Читать книгу Texas Glory - Joan Elliott Pickart - Страница 10

One

Glory Carson leaned her head back and closed her eyes, telling herself to tune out the noise of the other passengers boarding the airplane.

Good grief, she thought, she was so exhausted she was nearly numb. The seminar in Austin for psychologists specializing in marriage counseling had been well attended, resulting in a constant cacophony of jarring voices. She’d had to be her professional best at all times, a constant smile in place, her interest in who was speaking to her at least appearing to be at the maximum.

It had been a productive weekend...she hoped. She’d pressed her business card into more hands than she could count, and been promised a half dozen referrals. All she could do now was wait and see if they materialized in her office.

Her speech had been well received, Glory mused foggily. The applause had been loud and long, and afterward the favorable comments were numerous.

All in all, she had no complaints about the way things had transpired in Austin, except for the fact that she was so tired she practically had to remind herself to inhale, then exhale.

Oh, what she would give for a bubble bath, then bed, and hours and hours of undisturbed, rejuvenating sleep.

Glory was vaguely aware of activity next to her, but she kept her eyes closed, assuming the passenger in the middle seat was settling in.

Fine, she thought. The sooner everyone got their bottoms planted, the quicker this plane could leave Austin and make the hour flight to Houston and home, and her waiting, welcoming bed.

“Where’s your seat belt?” a man with a rich, deep voice asked. “Oh, here it is. There you go, buddy. You’re all set. You sit there and behave like a good little guy. Okay? See? I’m right here next to you.”

Oh, dear, Glory thought, apparently she had been seated next to a father with a young son. She adored children, she really did, but she hoped to the heavens that this one was well behaved and quiet.

Moments later, as the airplane began to move, Glory allowed the rumble of the engines to drift over her senses like a comforting blanket. She was semiconscious of the pressure of liftoff, the plane tilting, then straightening again.

She was up among the peaceful clouds, she thought dreamily. It was a perfect place for a nap.

Glory gave way to blissful slumber.

Bram Bishop leaned slightly forward to get a better view of the woman in the seat next to the window.

Sleeping Beauty, he thought, just like in the fairy tale. Man, oh, man, she was one beautiful woman.

Her strawberry blond hair was swept away from her face to clearly display her delicate features. He couldn’t tell if her hair was just extremely short or if she had one of those bun gizmos.

Long lashes fanned her peaches-and-cream cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted, begging to be kissed.

The silky, rose-colored blouse she was wearing defined lush breasts, and her navy blue slacks gave evidence of gently sloping hips and long legs.

And there was no wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand.

“Want to trade seats?” Bram said to the traveling companion he’d boarded the plane with. Certainly not expecting a reply to his question, Bram frowned, grabbed a magazine from the pocket in front of him and settled back in his seat.

His lousy luck was running true to form, he thought. He was in close proximity to a gorgeous lady, and she was sound asleep! She was a captive audience for getting-to-know-you chit-chat during the hour flight, but was she smiling, eager to communicate? Hell, no.

Bram shook his head in frustration, flipped through the magazine, then jammed it back into place.

He was beginning to believe that he’d never find a wife, a woman to share his life, have their children, be the other half of his dream of forever love. He’d begun his quest to find the woman of his heart more months ago than he cared to count.

The decision to marry had been a mutually agreed-upon project with his brothers. Both Tux and Blue had done it, the lucky sons-of-guns. Tux had Nancy. Blue had Amy. They were couples. Husbands and wives.

And he, Bram Bishop, was still alone and, damn it, lonely, with no one even in the running as a candidate for his wife.

What was wrong with him? He was a nice guy, decent looking, and he had a prosperous construction company that was growing by leaps and bounds. He liked babies and puppies and had learned, at his mother’s knee, which fork to use and the importance of treating women with gentlemanly respect at all times.

When he was part of the swinging singles scene, he’d had women falling all over him. But ever since he’d decided he wanted to get married, that flock of females left a lot to be desired.

Bram sighed.

Well, he’d just have to hang in there, not give up, stay ever alert for a possible wife candidate. It sure as hell would help his cause, though, if pretty women like the one seated by the window would stay awake long enough for him to at least say hello.

Bram glanced up to see the flight attendant making her way slowly down the aisle. She was pushing a cart and distributing drinks and small packages of peanuts to the passengers.

Well now, he thought, opportunity was knocking. Sleeping Beauty was going to miss out on having a refreshing beverage if she continued to snooze.

