Читать книгу Cowboy's Baby - Victoria Pade - Страница 9

Everyone in the living room was laughing when Kate finally ventured back there. She was only guessing, but she assumed they were laughing at something Brady had said. He could tell a joke as well as any professional comedian, which had made him the life of the party the whole time they’d all been in Las Vegas two months before.

Her family was so caught up in him, in fact, that no one noticed her standing in the arched entry from the foyer, and it gave her a chance to take a look at him.

How could he be more handsome than she remembered?

But he was.

He was as tall as her brothers—at least six foot three. A tower of long legs, narrow hips, flat stomach, wide chest, broad shoulders and big biceps.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, but there were muscles galore. Muscles his clothes couldn’t hide. Especially since he was wearing jeans tight enough to show off his great thighs, and a long-sleeved knit shirt that hugged his perfectly veed torso like shrink-wrap.

And as if the body wasn’t enough to give her heart palpitations, he had a face to die for, too.

He had swarthy good looks. His hair was the color of French roast coffee beans—not quite coal-black but close. He wore it just a touch long and combed it with a hint of a part on the right side, sweeping all of it casually away from his face.

His skin had a natural tan to it, a golden glow that would brown up in the summer but merely gave him the look of robust health and vitality now.

And there were his features to top it all off.

Oh, he was gorgeous!

But not pretty-boy cute. He had a masculine, rugged, almost craggy kind of beauty that said he was born that way and didn’t do anything to accentuate it.

His chin was strong and well defined, his lips turned up at the corners as if he were in perpetual good humor. His nose was straight and perfect, his eyebrows slightly full, and his eyes were a pale blue-gray beneath long lashes.

And when he smiled the way he did right then, there were creases that animated his face. Creases that hammocked his chin from dimples in his cheeks, creases that crinkled the corners of those eyes that glimmered with vibrancy, creases that bracketed that lissome mouth full of blindingly white teeth.

It all made for a powerful package. Powerful enough not to help the muddle Kate was already in and making something flutter inside her that had nothing to do with the baby she was carrying and everything to do with that baby’s daddy and the pure animal magnetism he exuded.

A magnetism that made her step farther into the room even as another part of her wanted to run in the opposite direction just so she could get things under control.

“There she is!” Matt said from the center of the group when he spotted her. “We thought you’d gotten lost.”

She had. For a moment. In the sight of Brady Brown.

But now she struggled to find her way back to some semblance of normalcy so she could play the charade she needed to play to keep her secrets.

“Say hello to Brady,” her brother urged.

“Hello, Brady,” she parroted, trying to make a joke out of the obvious return of Matt’s overt matchmaking attempts.

But there was no joke in that first moment Brady’s eyes rested on her.

Her heart started to beat double time, she felt her face flush, and although her skin still felt prickly, it didn’t seem to originate in tension anymore but in something entirely different.

“Hi, Kate,” Brady said in the lush baritone voice she’d forgotten about. His tone was edged with formality, though. A formality she thought might indicate he was leery of her.

But then why wouldn’t he be leery of her after the way she’d treated him New Year’s morning?

“Brady was just telling us about being stranded in a one-runway airport in the middle of nowhere for the past twenty-four hours,” Matt said to update Kate.

“Which is why I need a shower before keepin’ company with civilized people,” Brady added, directing the comment at Kate. “How ’bout you show me where you folks want me to bunk? Let me clean up some?”

Kate’s pulse redoubled at the prospect, even as she wondered why he didn’t have Matt show him to his rooms.

But she couldn’t be rude and deny a guest his request, so she forced a small smile she hoped looked better than it felt and said, “Sure.”

Brady poked his chin in the direction of the front door. “My bags are there. Just let me grab ’em, and you can lead the way.”

Kate saw Matt nudge her other brother Ry with an elbow and knew Matt was feeling pleased with himself, thinking that he was in the midst of a second chance at getting Kate and Brady together.

If only you knew how much trouble you’ve caused, Kate thought. But she turned and retraced her steps out of the living room rather than saying anything.

Brady followed behind as Matt called after them. “We thought we’d put ’im in the rooms next to yours, Kate. Junebug got ’em all ready.”

