squire Clays sons and had picked up an endless amount of Clay nosiness along the way?
Hope Leoni is, sweet, unbearably sexy and way too innocent, of no interest to me, Tris said dismissively. Maybe if he said it with enough conviction, hed make it true.
Hopes fingers crushed the paper bag holding the rolls she was taking out to the Taggarts, when she heard Tristans voice, easily carried around the side of the caf on the warm summer breeze.
She yanked open the door of her little green car and tossed the sack onto the passenger seat. Of course youre of no interest to him, she muttered under her breath. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and pushed the key into the ignition, starting the engine with a roar. She threw it into gear and zipped around the side of the caf, jouncing out onto Main.
In her rearview mirror she could see Tristan and the sheriff standing on the sidewalk talking. Men like Tristan Clay dont have interest in women like you. Men in general dont have interest in you. Most of the town still considered her Rubys little granddaughter.
She was a fully qualified teacher. Shed moved into her own house and, despite the barely hidden reluctance of the school board, obtained the teaching position at Weaver Elementary. She didnt know what was worsestill being thought of as a teenager, or knowing that every move she made was measured and compared against the actions of her mother whod had the temerity to be an unwed mother, twice, or her sister, whod had to leave high school because of her wild ways.
Maybe she should accept the next time Larry Pope asked her out. He wasnt a bad guy, after all. In fact, as the math teacher at the high school, he was respected and well liked. Maybe if she dated him a time or two, the town would see that she wasnt her mother or her sister.
But surely that wasnt a good enough reason to go out with a man? To prove she could date without bringing shame to her grandmother the way people seemed to believe her mother and sister had? Larry was nice, yes. He just didnt make her forget her own name when she looked into hishiswhat color were Larrys eyes? Whatever color they were, they werent the deep blue that Tristan Clays were.
She made an impatient sound. Yes. The next time Larry Pope asked her out, shed accept. It wasnt as if there was a line of men beating down her door. It wasnt as if she was of interest to any male other than Larry Pope.
She hit the brakes abruptly, nearly passing the turn-off to the Taggarts place.
Several minutes later, she pulled up in front of the partially completed log home that her friends were building. As soon as she stopped the car, the door flew open and Evan tumbled out, racing toward her. Auntie Hope, he squealed, launching his five-year-old self with considerable enthusiasm at her legs. Hope laughed, swinging the boy in a circle, before settling him back on his feet.
He beamed, gap-toothed, back at her. There was another male who was interested in her after all, Hope thought wryly. Only he was seventeen years her junior and had a seven oclock bedtime. Come on, you, she said cheerfully. Lets hustle your folks along so we can finish writing your surprise story for your moms birthday.
And maybe, while they were at it, she could rid herself of foolish thoughts about Tristan Clay.
Chapter Two
Here. Hang these bows from the banister there.
Tris heaved a sigh and lowered his arm that hed laid across his eyes in a vain attempt to block out the light. I didnt think it possible, but marriage has actually made you more bossy, he complained, looking up at his sister-in-law, Emily Clay. Shed been raised with Tris and his brothers after her parents had been killed when she was little. But shed legally become a Clay when shed married his brother, Jefferson. And now they even had two kids.
And time has only made you more lazy. Move it. Emily nudged him with her foot. What are you doing lying here in the living room on the floor, anyway?
Trying to sleep, he muttered. So stop sticking your foot in my ribs.
She crouched down beside him, propping her arms on her knees. Her long brown hair slid over her shoulder, rich and dark as coffee. A thought which immediately brought to mind Hope Leoni of the pink cheeks and sweet smile. He squelched a groan and concentrated on Emily, who was speaking to him, her eyebrows raised with curiosity. Youre trying to sleep on the floor here in the living room because?
The couch is hard as a rock. He yawned and dropped his arm over his face again. And because Glorias daughters are using the guest suite downstairs.
What about your old bedroom upstairs?
Full up with packing boxes from Glorias house. Im told they were going to be gone by the time I was expected to arrive next week, but I have my doubts.
The couch in Matthews office?
Too short. And the rec room downstairs has paper doves and bells on every surface. He flexed his fingers. Doves, for Gods sake.
Its for a wedding shower, ding dong. You could have stayed with Jefferson and me, you know. Weve got room, even for a big dope like you.
Tris knew that. He also knew that he could have bunked with Daniel or Sawyer, too. But staying at the main house of the ranch, the big house, as they all called it, had seemed the easiest choice. Whether or not his father ever said so, Tris knew that staying at the big house was what Squire expected. Available bed or not.
He sat up, rubbing a hand across his jaw. He needed a shave. Hed stayed at Sawyer and Rebeccas place in town until nearly midnight. What time is it? Wheres Squire?
Nearly two in the afternoon and he better be in town visiting the barber. Jaimie says you came in late last night, crashed out here and havent risen since. Hung over?
Listen runt, I havent had a hangover in a month of Sundays. Hell, he rarely drank more than an occasional beer anymore. His days of excess had long passed.
Then what? You sick?
No, he said tolerantly. Em had been his best friend since they were bitty, so he made allowances for her that he ordinarily wouldnt have. Sleepy. Its not a crime, last I checked.
Her pansy-brown eyes narrowed. I also heard youve been circling Hope Leoni. Shes a little
His allowances only went so far. I dont go around jumping the town virgins, he said abruptly. You know, if my love life was as active as everyone seems to think, Id never get any work done.
And that work is? Her expression softened and she smiled peaceably. Never mind. I learned just how close-mouthed you Hollins-Winword dudes are from my darling husband. Now, about these bows.
