Married Till Christmas. Christine Rimmer

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a heart across the Colorado sky. She’d pretended not to notice.

      Every time he would come up with a new way to get her attention, she would shut him right down. She’d never imagined he’d follow her all the way to Sin City.

      Yet, here he was again.

      “I’ll be having a serious talk with my mother,” she said. “And you should be ashamed of yourself, pumping her for information about my whereabouts when I have told you repeatedly that once was more than enough when it comes to you—I mean, twice when you count how you came back to me after breaking up with me, only to break up with me all over again.”

      “I’ll say it once more. I didn’t pump your mother for information. She called me and volunteered it. And as for me dumping you, that was more than a decade ago. It was high school. We were only kids. I was messed up and not ready. We’re different people now.”

      “No, we’re not. I’m still the girl who would have taken a bullet for your sorry ass. And you’re the guy who fooled me twice. That’s two times too many.” And yet, here she was, backed up against a ficus tree, arguing with him when there was supposed to be nothing she had to say to him.

      And he still wouldn’t give it up. “If you won’t have dinner with me, how about a drink? We can discuss how much you despise me in comfort—and in depth.”

      “I never said I despise you,” she muttered grudgingly. Was she weakening? Oh, all right. Maybe a little. She added more firmly, “You just need to catch a flight back to Justice Creek and leave me the hell alone.”

      “One drink, Nell.” The man had some kind of radar. He knew he was getting to her. “One drink won’t kill you. And I get it. You don’t want to be seen out with me. You don’t want anyone to imagine you might be thinking of giving me another chance.”

      “Because I’m not.”

      “But look at it this way.” He lowered his already velvety tone even more, down to an intimate, just-you-and-me growl. “This is Vegas and you’ve heard what they say about Vegas. No one ever has to know...”

      It was a really bad idea and she needed to walk away.

      But she just couldn’t help comparing him to Ron the tile man—to every man she met, as a matter of fact. He wasn’t the guy for her, but he was kind of her gold standard of what a man should be—well, aside from the way he’d smashed her heart to bits two times running.

      No, she couldn’t trust him. But he was hot and funny and smart. He was that perfect combination, the one she couldn’t resist: a big, down-to-earth blue-collar guy with a really sharp brain. And he’d been after her for months now.

      Okay, it made her feel like a fool to admit it, but lately she’d been having these crazy urges to go ahead and let him catch her.

      She wouldn’t, of course. He would never catch her again.

      But it was Friday night in Vegas, and going back to her room seemed beyond depressing. Friday night in the second week of November and she was alone when all of her siblings were happily married—half siblings, too—and there were four of those.

      She was the only single Bravo left in Justice Creek. Too soon, it would be Thanksgiving and then it would be Christmas, with all those family get-togethers where everyone would be coupled up but her. Even her aggravating widowed mother was getting remarried.

      And, one of these days, Nell wanted to be married, too.

      Unfortunately, only once in her life had she found a guy who really made it happen for her. That guy was standing in front of her now. And he just wouldn’t let it go. He kept coming after her. With him constantly popping up every time she turned around, how was she supposed to stop comparing every guy she met to him?

      It just wasn’t right. It needed to stop.

      But running away from him had gotten her nowhere.

      “One drink, Nellie,” he said again, his voice a rough-tender temptation, his eyes eating her up and, at the same time, daring her to look away.

      What could it hurt, really? Maybe she would actually get through to him at last.

      Maybe tonight he would finally get the message. They could speak reasonably to each other and she could convince him to give up the chase. Come to think of it, she hadn’t tried talking to him civilly, woman to man, yet. And walking away time after time just wasn’t cutting it.

      She sucked in a slow breath. “One drink.”

      For about half a second, he looked totally stunned, the way he had all those years and years ago, when she’d taken the desk in front of him the first day of sophomore English and then turned around and grinned at him. He’d gaped at her, his expression one of complete shock. But only for a moment. Then he’d looked away. She remembered staring at the side view of his Adam’s apple, thinking he was hot, even though one of his battered sneakers had a hole in the toe, his shirt screamed hand-me-down and his hair looked like he’d cut it himself.

      He was lean and rangy then, his shoulders broad but not thick, more hungry looking, like some wild animal, always ready to run. It had taken her weeks to get him to talk to her. And by then, she was a goner. She’d just known he was the guy for her.

      Wrong.

      The grown-up Deck had lost the stunned look. Once again, he was supremely confident, totally at ease. He said, “Well, all right then, Nellie. I know just the place.”

       Chapter Two

      Declan McGrath had done what he set out to do. He’d created the success he’d always wanted.

      This year, his company, Justice Creek Barrels, had made number 245 on the Inc. 5000 list of America’s fastest-growing companies. The broke nobody from the wrong side of town had officially arrived.

      He had it all. Except Nell, who was stubborn, full of pride and unwilling to let go of the past and admit that they belonged together.

      Didn’t matter, though. She could keep on refusing him. He wouldn’t give up.

      And, one way or another, she would finally be his.

      This, tonight, was a big step. She’d actually said yes to him, even if it was only for a drink. He had to go carefully with her, he reminded himself. If he got too eager, pushed too fast, she’d be off like a shot.

      Still, as he led her to a quiet corner booth at the casino/hotel’s most secluded bar, he had a really hard time suppressing a hot shout of triumph. Or at the very least, a fist pump or two.

      She slid into the booth on one side and he took the other. The light overhead brought out the deep, gorgeous red of her hair. Her eyes, green as a secret jungle lagoon, watched him warily.

      God, she was beautiful. Even more so than when she used to love him. And back then she’d been the most beautiful girl in the world. All the guys had wanted a chance with her.

      But she’d only wanted him.

      He’d thrown her away. Sometimes even a

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