Terrific. This just gets better and better.

The house had two wings on either side of the central portion where the living room, dining room and kitchen were lined up. Both wings contained bedroom suites that allowed for privacy no matter how many of the McDermots were in residence.

The suites all had their own bedroom, bathroom and sitting room, complete with fireplaces, wet bars and French doors that allowed entrance from or exit onto the porch that wrapped around the front and sides of the place.

There was also a den and a recreation room, but Kate didn’t want to prolong her time with Brady enough to give him the whole tour, so she merely took him down the hall to the right of the entrance. She went past her own door to the one beside it without saying a word, until they’d reached the entrance to the guest room Brady would be using.

“There you go,” she said simply, opening the door for him but not stepping inside.

Brady craned his neck just enough to peer through the opening before he tossed in his duffel bag and slid his suitcase after it. Then he turned toward Kate, but his gaze didn’t drop to her face until after he’d glanced over her head, as if to be certain they were alone in the hallway.

“I wanted to have a minute with you right away to let you know I’ll be discreet about everything,” he said then. “In case you were worried that I might blurt out something.”

“I wasn’t worried. About that,” she added under her breath.

A small frown tugged at his dark brows. “Are you okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be okay? Don’t I look okay?” She was too quick to answer and she regretted it.

“You look great,” he said as if he meant it. “But you don’t look happy to see me.”

Which wasn’t very hospitable. And he was being more than polite. There was thoughtfulness in his effort to reassure her he’d be keeping their secret.

Kate took a deep breath and called upon her own manners. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a shrew. This whole thing is just—”

“Weird. Uncomfortable. Embarrassing. I know. It is for me, too.”

It was odd, but knowing that, knowing he not only understood how she felt but was feeling the same things—well some of the same things, anyway—helped. It was comforting. Like having a comrade in arms.

“What do you say we start over?” he suggested then. “Wipe the slate clean of Las Vegas and of everything up to this minute and pretend we’ve just met?”

Oh, if only it were that easy.

But nothing was made any easier by her being contrary or nasty so what was the point? Especially when there was so much more they were going to have to deal with than he knew yet.

She held out her hand to him. “Hi. I’m Kate McDermot. Matt’s sister. Happy to meet you.”

Brady chuckled a little and accepted her hand to shake.

Not the best idea in the world.

Because only when that big callused mitt closed around hers did she recall what truly wonderful hands he had. Strong, adept, powerful, commanding. And with a touch that felt like kid leather. A touch she suddenly remembered feeling on other parts of her body and liking much too much.

“Friends?” he said then, still holding her hand and apparently having no idea what it was doing to her.

“Friends,” she confirmed through a constricted throat.

Then he let go, and Kate told herself to breathe again, to act normal, to ignore the fact that that one touch had made her blood run faster in her veins.

“You wanted to shower,” she reminded, since he was still just standing there, still giving her the once-over.

“Right.”

“There should be towels in the cupboard in your bathroom and fresh soap in the dish. The wet bar is probably stocked—feel free to help yourself. If you need anything else just holler.”

“Thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Then I guess I’ll just see you at dinner. With everyone else,” she said, wondering if her cheeriness sounded as false to him as it did to her.

She finally managed to take a few steps backward, and as she did he said, “It’s good to see you again, Kate.”

“You, too,” she answered mechanically.

Then she gave him a little wave and hightailed it back to her own rooms where she again closed herself in and leaned against the door.

Only this time she needed to wait for everything Brady Brown had put into motion inside her to settle down—her pulse, the blood racing through her veins, the prickles on her skin, the warmth where his hand had held hers….

This wouldn’t do, she told herself firmly. It just wouldn’t do to be susceptible to the man. She had to keep a level head and view this situation from a practical standpoint. She’d veered off the straight and narrow with Brady once, and look at how much trouble she’d gotten into. She wasn’t going to let it happen again. Regardless of how great looking he was or how charming or how nice or how sexy.

No sir. Not her. Never again.

Not if it was the last thing she ever did.