The considerate thing for him to do would be to gently wake her and inquire if she was thirsty. She could always go back to sleep if she wasn’t interested in either a drink or in talking to him.

Good plan.

Except...

How did a man rouse a sleeping woman he didn’t know? What part of her delectable person should he touch to ensure she wouldn’t start hollering for the cops?

Bram unsnapped his seat belt and leaned forward to get a full view of the woman. Reaching across his companion in the middle seat, Bram tentatively pressed one fingertip on the lady’s knee.

Glory raised her lashes slowly, reluctantly, unaware she was turning her head to the side at the same time.

In the next instant her eyes flew wide open, and she stiffened. A scream began to build in her chest and work its way up to her throat, headed for her mouth.

She was staring at the biggest, stuffed toy panda she had ever seen.

“Oh, Lord,” Bram said, watching the reactions of the woman.

Without thinking it through, Bram clamped his hand over the woman’s mouth. She shifted her terrified eyes to his face

“Don’t scream,” Bram whispered. “Please, stay calm. I just thought you might want a cool drink. The flight attendant will be here in a couple of minutes. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Okay? Are you with me here?”

Flight attendant? Glory’s mind echoed frantically. Oh, yes, of course, the airplane, the flight home to Houston. Fine. She understood now.

What wasn’t fine, though, was that a strange man, albeit an incredibly handsome man, had his large hand over her mouth. Also not dandy was the fact that there was an enormous toy panda, with seat belt in place around its fat middle, sitting next to her.

Glory frowned. Bram removed his hand quickly from her mouth and produced his very best smile.

“Hi,” he said, “I’m Bram Bishop. I’m really sorry I startled you. I guess I should have let you sleep through refreshment time.”

Wrong, he thought. Sleeping Beauty awake was even more beautiful than Sleeping Beauty asleep. She had the most expressive green eyes he’d ever seen. They completed her lovely features to perfection.

“And you are?” Bram said pleasantly, raising his eyebrows.

“Not happy,” she said, glaring at him. “You scared me half to death. You can’t go around poking a woman’s knee. You’re going to end up in jail one of these days.”

“Oh,” he said. “I really am sorry. I was trying to be a nice guy. You know, didn’t want you to miss having a drink if you wanted one.”

“Mmm,” Glory said. She looked at the panda. “And what, or who, is that?”

Bram straightened slightly, patted the bear on the head and chuckled.

“Great bear, huh?” he said. “See, I was in Austin on business and my brother, Tux, telephoned me. Tux is a year older than I am. I have a twin brother named Blue, too. Blue and Amy were married last month.

“Anyway, Tux married Nancy about a year ago, and they just found out they’re going to have a baby. Tux was so excited he decided not to wait until I got home to tell me the big news.

“I read an article once that said newborn babies can decipher black and white from the time they’re born. So, when I saw the panda I knew it was the perfect gift for my niece or nephew.

“Of course, this is the middle of May and the baby isn’t due until Christmas but—” Bram shrugged “—it’s a terrific panda. Don’t you think so?”

Glory blinked, trying to digest all that Bram Bishop had said.

“You...you bought the panda a ticket on this flight?” she asked finally.

“Well, yeah,” Bram said, nodding. “I figured it would get really messed up if I sent it through with my luggage. Since it’s nearly five feet tall, it was too big for the overhead compartments, so I bought it a ticket for a seat of its own. Hey, this is a very important bear for a very special baby.”

“Right,” Glory said, eyeing him warily. “Well, one thing is clear. The baby is going to have an interesting uncle—to say the least.”

Before Bram could decide if he’d just been insulted, the flight attendant arrived with her offerings. Bram asked for a soft drink. Glory requested orange juice.

“Would your friend like anything?” the flight attendant asked Bram. She had a perfectly serious expression on her face as she nodded toward the panda. “A drink? Some peanut?”

“No, thanks,” Bram said. “He gets airsick if he eats or drinks during a flight.”

“Okeydokey,” the attendant said, then pushed the cart forward.

“The craziness is catching,” Glory muttered.

“I heard that,” Bram said, laughing.

Heavens, Glory thought, taking a sip of her juice, Bram Bishop had such a rich, rumbly, masculine laugh, that it had sent a shiver down her spine. He really was very good-looking. His features were rugged and tanned, his medium brown hair was sun streaked to nearly blond in places. And he had, without a doubt, the most beautiful, bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

Oh, yes, Bram Bishop was drop-dead gorgeous

He was also nuttier than a fruitcake.

