Kathryn Taylor - The Forbidden Bride-To-Be

The mention of his brother deflated some of the air from his ego. “He doesn’t ride. But don’t let that stop you.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Alex swallowed a chuckle. He would guess the lady did as she pleased. Not for the first time, he wondered why she had chosen to involve herself with Damon. “I wonder if my brother knows what he’s gotten himself into.”

“He should. I’ve known him for four years. We have an understanding.”

He arched his eyebrow. “What kind of understanding?”

“Obviously not the kind you’re thinking of.” She rolled her eyes. “We have different interests that we pursue separately.”

“That would explain why he’s at the country club playing racquetball while you’re here trying to incite a rebellion among my horses.”

Her soft exhale of laughter caressed his cheek. “I couldn’t interest them. They must like living with walls.”

“Which, I gather, you don’t?”

“I don’t have to, do I?”

“My brother seems to think you’re going to settle here after the wedding.” Her guilty expression was telling. He suspected that she and Damon hadn’t synchronized their stories.

She shrugged and raked a handful of curls from her face. “Actually, we didn’t discuss it. We haven’t had time to figure out our future yet.”

Nice recovery. She wouldn’t have to worry now if they contradicted each other. The woman was bright. He would have an easier time tripping up Damon. Something shady was going on and Alex meant to find out what before his conniving brother did any damage. Any more damage, he mentally corrected.

“Come on. I’ll take you up to the house so you can get something to eat. Samson ate your apple.”

“Samson and Delilah. That’s cute. What are the other two called?”

“Windancer,” he said, pointing to a jet-black Arabian. “And...Elvis.”

“Elvis,” she cried out, sending a sympathetic smile to the gelding. “Oh, the indignity of it all. No wonder he’s so shy.” Dramatic sighs and theatrical gestures punctuated her words.

“He was already named when I got him.”

“Poor thing.” She locked her fingers together behind her back and walked alongside Alex to the house. Darkness had descended and a starry landscape sparkled above.

“So, how did you and Damon meet?” he asked to break the silence.

“I worked for him at the restaurant while I was going to school. We remained good friends after he sold the place.”

Sold the place. Is that what Damon had told her? Alex opened the back door and waited for her to enter. “Have a seat. I’ll get you something—”

“No need.”

“Cook already made the plate. I’m just going to stick it in the microwave.”

“Yum. Radioactive food,” she muttered, and lowered herself into a chair at the drop-leaf table.

Alex put the covered plate in the oven and thanks to modern technology, served her a hot meal in mere minutes. After pouring two glasses of wine, he joined her at the table. “Go ahead. Eat.”

Sophie nodded her thanks and enthusiastically dug in. She polished off the veal and sautéed potatoes with a fervor that nearly rivaled her dancing. In his experience, most women became falsely modest when eating in front of a man. Sophie became downright sexy. Did she devote the same passion to every aspect of her life?

Alex swallowed a grunt. Thoughts like that would land him in trouble. “Damon tells me you have Gypsy blood.”

She put down her fork and knife. “Yes. And we’re notorious thieves, so you better hide the family silver.”

He thought perhaps he had insulted her, but when she glanced up, her eyes shone with mischievous humor. “I’m not worried. So, will you look into your crystal ball and tell me my future?”

“I don’t use a crystal ball, and I can’t see the future. But I sometimes get strong impressions about people.”

He leaned closer until his shoulder brushed hers. “What about me?”

She smiled and took his hand. Her sensual touch, as she stroked her thumb over his palm and wrist, sent his pulse racing. She inched closer until her leg made contact with his. Her delicate eyebrow raised in a perplexed arch. “I’m getting something.”

“What?”

During the long pause, she stared at him. She ran her tongue nervously over her full lips, leaving a glistening shine. He swallowed hard. She continued to caress his calloused flesh, sending jolting electrodes through his entire being. He shifted in the wooden chair to relieve the tightening in his groin.

Suddenly she dropped his hand, looking startled and gasping for breath. Her round emerald eyes, hypnotic, exotic and blatantly erotic, held him spellbound.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m getting a really strong impression...” She paused, and inhaled deeply. Her gaze locked with his. “That you’re patronizing me.”

He blinked slowly and let out a groan. Perhaps he had been humoring her, but she had paid him back with interest. She’d had him so mesmerized, she could have told him aliens were attacking and he would have believed her.

“All right. Let’s talk about something else.”

She lifted her wineglass toward him in a salute, then took a sip. “Should we play twenty questions?”

“How else will I get to know my future sister-in-law?”

“When do we get to the part about how I’m totally wrong for Damon?”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t?”

He believed Damon was wrong for her. Damon hadn’t grown up yet. And Alex wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if his brother had used his charm to convince Sophie to go through with the marriage just to get him to sell the house.

“I’m looking forward to your wedding.” He managed to say the words without gagging. “When are you going to set a date?”

Absently, she chewed her bottom lip and toyed with the gold chain around her neck. “Ah...um...”

“In this millennium or the next?”

“I’m only twenty-six. My biological clock isn’t ticking away. Besides, I haven’t even met his mother yet. She might want some input on the time and place.”

Alex tipped his head. “I’m sure Elaine will have something to say.”

“Is that a warning?”

“No.” He took a gulp of his wine.

“Damon said she’s anxious for grandchildren.”

Alex nearly choked. He slapped his hand to his chest. “Excuse me. Swallowed wrong.”

Elaine was about as anxious to be a grandmother as she was to get another wrinkle on her surgically lifted face. She didn’t even like to admit to having a thirty-year-old son.

Sophie collected her dishes from the table and loaded them into the dishwasher. “Thanks for dinner. I guess Damon and his mom will be late. I’m going to turn in.”

Alex rose and walked her to the staircase. Since she had spent most of the afternoon sleeping, he figured she wanted to avoid him. Apparently his comments and questions were in contrast to what Damon had told her. Why would his brother lie to his fiancée? Or, more important, to his accomplice?

“Good night,” she called over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs.

Once she reached the top landing, Sophie darted down the hall to her room. Damn Damon and the awkward position he had put her in! She let out a groan. Face it, Sophie. You’re the one who’s pretending to be somebody you’re not.

Perhaps a look into the cards would help, she decided, as she reached for the silk pouch on the dresser. She untied the ribbon and removed her tarot cards. Her mother had presented her with the deck on her eighteenth birthday. A piece of her past to guide her future. While she absently shuffled, she tried to formulate a question in her mind.

Do I have reason to worry about my actions?