Tris shook his head. No wonder Jefferson finally succumbed to you. Youre worse than water torture.
Her eyes danced. Thats right. And only because I love you will I warn you that the dove-decorated shower is set to begin in less than an hour. Therell be about twenty-five women trooping through this house, and I really dont want to explain your presence on the floor. Might ruin your classy image.
Tris made a face, but rolled to his feet. He rubbed Emilys head, deliberately messing up her hair the way hed done when they were kids, and headed upstairs, grabbing his duffel from where it still sat inside the dining room doorway.
Hed take a shower, then dive into a gallon of coffee. Then hed consider hanging damned bows from the banister for his sister-in-law. Maybe.
Only, when he came out of the shower, considerably more alert and marginally more presentable in clean jeans and shirt, he could hear a horde of women chattering and laughing as they arrived. If he wanted coffee, he had to go down there among all of them to get it.
Not that he was ever averse to being among women. As far as Tris was concerned, it was one of the more pleasurable places to be. But this was a wedding shower.
Frankly, the whole notion made his skin itch.
He waited an interminable twenty caffeine-deprived minutes before he went downstairs to the now-empty kitchen, and the coffee pot that he prayed would be hot and full, as usual.
It was, and he stood there at the counter, singeing his tongue as he downed two fast cups, frowning at the playpen that sat on the floor on the other side of the table next to the wall. For now, it was empty of babies even though the family was full of them these days. Emily, Jaimie and Maggie had all had a baby within the last six months.
He shuddered, poured a third cup of coffee and carried it with him through the mudroom and outside.
The sun was bright. Warm. The air filled with the rich scent of mown grass. Across the gravel road separating the big house from the outbuildings and corrals, horses grazed and Matthews retriever chased a butterfly.
He squinted and poured more coffee down his throat. He was glad his brothers were busy with the hundred chores required every day to keep the place running. It meant that they were thoroughly busy, and Tris could find another place to grab a few more zs, undisturbed.
He slowly wandered around the side of the house, past lilac bushes heavy with blossoms and immediately thought of Hopes striking eyes. He stifled an oath. Hed learned a lot about Miss Hope Leoni while hed been hanging out at Sawyers place the evening before. She was a paragon of virtue; an apparent candidate for sainthood.
Which meant the vivid dream hed had about her that had awakened him around two in the morning was even more ill-advised.
He went up the front steps of the wide porch. Sighing with anticipation, he lowered himself onto the swing, propped his feet on the railing across from him, and dropped his head onto the wooden swing back.
Oh yeah. This was it. He yawned, scratched his jaw, and closed his eyes. This was the kind of break he needed. No noise, no tourists, no unexpected disasters at work. No wedding nonsense.
No damned dreams about innocent school teachers with violet eyes.
Shhh.
Is he sleeping or is he dead?
His feet are big. Theyre even bigger than Daddys, and I can put both my feet in his boot!
Girls, quiet down. Youll wake him.
Do we have to share our juice with him? I dont think we have enough for him. My mommy says Unca Twistin has a normous appaappa
Appetite.
Yeah. That.
Im sure he doesnt want any juice. Come on now, were going to have our picnic over there by those three trees. Remember?
But what if he does want some?
If he does, well share with him. It would be impolite not to.
But
Sshh. Over to the trees before we wake him.
Tris gritted his teeth, staring at the group of little girls, and one big girl through slitted eyes. Too late.
The little girls, his nieces, jumped and scattered as if hed grown three heads. The big girl, however, nudged up her gold-rimmed glasses and blinked with dismay. Im sorry. I didnt expect you to be out here sleeping, or Id have talked the girls into having our picnic elsewhere.
His coffee was cold. He finished it off, anyway, then pulled his feet off the rail and sat forward. I didnt expect to see you here, either.
Hope moistened her lips. Well. Sorry to have wakened you. She hefted her caramel-colored wicker basket more firmly between her arms.
He was wakened all right. What are you doing here?
Having a picnic with the girls.
No, I mean why are you with the kids and not at Glorias shower?
Im watching the children. Well, these guys, anyway. The babies are with their moms.
Why are you doing this?
Because I was asked to. She shook her head as if the answer was obvious.
How old are you, Hope?
She looked over her shoulder at the children who were crossing the gravel drive toward the grass on the other side. Nearly twenty-three. Sarah, honey, wait until you get to the grass before you take off your shoes, she called.
Nearly twenty-three. Hell. How many women did he know who claimed to be nearly any age but one at least a decade younger than was true? And now he had the hots for the babysitter. Had he ever had a babysitter? He tried to remember. Couldnt. Not enough coffee in him yet.
Ill watch the girls, he said abruptly. They were sweet little things, and he liked playing the uncle. It was as close a relationship to kids as he intended to get. You go join the women, he finished telling Hope.
Im hardly dressed for a wedding shower.
Which only brought his attention to the golden length of calf she displayed below the fringe of her knee-length, cut-off blue jeans. Hed have remembered if hed ever had a babysitter with legs like that.
Go on back and go to sleep, she was saying, and he dragged his attention upward, over denim worn thin anddid she have to wear such a baggy T-shirt? The obnoxious lime-green cotton hung around her hips, frustratingly loose and boxy. The babysitter, for cryin out loud!
But, um, thank you for the offer anyway. She smiled shyly and turned to follow the children.
He gave himself a mental shake. Sleep. Thats what he needed. Then he wouldnt feel sohell, what did he feel? Off balance?
He yawned again, watching the graceful sway of her long braid as she walked away, joining the children.