He’d bought a plane ticket for a five-foot toy panda bear? Said bear being a gift for a baby who wasn’t due to be born until the end of the year?

That was definitely crazy.

Well, it was sweet, too, in all fairness. Bram Bishop and his brothers must be extremely fond of each other. That was nice. A close-knit family certainly wasn’t a given in today’s society.

“So!” Bram said, interrupting Glory’s thoughts. “I’ve introduced myself and my buddy here. It’s your turn. You are...?”

“Glory Carson,” she said, smiling.

Say, now, Bram thought, what a lovely smile Glory Carson had. It lit up her whole face and made those fascinating green eyes sparkle.

“That’s a pretty name,” he said. “Glory. I really like it.”

“Thank you.”

“So tell me, Ms. Glory Carson—it is Ms., isn’t it?”

“I’m not married,” she said.

She could, she supposed, correct Bram, tell him she was actually Dr. Carson, but she wasn’t in the mood to go into a lengthy explanation about her work, not after the weekend she’d just put in. She was having an hour’s flight worth of time-out.

“I’m single, too,” Bram said, then drained his cup. “That’s one thing we have in common already.”

Already? That was a red-alert word, Glory thought. Mr. Bram Bishop just might be starting his hustle, making his move, his come-on. Oh, this malarkey got so tiresome.

“That didn’t sound right,” Bram said, frowning. “My mouth got ahead of my mind. That ‘already’ was really tacky.”

“Oh,” Glory said, surprise evident on her face.

Bram smiled. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to get to know you better—talk, share, discover who you are. But I’m not assuming anything here.”

“That’s very refreshing,” Glory said, unable to keep from smiling.

“Let’s take it from the top,” Bram said. “Do you live in Houston?”

“Yes.”

Dynamite. “That’s good,” Bram said, nodding. “Next question. How long is your hair when it’s falling free?”

Glory frowned and finished her orange juice.

“Cancel refreshing,” she said. “What’s next? The spiel about wanting to see my hair spread out on your bed pillow? You need some new material, Mr. Bishop.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “Talk to your panda bear.”

No wonder he wasn’t married, Bram thought in self-disgust. He was an idiot. The thing was, he didn’t have any “material,” because he’d never needed it with women. He just said what was honestly on his mind. And since he was wondering how long Glory Carson’s hair was, he’d asked her.

Bram looked at the panda. “I blew it, buddy.”

“Indeed,” Glory said, not opening her eyes.

“Cups, please,” the flight attendant said, appearing next to Bram’s seat. “We’ll be landing in Houston very soon.”

Bram reached over and plucked the cup from Glory’s hand.

“There you go, darlin’,” he said to the attendant. “Listen, let me ask you something.”

“Yes, sir?”

“If a man you just met asked you how long your hair was when it wasn’t piled on your head, what would you do?”

“Slug him,” the flight attendant said.

“Thanks for sharing,” Bram said glumly.

“Glad to help,” the attendant said, moving on.

Glory had to quickly smother a bubble of laughter.

This really wasn’t funny, she told herself. Her merriment was probably the product of her bone-deep fatigue. But Bram had sounded like a dejected little boy who’d been told it wasn’t polite to ask for candy that hadn’t been offered to him.

He was an unusual man, this Bram Bishop. She’d expect someone with his looks and build to be smooth as molasses around women, having them fall all over him after one glimpse of that dazzling smile, that body and those gorgeous blue eyes.

Yet he seemed to be doing everything wrong, saying the worst things possible in a first-meeting scenario.

Wait a minute, Glory thought. The key word was seemed. It could very well be that Bram had perfected an aw-shucks-poor-me-I-screwed-up routine that resulted in women forgiving him a multitude of social sins.

. Oh, forget it. She didn’t have time for this nonsense. She’d be very glad when the plane landed and Bram exited with his silly panda.

Glory opened one eye just enough to look at the toy bear.

Then again, she mused, she had to give Bram credit for doing such a sweet—though ridiculous—thing as getting that toy for his brother’s baby-to-be, and actually buying an airplane ticket for the enormous bear so nothing would happen to it.

Stop it, she told herself, closing her eye again. Why was she wasting her precious time attempting to analyze the enigmatic Mr. Bishop? Enough was enough.

