The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride. Sherryl Woods
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Something died inside her at the cold, hard flatness of his words, but she knew it was the truth, had known it way back when sheâd made the decision to keep the secret. Staying silent was going to cost her eventually. Now it had and it hurt more than sheâd ever imagined.
âIâm sorry,â she said again.
âSorry wonât cut it this time. Now how about getting this stuff together and taking me to see my daughter?â
It was a command, not a request, and it sent a jolt of pure fear shooting through her. âTonight?â
âI think itâs time, donât you? Way past time, in fact.â
âSheâll be asleep,â she protested, trying to buy time. An hour from now she could bundle Amy Lynn up, wake the band and be on the bus heading for the next stop. No one would question the abrupt, middle-of-the-night departure, not aloud at any rate, and definitely not once theyâd heard about Harlan Patrickâs untimely arrival.
He gave her a look that suggested he saw straight through her. âIâll be quiet as a church mouse,â he countered. âAnd if she happens to wake up, well, Iâd say a momentous occasion like this is worth losing a little sleep over, wouldnât you?â
Laurie couldnât think of a single argument that could possibly counter the bitter logic of that. âGive me five minutes,â she said tightly, then waited for him to leave the room.
He didnât budge. Regarding her evenly, he said with wry humor, âYou surely werenât thinking Iâd wait outside, were you? With that big old window right over your dressing table? I donât think so. As I recall, climbing out windows in the middle of the night used to be one of your specialties. Thatâs how we got around your curfew way back when we couldnât keep our hands off each other.â
âI was a kid back then,â she protested, then gave up. He was sticking to her like glue, and that was that. âOkay, then, at least turn your back.â
âLaurie, thereâs not an inch of bare skin on your body I havenât seen with my own eyes. Itâs a little late to turn all prim and proper on me.â
She thought she detected a faint hint of laughter in his voice, and that alone was enough to give her hope that they could get through this mess tonight and go on with their lives. This was Harlan Patrick, after all. Heâd always been quick to anger, but just as quick to forgive. Heâd see Amy Lynn, satisfy himself that she was okay and go back to Texas. That would be that, she thought optimistically.
One glance at his expression told her she was delusional. Harlan Patrick wasnât going anywhere. And once heâd seen Amy Lynn, what then? Would he really be able to walk away, or would that just be the beginning of her worst nightmare? Mad as he was, she couldnât envision him demanding marriage at the moment. Would he try to take her baby? It was a distinct possibility.
Already gearing up for the fight, she scowled at him. âOh, for heavenâs sakes,â she said, âif youâre so hard up you have to sneak a peek at my bare breasts, then have yourself a ball.â
She stripped out of her damp stage clothes and reached for fresh underwear. Only then did she notice that it wasnât strewed all over the room the way sheâd left it.
Without bothering to cover herself, she turned to him, laughter bubbling up. âYou straightened up in here, didnât you?â
He shot her a defiant look. âSo what if I did?â
âHarlan Patrick Adams, Iâm surprised at you. I thought you were long past tidying up my messes.â
âOld habits die hard, darlinâ,â he said in a tone rich with hidden meanings. âMaybe you should remember that.â
Chapter Four
Seeing Laurie again stirred up all the old feelings for Harlan Patrick. From love to hate, from bitterness to joy, his emotions went on a sixty-second roller-coaster ride, leaving his palms sweaty and his belly in knots. After that things only got worse.
Pure lust slammed through him the instant she walked in that dressing-room door. No woman had ever been her equal for making his temper hot and his body hotter. Having her stare him down with hardly a stitch of clothes on had just about broken his resolve to keep his hands to himself until they had this whole sorry situation straightened out. He was just itching to kiss her senseless, to lose himself in her warmth and her scent, to prove to himself that at least one thing hadnât changed between them.
Thereâd been a time when heâd have gone for it, taken the immediate satisfaction, reveled in the sensory explosion without a thought to the consequences. A few years of loneliness and loss had made him more cautious, maybe even more mature. In one tiny corner of his brain, it registered that sex wasnât the answer.
For once he jammed his hands in his pockets and stayed as far away from her as it was possible to get in that itty-bitty dressing room. It wasnât quite as far as good sense called for, but it was as far as he dared given the likelihood that sheâd run out on him at the first opportunity. It had taken too long finding her for him to risk losing track of her again. He wasnât going anywhere until heâd seen his daughter and he and Laurie had made some decisions about the future.
Not that she was in much of a decision-making mood. In fact, he suspected she was going to be thoroughly unreasonable, just the way sheâd always been when sheâd been cornered. Normally heâd spend a lot of time trying to coax her into a better frame of mind, but there wasnât time for that, either. She and his baby girl were likely to slip right through his fingers before he could blink if he didnât stay right on top of Laurie every second, if he didnât make it perfectly clear what his own expectations were.
âIâm ready,â she announced, drawing his attention.
Sheâd wiped away the last traces of stage makeup, leaving only a touch of lipstick. The glittery outfit sheâd worn had been replaced by worn jeans and a T-shirt. Sheâd scooped her hair up into a careless ponytail, just as she had as a girl when the heat of a Texas summer afternoon got to be too much. His fingers itched to pull away the band holding it, allowing it to fall free again, the way he liked it.
Finally, though, he thought, she looked like his Laurie, approachable and unassuming, the girl next door. In some ways that was more dangerous than the sexy woman whoâd walked into the dressing room a half hour before. Heâd fallen in love with the girl from his old hometown, not the superstar image. Heâd convinced himself that that Laurie, wide-eyed with wonder, had gotten lost.
Of course, the change was superficial, all about appearances. Try as he might, he couldnât tell yet how deep the changes ran, if there was anything of the old Laurie in her heart.
He stood up and took her small suitcase. It weighed a ton. He grinned. âStill donât have a clue how to pack light, do you? Whatâs in here? Rocks?â
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