J.D. and Angeline belonged to Daniel and Maggie. Leandra was Jefferson and Emilys. And Sarah, the youngest, was Matthew and Jaimies. They all circled around Hope as she joined them and set them to work, spreading a bright yellow sheet.
He smiled faintly, though, when the girls didnt dig into the feastthey were too far away for him to see exactly what it was. But he recognized what the little girls preferred over the food when dozens and dozens of small, opalescent bubbles started floating over their heads, bobbing, swaying, popping.
Even Hope was blowing bubbles. He rested his arms on the rail and watched her purse her lips, blow and set a wiggling, wobbling train of soap bubbles into the afternoon breeze. She certainly wasnt shy when she dealt with the children.
He narrowed his eyes and pictured her face should he follow them. Shed probably stare at his feet or his left ear, and shed turn white, then red. And all the while hed be thinking hed like to see her when she wasnt wearing that baggy T-shirt that hid her curves from prying eyes like his.
God. He sat back in his chair and pressed the heels of his palms against his eye sockets. He was every bit the lech that his family seemed to think he was.
But even that knowledge didnt take him back inside the house. No, he propped his feet back on the rail and continued watching Hope. If the way she kept sneaking looks back toward the house now and again was any indication, she was doing some of her own watching, too.
I thought I saw you driving a green car yesterday.
Hope whirled around at the voice behind her. She was waiting in the kitchen of the ranch house for her ride back to Weaver. By the time shed shepherded the girls back to the big house, the shower guests had departed. Thats what she got for letting the little ones talk her into walking all over creationand the Double-C had plenty of interesting places to explore.
Now, Tristan was looking at her with his incredible eyes, waiting for an answer and she wished, cowardly, that the children were still with her instead of their parents.
Yes, I have a car, she admitted. But I rode out here with Dr. Rebecca.
And where is Dr. Rebecca now?
Hope curled her fingers over the back of one of the chairs at the enormous oval table that sat in the center of the big kitchen. She was called away on a house call.
So you need a ride home, then.
Jaimie is going to drive me.
Jaimie drives like a bat out of hell. Ill take you.
Hopes stomach jolted. He was far more harmless when he was sleeping. When he was wide awake and watching her from beneath heavy lids, he was totally devastating. Totally daunting. Why would he offer to drive her? It wasnt as if she was of interest to him. Jaimie has already offered.
You really prefer to ride with the speed demon?
Hope swallowed. I
Stop tormenting our guest, Jaimie chided sailing into the kitchen and poking her brother-in-law in the back. And I havent gotten a speeding ticket in months.
Thats cause your daughter calls the sheriff uncle, Tris countered dryly. I want to go by and see Drew Taggart anyway. Theres no point in all of us driving into town.
Hope folded her hands together and wished shed driven herself. But Jaimie looked her way, eyebrows lifting. And Hope forced herself to shrug as if it didnt matter in the least how she got back home.
So she found herself sitting beside him in the close confines of his rental car as he drove along the gravel drive toward the main gate of his familys ranch. With each vibrating turn of the tires, Hope felt herself growing more uncomfortable. She was wrinkled and sweaty and her unmanageable hair was working loose from its ordinarily tidy braid. He, on the other hand, made his faded jeans seem like a sinful sight; and she swore she could still smell the freshness of his shower on that golden skin.
She stared out the window and banished thoughts of Tristan and showers.
He hadnt turned on the radio. It was just the two of them and the sound of the tires. And Hope felt more tongue-tied than shed ever felt in her life.
Considering shed spent most of her life tongue-tied, that was quite a feat.
Would you like to grab some dinner?
She turned and looked at him, her lips parting soundlessly.
Is that a yes or a no?
He wasnt asking her for dinner. He couldnt be. Why would he? He was only driving her home because hed been going by to see Drew anyway. I dontah, no. Thank you.
Why?
She stared fixedly out at the passing landscape. Excuse me?
Why wont you have dinner with me? We could grab a steak at Colbys.
Why? She glanced at him long enough to see the corner of his lips deepen.
That was my question.
She folded her arms. She didnt like being teased. I have plans.
Big date?
Her cheeks burned. Is that so hard to believe?
He smiled faintly. Not at all.
It ought to be, she thought silently. The last time Hope had been on a date, shed still been in college. And she may have entertained thoughts of agreeing if Larry Pope asked her out again, but that occasion hadnt actually occurred. I have to wash my hair.
He raised his eyebrows. In other words, youre not interested.
No, she blurted. I mean, II do have to wash my hair. Church is tomorrow.
His smile widened wryly. Naturally. Its been a while since Ive been thrown over for shampoo and conditioner.
Hope closed her eyes and wished for the drive to be over.
When they finally entered the official outskirts of town, Hope started to tell him where she lived, but without any prompting at all, he drove straight to the cozy little house she rented across the street from the park and the high school.
Sawyer told me, he said, as he parked in her narrow driveway.
Hope shoved open the car door, just glad to be home and certainly not willing to wonder why Tristan and his brother had even discussed the whereabouts of her home, but Tristan caught her arm before she could escape. Her throat tightened and she looked over her shoulder at him. I appreciate the ride.
Because he couldnt help himself, Tris looked into her eyes.
They were the purest violet hed ever seen, so dark he could barely distinguish the pupil from the iris. And the whites were whiter than any white that had ever existed. Annoyance and amazement churned inside him. A few days dalliance with this girl-woman was out of the question. He knew it. So why did he ask her for dinner? And why did it bug him to his core that shed refused? Eyes as clear as yours just dont exist, he murmured.
Her eyebrows popped up. Excuse me?
Ill bet youve never had a hangover. Never crossed the street against the light. Never stayed up later than you should.