Glory directed her mind to go as blank as a television screen when the Off button was pushed. No matter how little time remained until the plane landed in Houston, every minute spent in a relaxed, nonthinking mode was beneficial for replenishing her energy supply.

Three minutes later she opened her eyes.

Darn it, she thought, she was becoming more tense by the second. She could no longer ignore the presence of the huge panda, or the man who had plunked it next to her.

She was just so aware of Bram Bishop sitting beyond the enormous toy. It was as though he was emanating a masculine current that crackled and hummed over and around her.

She somehow knew that he was sliding glances her way, scrutinizing her from head to toe. She could feel the heat radiating from Bram’s gorgeous blue eyes as his gaze touched her body, causing her skin to first tingle, then draw the warmth inward, deep and low

Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. But then again, she reasoned, she couldn’t remember ever being quite this exhausted. Of course. That had to be the answer to her overreaction to Bram’s blatant male sexuality. Her state of total fatigue.

But even though there was a reasonable explanation for her being flustered by Mr. Bishop, it was still disconcerting and definitely unacceptable.

Well, there was only one solution. Bram couldn’t sneak little peeks at her body if she was talking to him. She could keep those compelling, dangerous eyes of his centered on her face if she chatted with him

“So, Bram, what do you do in Houston?” Glory asked pleasantly.

Bram jerked in his seat at the sudden sound of Glory’s voice.

“When?” Bram asked, just as pleasantly.

Glory frowned. “When?”

“Yeah, you know, are you asking what I do for a living during the day? Or—” his voice seemed to drop an octave “—what I do at night in my private time? What hours exactly are you interested in?”

This had not been a good idea, Glory thought. Talking to Bram was not solving the problem of the strange heat swirling through her. He’d taken an ordinary what-do-you-think-of-the-weather type question and somehow turned it into a sensuous image-evoking event....

Bram Bishop at night, in a room glowing with candlelight. Tall, ruggedly handsome Bram, reaching out those powerful arms to draw a woman close and... A woman? Oh, why not.... Go for it, Glory. Bram pulling her into his embrace, pinning her in place with those blue, blue eyes, then slowly, tantalizingly lowering his head toward her lips and...

“Glory?”

“Who?” Glory blinked. “What?” She sighed. “Never mind. I’m really too tired for chit-chat, I guess. I apologize if I’ve been rude in any way, Bram. I’m not at my best, by any means. I’m going to shut up until we land. It was nice meeting you. Goodbye.”

“I own Bishop Construction,” Bram said quickly. “Would you like me to build you a house?” He smiled. “A patio? How about a gazebo? You strike me as the type of lady who would really enjoy a gazebo.”

“I do? I don’t think... No, I know, I’ve never sat in a gazebo.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I haven’t had the opportunity or the time, I guess.”

“Ms. Glory Carson, you should correct that as soon as possible.” Bram nodded decisively. “You’re definitely a gazebo person.

“Hey, don’t misunderstand me here. This isn’t a sales pitch to have you hire me to build you a gazebo. I simply picture you really liking one.

“Let’s see now,” Bram went on. “You’d wear a summer dress, one of those filmy, swishy things, and a wide-brimmed hat. Yes, that’s good. Don’t forget the hat. And—” he grinned “—your hair would be down, loose. Yep, that’s you, all right.”

It certainly was not, Glory thought. The verbal picture Bram was painting was of a woman with idle hours, who was whimsical and romantic. That definitely was not who Dr. Glory Carson was.

“Well,” she said, “if I ever decide to have a gazebo built, I’ll give you a call.”

“Speaking of calling,” Bram said, “I was wondering if you’d be comfortable giving me your telephone number so I could—”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the flight attendant said, “we’ll be landing in Houston in five minutes. Please be certain that your seat belts...”

Damn, Bram thought, tuning out the remainder of the attendant’s message. Glory had retreated behind the panda, was checking her seat belt and fiddling with her purse. There was a briefcase under the seat in front of her. Cripe, he hadn’t even found out what she did for a living.

Why had she been in Austin? What had she been doing to become so exhausted? Where did she live in Houston? What was her telephone number?

Who was Glory Carson?

If his brothers knew how badly he’d blown the opportunity to gather information about a possible wife candidate, they’d razz him from now until next Tuesday.

Well, all was not lost.

They still had to land, exit the plane and walk up the tunnel. Before he was separated from Glory in the crunch of people in the terminal, he was definitely going to find out how to contact her.

He had no intention of losing track of her, because he had every intention of seeing Ms. Glory Carson again.