The Bride Wore Blue Read Free Page A

implied was the suggestion that he could take care of Maggie’s crankiness, too—with a little special attention.
    “Believe me,” he added, all charm and choirboy innocence when she bristled, “she’s in much better shape than she looks. You, on the other hand…” He stopped, devouring her with his eyes again with a thoroughness that made her feel like she’d just been swallowed whole. “You look about as good as good can get.”
    And he looked incredible, she admitted reluctantly, still astonished as she pitted memory against the improbable reality of the present. Who’d have ever thought that the gangly combination of knees, elbows and Adam’s apple that was Blue Hazzard would have turned into this modelperfect specimen.
    With or without the smile, despite the arrogance, he was ruggedly handsome, strikingly blond. The dark tint of his skin—a rich, sun-baked bronze, unmistakably natural and a welcome change from the salon-bed tans she was used to seeing—told of his love of the outdoors. The length of his hair—unacceptable by boardroom standards yet styled beautifully by wind and weather into an artful and totally disarming disarray—told of his uncommon and unconscious disregard for the picture he made standing there.
    In a world—in her world, anyway—of fabricated beauty and augmented perfection, he was a rarity. The real thing, not the eight-by-ten glossy image produced and perfected by the masters of glitz for the high-ticket, high-profile business she was used to. And because he was so real, it was impossible not to appreciate the obvious: this man was all length, all strength, and all male.
    They’d love him in New York. They’d eat him alive. Or at least they’d try. Just like they’d tried with her, she thought grimly. Sometimes she wondered if they hadn’t succeeded.
    “What?” he asked, reacting to her distant, thoughtful look.
    Realizing he’d caught her staring, she shot him a tight smile, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I was just remembering, I guess. I still can’t believe it’s you. You…you were such a…”
    “Jerk?” he supplied with a helpful look, then followed up with a chuckle. The sound was as warm as the sun and as engaging as his smile, which was automatic and devastating. “Some say I still am.”
    “And are they right?”
    She wasn’t sure why she was letting him lead her into this wordplay. It was both unwarranted and untimely. She didn’t want to renew old acquaintances. She didn’t want to open the door and invite him in to even this little piece of her life. She didn’t even like him. At least she didn’t like the Blue Hazzard she remembered.
    “Are they right?” He echoed her question as he took a slow, purposeful step toward her. “I guess you’re going to have to tell me.” Cupping her shoulder in his huge, warm hands, he drew her unerringly toward him. “Because I’m about to put it to the test.
    “I’ve waited fifteen years for this, Stretch.” His face relayed a devastating combination of reflection, seduction and unshakable intent. “Fifteen years is a long time to make good on a promise.”
    Sensing what he was about to do, she felt helpless to back away from him—for reasons too numerous to catalog and impossible to understand. “Promise?” she whispered, riveted by the heat in his eyes and the sensual blend of strength and gentleness of his hold.
    “I promised myself that if I ever saw you again, I’d do what I ached to do back then but didn’t have the guts to pull off.”
    Before she could decide if she should be frightened, angry or excited, or all three, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Two
    H e didn’t give her the time to search for the strength of mind and body to stop this. He didn’t give her the option. As he dipped his head and his mouth sought hers, the thought did register that she shouldn’t be letting it happen. The warning bells rang and her fight-or-flight instincts surged to the surface only to sink in the