Color suffused her cheeks. I have been to college.
Sweet pea, compared to the places Ive been, that doesnt mean diddly. His voice lowered. Never had an impure thought.
Her eyes flickered and she hurriedly climbed from the car. Her thick braid bounced in counterpoint to her hasty steps as she walked away from him.
Let her go.
He swallowed an oath along with the common sense that told him to leave well enough alone. He caught up to her as she pushed open the front door of her little white house. The place was as neat and tidy as she was, with precise rows of summer flowers in the beds lining the sidewalk. He closed his hand around her elbow, pulling her up short before she could shut the door in his face.
Wait.
Her chin tilted, but her eyes wouldnt meet his.
Why? So you can make fun of me some more?
I wasnt.
She didnt answer. The way her soft lips twisted was answer enough.
He frowned. The bones in her elbow felt fragile. He slid his hand up her arm, curving around the taut flesh, feeling the flex of healthy muscle. Of skin that was smooth as satin against his fingertips. I have to go back to Paris after the wedding.
She blinked. Hesitated. Congratulations.
Its business, he dismissed. I travel a lot. Too much, he thought vaguely. Im not going to be here for long. Why wont you have dinner with me? Im harmless.
Hopes lips parted and she looked down at his fingers circling her arm. Harmless? Hardly. This man was built for harm. Harm of the heart. I dont
Want steak. Thats okay. Pizza, then.
Why are you doing this?
Mans gotta eat. He didnt smile. Womans gotta eat, too. Whats your favorite food?
She frowned. Chinese. I dont
Wed have to drive a ways to get that.
His thumb swirled against her arm. She looked up at him. Tristan
Maybe I like the way you say my name.
Her throat knotted. Shivers crept down her spine and broke out on her arm where he would surely feel them. He probably thought she was insane standing there shivering in the warm early evening. Im a mess from this afternoon, she whispered thoughtlessly.
Tris looked at her lips. They were perfectly sculpted, impossibly soft-looking. Everything about her was soft. Her voice, her eyes, her skin. Take a shower, he murmured. Ill wash your back. He wasnt entirely joking, he realized. But he grinned, trying to look harmless despite his thoughts which were miles away from harmless.
Colbys, she said abruptly, tugging her arm out of his grasp. Itll be a zoo at the pizza place. Ill meet you there in a half hour. Then she hastily stepped into the house and shut the door right in his face.
Tris stared at the closed door. Ill be damned, he murmured. Then he laughed softly, feeling better than he had in weeks, and turned around on her postage-stamp-sized porch. Across the street, the park stretched out, vibrantly green. The high school looked the same as always. And down the street and around the corner was the old elementary school. Where, among her students, shy Hope would laugh and smile and teach.
Too bad hed be long gone from Weaver by then. Hed have enjoyed seeing Hope in her element.
Hed just have to figure a way in the next few days to get her to look him in the eye with those incredible eyes of hers. To scale that mile-high shyness of hers so that when he kissed herhe wasnt sure when hed decided it was something he was going to doshe wouldnt run away.
Shed kiss him back.
The kiss was definitely something he looked forward to. Probably more than was good for either of them. But it would be just a kiss. What would be the harm in that?
Chapter Three
Would you like wine?
Beneath the cover of the varnished wood table top, Hopes fingers twisted together. No, thank you. She didnt drink. Hadnt ever had a hangover, just as hed said earlier.
She watched Tristan, who sat across from her in the dimly lit booth. He showed no surprise that shed declined the drink. Of course he wasnt surprised.
The only surprise was that she was sitting here in Colbys, which served food but which everyone still considered a bar, with Tristan Clay. Hope had been to Colbys dozens of times in her lifetime. Never once had the booths seemed so cramped. So shadowy. So intimate.
Tristan was reading the menu he held open between his hands. His fingers idly tapped the corner of the padded vinyl folder and Hope closed her eyes for a moment before focusing on her own menu. She shifted and her knee bumped something solid and immovable beneath the table. It wasnt the table. It was him. She quickly angled her knees away from his and stared blindly at the menu. What was she doing here?
Decided yet?
She looked up as Tristan closed his menu and sat back in the booth. Excuse me?
His eyebrow peaked. Do you know what you want to order?
She nodded and shut her menu with a snap. She didnt. But she wasnt going to sit there like an idiot staring at words that her distracted mind wouldnt read. She chewed at the inside of her lip. Rearranged her flatware and drained her water glass.
He closed the menu and set it to the side of the table, folding his arms over the surface of the table. He seemed suddenly to loom over her from his side, but the portion of her brain that still functioned knew it only seemed that way because he was so tall and his shoulders so wide that he easily filled more than half of the bench on his side of the booth.
A fact that did nothing to prevent her from pressing her spine more firmly against the seat behind her. Or from reaching for the chain at her throat and running an inch of it back and forth between her thumb and forefinger.
His gaze was unwavering, but she was certain that he wanted to smile. She felt her entire body go hot with embarrassment. She dropped her hand to her lap.
She wished that Newt Rasmusson, the owner of the place, would hurry up and take their ordersdespite the fact that she didnt know what she wantedso at least that interruption would draw Tristans focus away from her.
Want to dance?
The jangle that shot through her was not a leaping, internal YES! It simply wasnt. No one is dancing, she pointed out faintly. Her fingers sought the chain necklace once again.
So?
Theres no music.
He glanced down at the table. If you dont want to, Hope, just say so.