But as she pushed away from the door with the strength of her determination not to let Brady have any effect on her, she realized that even if it wasn’t the last thing she ever did, it just might be the most difficult.

Brady unpacked a few things, shucked the clothes he’d been wearing too long now and headed for the shower.

Matt had a nice place here, he thought as he went from the bedroom that was as big as a studio apartment into a bathroom luxurious enough to have been in a four-star hotel.

Yep, a nice place all right. A nice place filled with nice people.

So far it seemed as though his friend’s idea that he check out Elk Creek for some property to invest in was a good one. Which was part of why he was there—to see the spreads Matt had called him about.

And none too soon.

Matt had told him that three different ranches were either up for sale or had owners who were making noises about selling, just when Brady had been looking for an excuse to get up here. Just when he’d been looking for something that he could use as a cover for his other reason for coming.

He needed to have Kate McDermot sign the divorce papers that would dissolve their marriage.

Their marriage. It shouldn’t be called that. It wasn’t a marriage, after all. At least not in any way that counted.

What it was was the most insane thing he’d ever done in his life.

He still couldn’t believe he’d actually married her.

But then, he’d been in a crazy state of mind, he recalled as he stepped into the steamy spray of the shower.

Of course, he hadn’t realized he’d been in a crazy state of mind at the time. In fact, he’d thought he was over the craziness that had struck after his breakup with Claudia. After all, they hadn’t been married. They’d only been living together. And not for long. Sure, he’d known his pride was still bruised from her walking out on him, but he’d really thought he’d gotten past everything else.

And even the bruised pride had felt on the mend the longer he’d been with Kate in Vegas.

That had come as a surprise to him. But then, having a good time with her had come as a surprise to him, too.

Brady had known within fifteen minutes of meeting up with Matt and his family that his old college roommate had a fix-up up his sleeve. To tell the truth, Brady had been initially PO’d about it. A fix-up with his best friend’s sister? That was just asking for trouble as far as Brady was concerned. It was a no-win situation.

Then he’d met Kate.

He’d liked everything about her on sight. She was more beautiful than she seemed to realize, with that buttermilk skin and those huge eyes the color of kiwi fruit.

Her mouth was lush, and she had high cheekbones any supermodel would envy, plus curly hair that danced around a face as perfect as a Greek goddess.

And then there was that compact body with those great breasts that were just the right size….

Oh, yeah, one look at her and he’d gone from PO’d to thinking it might not be so bad to spend some time with her. As long as he kept everything light and friendly and aboveboard. What harm could it do to escort her here and there? he’d asked himself. And the answer he’d come up with was: no harm at all. A few days of enjoying her company and making Matt happy, then they’d go their separate ways.

For a while he’d thought he was pulling that off, too. He’d just been having fun, looking forward to meeting Kate at breakfast every morning and filling the rest of the day and evening with gambling or sight-seeing or shopping or taking in a show together.

Then little things had begun to strike him.

Like how sweet she could be. How nice. Like how much more fun he had when he was with her than when he wasn’t. Like the fact that she had the most terrific laugh that came out sounding like wind chimes and turned her from terrific looking to stunning and made a sparkle come into her eyes that could light up a whole room.

And then it was New Year’s Eve.

His and Matt’s birthdays.

And there he’d been, with his best friend and his best friend’s family, with Kate, having one of the best times he’d ever had. Which had included a record number of toasts with plenty of champagne—not his drink of choice but it had been poured like water that night. And the result of everything put together was that he’d gotten carried away.

Okay, so taking Matt’s sister to a wedding chapel and marrying her on the spur of the moment probably qualified as more than just getting carried away.

But that’s where the insanity part had kicked in again.

By then he’d been aware that he was attracted to Kate. But maybe not how much. And if she’d been another woman he would have just tried coaxing her into spending the night with him.

But she hadn’t been another woman. She was Kate. Sweet Kate. Matt’s little sister. And a virgin.

Brady still didn’t know how she’d arrived at twenty-nine years old with her virginity intact. Or why. But when she’d confided in him that she was a virgin, he’d known he couldn’t just make love to her because they’d both been so inclined. There had to be more to it than that. It had to be special. It had to be ceremonious.

