ordered a soft drink.
Dakota readjusted his long limbs for the third time. “Give me one of those little bottles of—” he glanced over at Annie and their eyes met “—whisky.”
Uncomfortable, Annie looked away. He used to say a man could get drunk on her whisky-colored eyes. Was he trying to make that flirtatious point now, or did he usually drink his breakfast?
After the attendant moved on, Dakota turned to his sister. “Don’t you dare say a word.”
“Sure.” She popped a peanut into her mouth. “Everybody knows 10:00 a.m. is the perfect cocktail hour.”
When the whisky arrived, he apologized for the inconvenience and asked if he could have a glass of water instead. “I changed my mind,” he said, staring into Annie’s eyes once again.
As his dark gaze moved down her body, she crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, glad the fold-out tray concealed most of her. She had chosen to travel in an almond-colored cotton pant-suit accented with a suede belt and sling-back heels. Annie had a professional yet stylish wardrobe; she had graduated from college with a degree in fashion design.
As Dakota’s gaze seared his approval, she swallowed the lump in her throat. She almost felt as though he were mentally undressing her. Almost. He glanced away before she could be sure. Maybe he got as far as popping open a few buttons, she decided, actually checking the front of her blouse to be sure they were in place.
As her hand crept to her second button, his lips twitched. The fleeting smile had a sensuality attached that made her cheeks feel flushed.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
Annie stopped fidgeting with her buttons. “Nothing.”
The twitching smile returned. “Guess what, squirt? I booked us the honeymoon suite.”
Annie glanced over at Mary, hoping she might intervene, but the other woman wore headphones and was tapping in time to the music selection she had chosen.
“Dakota.”
Amusement danced in his black eyes. “What?”
Suddenly she wished he’d go back to his brooding self. “I’m sharing a room with Mary.”
“Yeah, I know. I was just kidding around.” He tore open one of the little peanut bags. “But haven’t you ever wondered about honeymoon suites? Like do they have mirrors above the beds or heart-shaped hot tubs or what?”
Actually she had but wouldn’t dare admit it. “It never crossed my mind.” Images of being with Dakota Graywolf in a honeymoon suite could prove dangerous.
He shifted his legs for what had to be the fourth or fifth time. Definitely too tall for coach, she decided. “Six-one,” she said, thinking out loud.
He answered what he must have thought was a question. “Two. Three in boots. And I hate these coach flights.”
Annie couldn’t resist a smirk. “This suits me just fine. I’m still a squirt.” Teasing about the childhood nickname seemed easier than complaining about it. Besides, maybe it was safer having him regard her as “squirt” rather than a woman.
He finished off the peanuts and stuffed the bag into his empty water cup. “Yeah, you’re still little, but you grew up beautiful. Just like I knew you would.”
Annie turned toward the aisle as the flight attendant neared, grateful for the interruption. Dakota’s hushed tone and gentle words had sounded like a bedroom whisper. Intimate and husky.
The attendant took their empty cups and moved on just as the plane hit a pocket of turbulence.
Several passengers murmured, and more than one pair of eyes popped open as the plane bumped and jarred. Annie, an inexperienced flyer, gripped her armrest for support, unintentionally catching Dakota’s hand.
His fingers curled around hers. “You okay?”
“I don’t like being away from the kids.” She let him hold her hand because the gesture made her feel safe. He had protective hands, large and slightly callused. “If something happened to us…”
He rubbed his fingertips over her knuckles. “Nothing’s going to happen. It’s just a little turbulence.”
“I know. It’s the first time I’ve spent a night away.”
As the plane steadied and the other anxious passengers relaxed, Annie’s gaze locked with Dakota’s, and an awkward silence stretched between them. Although their fingers were still entwined, neither attempted to break the connection.
Annie watched his chest rise and fall, wondering if the contact had made his heart beat as erratically as hers. Not likely, she thought. Things like rapid heartbeats and stomach butterflies didn’t happen to men. Not men like him, anyway.
She slid her hand away and immediately folded up the tray and latched it, telling herself that her reaction had been perfectly normal. Just airplane jitters. She hadn’t been electrocuted by six foot plus of beautifully sculpted male. Tall and sinfully handsome didn’t affect her anymore. Her ex-fiancé had curbed that craving long ago.
Mary popped her headphones off and grinned. “That was fun, wasn’t it? That roller-coaster action.”
“Yeah.” Dakota clasped his hands in front of him as though ensuring they wouldn’t collide with Annie’s again. “We’re having a blast, aren’t we, darlin’?”
“Oh, sure.” Annie nodded, hoping she appeared calmer than she felt. Her heart had yet to resume its steady rhythm.
Two
Annie sat beside Mary on a gold-flecked bench in the tiny waiting room of the chapel, gazing at the decor. “This place is—”
“Gaudy,” the other woman provided with a smirk.
Annie nodded. Gaudy fit. Everything, including the textured wallpaper, had been gold-leafed. The design on the maroon-and-royal-blue carpet clashed with the green drapes, the kind, Annie mused, Scarlett O’Hara had fashioned a dress from. In her opinion, Scarlett’s imaginative dress certainly looked better than the windows here did. She gazed around again and winced, then widened her eyes when Dakota entered the room, carrying a bouquet of white roses and a yellow corsage. He slipped the corsage onto his sister’s wrist and handed Annie the roses.
“They sell flowers here,” he said by way of explanation, his shoulders rising with a slight shrug.
Pleasantly surprised by the thoughtful gesture, Annie thanked him, while Mary reacted like a dutiful sister and stood to fuss with his hair. As Mary brushed a stray lock from Dakota’s eye, Annie hugged the delicate bouquet to her chest and studied him. Not only had the groom provided flowers, he’d worn a suit, one that appeared tailor-made for his wide shoulders and slim hips. The black jacket intensified the depth of his eyes as a white Western shirt, adorned with chain-stitch embroidery and tiny glass beads, emphasized the copper glow of his skin. In lieu of a tie he wore an engraved silver bolo.
As Mary attempted to right Dakota’s hair, Annie noticed it appeared to have a mind of its own. When the tousled