I didnt mean
His lashes lifted and she saw, then, the amusement there. Her lips tightened and she angled her chin up a notch. She gathered up her purse and started to slide from the bench. No matter how breathless she became just from looking at him, she wasnt going to sit there and be his evenings entertainment. Hed already found more than enough about her to tease. This was a bad idea, she said aloud. Her voice shook, but at least shed spoken up. Thank you for the ride back to town earlier.
Without looking his way, she hurried toward the entrance, bumping her hip against an empty table as she went. She tugged the strap of her shoulder bag higher on her shoulder and blinked rapidly. She pushed through the door, nearly crying with relief when she made it out onto the street without embarrassing herself even more than she already had.
Though how that would be possible, she couldnt be sure. Idiot, she muttered under her breath. She drew in a long breath and started down the street in the direction of her house. It wouldnt take but a few minutes to walk. No longer than it would have taken her to walk to Colbys in the first place if Tristan hadnt been sitting on her little porch when she came out, ready to drive them despite her assertion that shed meet him there.
I guess you werent hungry, after all.
She whirled, her braid flying. Her lips parted, but no words came. And that frustrated her even more. She shook her head and turned again, but Tristan caught her arm. His fingers circled her elbow; not tightly, but with enough insistence that she stopped again. Or maybe it was the tingling heat spreading out from her elbow along the rest of her arm. Her voice broke free. Tristan, dont.
He stepped in front of her, oblivious to the two cars that slowly drove down the main street. His shoulders blocked the red glow of the setting sun. Am I so objectionable that you couldnt stand one more minute of my company?
Her fingers curled around her purse strap. I dont like being laughed at.
Nobody does, sweet pea. He let go of her elbow and brushed his thumb over her white knuckles. The only one I was laughing at was myself, he said quietly. Please. Come back in and have dinner with me. I wont ask you to dance if you dont want me to, but I cant promise not to try talking you into a game of pool.
She didnt want to be charmed by him, knowing how easily he could accomplish it. Was accomplishing it. What about Drew Taggart? she asked, faintly desperate.
What about him?
You wanted to look him up.
Ill catch up to him later. Theres plenty of time.
But you told Jaimie
Youd have been racing down the road with her at the wheel if Id just told you, flat out, what my reasons were for offering you that ride.
He didnt wear boots like most of the men in Weaver did. Not cowboy boots nor heavy work boots. He wore scuffed athletic shoes. She stared at them so fiercely that she spotted the tiny place at the toe of one shoe where the leather had begun to wear through. And what were they? These reasons that would terrify me so?
Ill tell you, but you have to look at me first.
Her cheeks heated. She darted a look into his face.
He tsked, and she jumped when he tucked his knuckles under her chin and lifted it. Nervousness knotted in her chest. Im looking at you.
At my chin, he murmured. He touched the nose piece of her glasses, inching them back up her nose, and surprise lifted her gaze to his for the briefest of moments.
But it was long enough for her to be caught, unable to pull her gaze from his. They were so blue, his eyes. As if a midnight sky had been trapped in his irises. She suddenly felt warm, her senses trapped in some odd time warp where everything moved slowly. She didnt even blink when he took a step closer, wrapping his other hand around her free elbow. Her hands brushed his hips and she pulled them back, clasping them together against her chest.
Thats why, he murmured.
His thumb was doing that maddening swirl-thing on her elbow. I d-dont know.
Yes, you do, Hope.
No
Dont be afraid of me.
Imnot. She swallowed. Im not.
Youre trembling.
I
So am I.
Stop this. Youre making fun. You told your brother you werent interested in me. I overheard you.
Im interested all right, he murmured.
She shook her head abruptly. Her protest was as ineffectual as her mushy resistance when he drew his fingertips along her forearms, capturing her hands. He pressed her palms to his chest. And, oh God, she felt his heart. Thundering through the fine cotton of his Hawaiian print shirt as fiercely as her own heart pounded.
Youre doing that to me, sweet pea. His soft words stirred the loose tendrils of hair at her temples. You have been since the coffee in the caf. Maybe I didnt see that it was any of my brothers business, but that doesnt mean its not so.
No.
Yes. Thats why I was laughing at myself. I come home expecting nothing but enduring my old mans long-awaited wedding, and find myself meeting a teacher whose violet eyes could make me forget my own name.
She felt his breath on her forehead, then closed her eyes and held back a gasp when his warm lips touched her temple. Her fingers curled against his chest, grabbing loose fabric. Were standing on Main Street.
His jaw grazed hers, then he lifted his head, untangling her fingers from his shirt front. If it bothers you, come back inside with me and have dinner.
You said you were harmless. I knew you were lying. She frowned as another car pulled along the street and turned into the parking lot behind her. What do you want with me?
He laughed abruptly. Are you kidding?
You used to date Serena Stevenson. She pushed out the words.
His eyes narrowed. So? It was a long time ago.
Shes a famous model!
Who is now happily married with two kids, neither of whom are mine, thank the good Lord. Whats your point?
My face has never stopped traffic.
Thats because youve probably always been in Weaver where there is no traffic. He let go of her hands and took a step back. The cool fingers of the evening air slipped between them and Hope shivered.
She hadnt always been in Weaver and she knew good and well that guys who looked this good didnt seek out Hope Leoni because of her physical attributes. Only she couldnt for the life of her think what Tristan hoped to gain by pursuing this.
Which brought her squarely back to the assumption that he was merely amusing himself. His heart may have seemed to thunder in tempo with hers. But in all likelihood it had just been her muddled senses. Which were quickly clearing again, thank goodness.
I think you should go see Drew, Hope suggested. He and Jolie are building a place a few minutes outside of town. I watch their little boy on
Good evening, Hope. Tristan. Id heard you were back. For the wedding, I presume?