And what had his liquor-soaked brain come up with?

Marriage. They should get married….

Brady stood under the pelting spray of the showerhead and let it beat down on his face as if it might wash away the stupidity in that reasoning from two months ago.

But it didn’t help. What else but stupid could you call marrying your best friend’s virgin sister and then taking her to bed?

Monumentally stupid.

Especially when that sister woke up the next morning feeling about it the way Kate had.

What a rude awakening that had been!

Before he’d so much as thought about what they’d done, she’d been out of bed, frantic and ordering him to rectify it.

Sure he agreed what they’d done had been dumb. But did she have to be so appalled? So outraged? So downright repulsed?

His pride hadn’t just taken another strike, it had taken a full body blow—and then a knee to the groin when she’d gone on to let him know she was so horrified by having married him and slept with him, that he had to promise never to tell her brothers.

Of course, telling her brothers was not high on his top-ten list of things to do, either. But again, it wasn’t an ego booster to know the extent to which Kate was disgusted by the whole situation.

That was about when he’d decided he wanted to kick himself for having fooled around with her in the first place. For having put his friendship with Matt in jeopardy. For not having seen ahead of time that Kate wasn’t anywhere near as attracted to him as he’d been to her.

And rebruised pride or no rebruised pride, Brady hadn’t been left with a doubt in his mind that the best thing for everyone was to do exactly what Kate had ordered him to do just before she’d run out of the room as if she couldn’t stand to spend another minute with him—dissolve the marriage.

Which was what he had contacted a lawyer for the very next day.

So now, as soon as she signed the papers and they filed them, it would finally be over and they could put it behind them. Once and for all.

Finished with his shower, Brady got out of the stall and wrapped a towel around his waist. Then he used another towel to clear the mirror to shave.

As he did, he couldn’t help wondering if, when he could put this fiasco behind him, he would also be able to get Kate McDermot off his mind.

Because that’s where she had been for the past two months. Stubbornly, continuously, vividly on his mind. No matter what he tried to do to dislodge her.

But would some simple paperwork accomplish that? Especially when seeing her again had done what it had done to him?

Even surrounded by her family and at a distance, he’d still felt her presence the very instant she’d walked into the living room. It had been as if the temperature had suddenly risen. As if everything were brighter. As if all the colors around him were more vivid.

And that was before he’d so much as glanced at her.

Then he’d looked up and seen her for the first time since New Year’s morning, and he’d been struck all over again by how beautiful she was in that quietly understated way of hers. With those sparkling green eyes and that wildly curly honey-brown hair shot through with streaks of gold, and those tender lips he remembered kissing until they’d grown puffy….

Damn if he hadn’t wanted to walk away from the rest of her family and go to her, take her in his arms, kiss her again the way he had that night….

Brady nicked himself with his razor, drawing blood.

“That’s what you get for thinking those kinds of things,” he told himself as he tore a corner from a tissue and pressed it to the wound.

And why the hell was he thinking about this now?

He’d already made one huge mistake with that woman and she’d let him know what she thought of him for it.

So what good did it do to be wallowing in this damn attraction to her?

No good, that’s what.

“So shake it off,” he ordered.

And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

Even though a part of him was itching to do something entirely different. To do a little courting. A little charming. A little wooing…

But that was the stupid, crazy part of him.

Because if there was one thing he’d learned in the past year—and learned the hard way—it was that no amount of tenacity or persistence, no amount of wooing or wining and dining or gift giving, could change a woman’s feelings once she’d decided she didn’t want him.

And Kate McDermot had made it more than clear the morning after their wedding that she didn’t want him. Or anything to do with him.

So he was here to visit Matt, to look at some property, to get the divorce papers signed, and that was it.

And if Kate McDermot could still rock his world just by walking into a room? Too bad.

He wasn’t giving in to the attraction. He wasn’t letting it put him in any position where he could be dealt another emotional body blow the way Claudia had done.

And if he and Kate had had one incredible night together? Obviously it hadn’t been as incredible for her as it had been for him.

So that one night was all they were ever going to have together. Because he just didn’t need any more grief.

And that’s all there was to it.