Hope looked desperately at the sidewalk underneath her feet, wishing it would open up and swallow her. But it stayed dismayingly solid. She wrapped her hands once more around her purse strap and turned around to face Bennett Ludlow, the head of the school board. The man had left his parked car and stood on the sidewalk behind them.
Yes, Tristan said abruptly, barely sparing the other man a glance. Ill drive you home, Hope.
His hand touched the small of her back, igniting a warm, melting glow.
You mean you two were here together? Bennetts white teeth smiled, but Hope knew the older man too well not to see the wheels clicking inside his brain. He was undoubtedly wondering the same thing Hope was. Why?
Not really, Hope answered quickly. And I think Ill walk home. Its such a lovely evening. She didnt dare look up into Tristans face again. Every time she looked into his eyes, her sensible brain simply ground to a halt. And the last thing she needed was to look as muddled as she felt with Bennett there to witness it.
She wondered if shed ever be able to forget that shed been hired last year as a last resort because no other more qualified teacher had been available.
She smiled vaguely at both men and hurried across the street.
Shes not your usual type, is she, old boy?
Irritation bubbled beneath Tristans calm as he watched Hope reach the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He looked at Bennett. The attorney was as much a part of Weaver and the surrounding community as the Clays. More so than Tris, in fact. Because Bennett had returned to Weaver after college and Tris had not. Not that theyd ever had a lot to do with each other since Bennett was more Sawyers age than Tristans. Should I be flattered you think you know my type, Bennett? he asked lazily. Didnt think you cared.
Bennetts face tightened. Before they moved away from Weaver, Gerri and Justine Leoni always were after a nice meal ticket, but Id hoped that Hope had more sense than her mother and
Go on inside and enjoy a steak, Tris smoothly interrupted. Double-C beef, you know, he added as he started after Hope. Cant be beat.
Certainly not by the failing spread that Bennetts parents had once run, long ago. Theyd sold out to the Double-C more than twenty years earlier. As far as Tris knew, Bennett had hated the Clays ever since. And though Tris didnt give two hoots and a holler what Bennett thought or said about them, having that cap-toothed blowhard look down his nose at the LeonisHope in particularwas more than Tris could stand.
Hope. She was running away from him like the dogs of hell were at her heels. He wasnt so conceited that he believed all women found him irresistible. But he was wholly aware that Hope felt the same drugging attraction that he did, whether she admitted it or not.
He wanted her. Badly.
Seducing virgins was the one thing over which Tris drew the line. But a kiss was not a seduction.
He wanted to kiss her, and he knew she wanted it, too. But what had him going after her now was not the irrefutable urge to taste her lips, but the hurt in her eyes she hadnt been able to hide.
He quickened his step and caught up with her just as she was turning the corner toward her house. The hem of her white and purple flowered dress flared out behind her.
Hold up there, sweet pea.
She looked over her shoulder once, but kept walking.
He swore silently and lengthened his stride, stepping in her path. She sidestepped, but he wasnt dancing. He closed his hands over her shoulder and she stopped cold. His gut tightened even more at the silvery trail wending its way down her sculpted cheekbones. Im sorry.
Her chin angled. Dont flatter yourself.
He thumbed away a tear drop. What are they for?
My shoes are pinching my feet, she said flatly. Red color flooded her cheeks.
Little liar. He hoped she never played poker. That milky pale skin of hers would give her away every time. He looked down at the confection of narrow straps and tiny heels gracing her feet. They were shamelessly feminine, sexy shoes and not at all what hed expect her to wear with that ill-fitting sack of a dress. He crouched down, circling her ankle with his palm.
What are you doing? She pressed her palm to his shoulder, but he still managed to lift her foot and slide off the supposedly offending shoe. That was the nice thing about the element of surprise. He confiscated the other shoe, too, then swept her up into his arms.
She gasped, her eyes as wide as a childs. What are you doing?
Its my fault your feet are hurting, he explained reasonably, looking down into her shocked face. I said Id give you a lift.
A ride, she sputtered faintly.
He shrugged and turned up her street. He didnt dare think about how comfortable she felt in his arms, even squirming and kicking her legs the way she was. Whats the difference?
Well, one is in a car, she hissed. Put me down before someone sees usoh, fabulous.
Hope? Is everything all right here?
Hope smiled back at the openly curious question issued from a very pregnant woman who was watering a row of flowers in her yard. Tris noticed, however, that Hopes smile was frantic around the edges. How are you feeling, Brenda? Your baby should be here any day now, right?
Next week, the other woman said. Her eyes were suspicious. You sure youre okay?
Shes fine, Tris said easily. Stepped on a stone. He kept right on walking.
Even though he held Hope squarely in his arms, he could feel her straining as if to reduce the contact between their bodies. Brenda Wyatt is one of the biggest gossips in the county, she muttered. Shes probably already heading to her phone to spread the word.
Tris cut across the corner of Hopes green lawn and carried her up the steps. A glance over his shoulder told him that Hope was probably right. Brenda-the-Blab was gone, and the screen door at the front of her house was swinging in the faint breeze because it hadnt caught the latch. People in this town have always gossiped.
Yes, Hope agreed tightly. And half the time its been about one of the infamous Leoni women, whether it was my mother or my sister. She leaned over and pushed open her front door. Put me down.
Tris turned sideways and carried her into her living room. The furnishings were as uncomplicated as hed expected: long lines and soft pillows, all in soft colors that reminded him of deliciously cool ice cream cones. The only gossip I ever heard about your mother or your sister was that they were beautiful. He settled her on the couch where an enormous orange cat slept in a ball. There. Youre down.
They were beautiful. Justine is beautiful. Shes the kind of woman you should take out for steak.
How is Justine, anyway? I havent seen her in years. What he remembered about Justine was that shed been, well, popular was the polite term. Before Justine and her mother had left town, shed been ahead of him in school several years, but that hadnt meant that Tris hadnt appreciated her sultry appeal.
Shes in Washington State, now.
Married?
Three times. And the people of this town thought shed never find a husband with her wild, wicked ways, Hope quipped, but the sarcastic tone failed and she just sounded defensive. Of course, shes divorcing number three, so maybe they had a point.
Tris sat on the couch, too, and Hope popped up like a golden-crisp slice of bread flying out of a toaster. He stretch his legs comfortably. What does she do there?
She works in a bank. We dont talk much. Shes older than you are. Hope had walked across the floor to look through the sheer, butter-yellow curtains that covered the big picture window overlooking her front yard. Oh, nuts. She abruptly turned away from the window, drawing her eyebrows together.
Whats wrong?
She shook her head and turned on the floor lamp that stood near the window. Bright light flooded the room, banishing the lengthening shadows. Gram is driving up.
Ruby? I havent seen her in ages.
Hope glared at his left ear. You dont understand at all, do you?
Whatever was turning Hopes eyes to panic, he couldnt guess. But he understood all too well that the light was shining from behind Hope, turning her white sack dress with the tiny purple flowers into a translucent sack, barely veiling the long legs and hourglass curves beneath.
He ordered his heart to start beating again and inhaled slowly.
Hopes wiry grandmother walked right into the house without knocking. Her sharp eyes focused on Tris, then turned to Hope. But that one look left him feeling like he was fifteen again and had been caught making out with Suzette Lipton in the alley behind Rubys Caf. He was relieved he was sitting on the couch with the distance of the entire living room between him and Hope.
Ive had five calls at the caf, young lady, Ruby said briskly, all wanting to impart the news that my granddaughter was seen dancing down the middle of the streets with him. Now, I want to know what is going on!
Tris laughed abruptly, which earned him another stern look from Ruby. He waited for Hope to explain, to defend herself, to tell her grandmother she was a grown woman who could do what she wanted if she chose, but Hope said nothing. She just stood there, looking at her grandmother with dismay emanating from every pore.
He rose and joined Hope, automatically sliding an arm around her shoulders, instinctively trying to support her. To alleviate the expression of dread darkening her eyes. I carried her from the corner to this house, he said evenly. Her feet were hurting her. Hed never felt strongly about explaining himself, and he didnt, even now. But he really hated the look on Hopes face. Really, really hated it.
It wasnt a comfortable realization. Because Tris never hated anything. He never hated and he never loved. He never felt that strongly one way or the other about anything. Except, maybe, his work. He was certainly a believer of the passion of the body, but he left all that passion of the heart to others.
Rubys lips tightened. She propped her aging hands on her hips and ignored Tris. Hope, you know how people in this town talk. Why would you do such a thingright out in the street like that?
Ruby, Tris interrupted. He knew good and well that Hopes feet had been just fine. Forget about it. Theres no harm done.
Hope shook her head and turned away from her grandmother, pulling away from the arm that Tristan had tucked disturbingly around her shoulder.
Young man, Ruby said sternly, have you been gone from this town for so long youve forgotten how it operates? The only thing my granddaughter has is her reputation, and you come blowing into town for a few minutes of entertainment and destroy it without blinking.
Gram! Hope fastened her hands around her grandmothers arm and tugged her gently to the door. Tristan was only beingkind, she said. But hes going home, now. So you can go back to the caf and tell everyone that nothing is going on.
Hope, youre so innocent, girl. You wouldnt know a wolf in sheeps clothing if he bit you on the nose.
Gram! She couldnt bring herself to look at Tristan. She pulled her grandmother out the front door. You are embarrassing me, she whispered under her breath.
Everyone knows he lives in the fast lanehas ever since he earned all that money making fancy computer things, her grandmother said sternly. If youre not careful he could take advantage of you just the way Justine and Gerri were.
Tristan Clays not the least bit interested in me that way.
Ha! Ruby headed down the path. Open your eyes, girl. That man has got one thing on his mind, and sore feet is not it!
Hope groaned and turned toward the door. She chewed the inside of her lip and prayed fervently that Tristan hadnt been able to hear her grandmothers outlandish worries.
She reached for the screen door and pulled it open, catching her breath when Tristan stepped right in front of her. Her fingers clenched over the door handle.
Your grandmother is right. His face was hard, his jaw tight. And there was no trace of amusement in his heavy-lidded blue gaze. None at all. Im not interested in sore feet.
Tristan, please. My grandmother is being ridiculous, I know that. I know you dont feel that way about
I didnt say I didnt want to have you in my bed, Hope. I do. But no matter how much I want that, sweet pea, I dont intend todeflower you. Youre safe from me.
Chapter Four
Nothing was going right today.
Hopes blow dryer blew a gasket or something, which meant that her hair was wet when she twisted it into a knot at the back of her head. She knew it looked even more unappealing than usual.
Of course, if shed stuck to her guns the evening before and refused to join Tristan for dinner, Hopes hair would have been dry by the time she needed to leave for Sunday worship.
Even afterward, if she hadnt spent half the night swinging on a pendulum, she would have tended to business. But no, shed paced around her small house, feeling astonishment. Shed rearranged her living room furniture twice, feeling disbelief. Shed yanked weeds under the moonlight in her backyard, feeling a fearful excitement.
So, her house was spotless, her furniture ended up right where it had been when shed started and her garden was immaculate. But her hair was still a mess until morning.
Now, it was a wet, albeit clean, mess.
After the blow dryer had died, her ironapparently sympathetic to the dryerhad shorted out, too. Her cotton dress was still presentable. Barely. Having to chase after Simon, her cat, at the last minute hadnt helped the dress. Shed been hot and frustrated by the time she finally coaxed him out from the bushes where he liked to hide.
At least shed caught him before hed prowled down to Brenda Wyatts house. Brendas husband hated cats, and Hope wasnt sure if her runaway cat would escape unscathed the next time he was caught eating Brendas nasturtiums.
She could have driven her little car to church, but she knew there would be no parking left. And now, by the time shed cut through the neighborhood and walked up the front steps of the church, she could hear the congregation inside already singing and she quietly slipped into the empty pew in the rear, fumbling a hymnal out of the rack. She dropped it and it thudded loudly on the floor just as the music ended.
It seemed as if half the town turned to look and see whod made the racket. She smiled weakly and sat, feeling around with her hand for the hymnal, but it seemed to have scooted up under the pew ahead of her.
She still felt eyes watching her, and she wished that shed just taken the hint when the dryer died and stayed home.
Except if she hadnt shown up at church the way she had done every Sunday of every month of every year shed lived in Weaver, shed have ten people trooping by her house later to find out why.
After shed come down with the flu last year when Ruby was in Washington visiting Justine, Hopes visitors had brought homemade soup and fresh flowers and crossword puzzles. She didnt think having visitors this time would be such a blessing.
The hairs on her neck prickled.
She blinked and saw Jolie staring at her pointedly from her seat on the aisle a few pews ahead. Hope frowned, shaking her head slightly.
Jolie rolled her eyes and subtly jabbed her thumb out. Hope followed the direction and stared, stunned at the sight of Tristan sitting there in church. There was no mistaking the back of his head; shed never known anyone with hair that brilliantly golden.
She hurriedly closed her mouth and glanced at Jolie. Her friend was smiling, knowingly. Hope frowned at her, hoping Jolie could read her expression that there was no earthly reason to connect Hope with Tristans once-in-a-blue-moon appearance at worship.
Feet shuffled and Hope dragged her attention to the service, as she stood with the rest of the congregation and read the gospel lesson. But her mind wasnt on the words. It was on the man three rows ahead of her.
When the service was winding down nearly an hour later, Hopes attention still remained on Tristan. He hadnt turned around once to see her, and she told herself that she was relieved.
But she was sitting in church, and the lie tore at her. When the congregation rose once again to sing the last hymn, Hope quietly backed out of the church. If she ended up with calls from Gram and others that afternoon, it would be better than standing there visiting after the service, pretending that she didnt care two hoots that Tristan was around.
She pressed her hand to her forehead. She was a blooming fool, thats what she was. Creating ridiculous fantasies in her head.
Standing just outside the church doors, Tris watched Hope scurry away. It was definitely becoming too familiar a sight, he decided. He stopped and greeted the minister briefly, complimenting the man on his sermon even though he wouldve been pressed to recall the topic. Hed been too preoccupied with the young woman whod sneaked in late to sit a few rows behind him.
Guess no good deed goes unpunished, Sawyer said softly, mockingly, behind him.
Tris slid his sunglasses on and ignored his brother. So what if hed come to church only in the hopes of catching Hope for a minute or two? What was more above-board than running into each other at church?
Tristan, youre welcome to join us for dinner this afternoon, said Rebecca, repeating the invitation that hed already declined once. I know Ryan wants to have a chance to talk your ear off about his new computer.
Tris tugged on the bill of Ryans ball cap. Maybe later. But dont hold up the meal if I dont show.
Ryan grinned and darted off to join his friend. Sawyer slid his arm around Rebeccas shoulders and snorted softly. Tris, if your rental car is seen in town anywhere this afternoon other than at our place, the remaining half of this town that hasnt been talking about your stroll down the street with Hope yesterday, will be. Leave her alone.
Sawyer, dont pick on Tristan like that.
Hes a big boy, Bec, and you dont know what hes like with women.
Tristans good humor was fading fast. And youre so sure you know? he asked Sawyer. I thought you were a big believer in the innocent-til-proven theory.
You havent been innocent since you were fifteen, Sawyer replied dryly. Youre gonna do what youre gonna do no matter what anyone says. Justremember where you are.
Rebecca was making a face. Sawyers a fine one to talk. She stretched up and kissed Tristans cheek. Maybe well see you later, she said calmly, then looked at her husband. Ryan is going home with Eric for a while, she said softly.
Despite his annoyance, Tris felt a smile tug at him as Sawyer cast his wife a long look, then smiled slowly as they walked away. He pulled the car keys out of his pocket and started toward the small, still-congested lot. Most of the cars belonged to people whod driven in from the outlying areas, since the town itself was small enough to walk pretty well anywhere.
But, as he approached his car, he realized that a van parked crookedly in the lot was responsible for the holdup. He shook his head faintly and cut between two pickups. He wanted to go by Hopes place. Maybe he could talk her into going for a drive. They could invite Drew and his wife if it would put Hope more at ease. He knew she and Jolie were friends
Mr. Clay, is it true that you and Ms. Leoni are living together?
He jerked around, gravel grinding under his boot and came face-to-face with a microphone and an enormous camera. What the hell? The microphone shoved closer and he pushed it away. Get out of my face.
.
.
, (https://www.litres.ru/allison-leigh/married-to-a-stranger/) .
Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, , , , PayPal, WebMoney, ., QIWI , .