in knee-high black boots, tights and a clingy, crimson blouson appeared from between the garment racks. Hooking the hanger, she retrieved the outfit so they could get a better look.
“We’re attending a dinner tonight on the grounds and a Renaissance wedding tomorrow morning,” Dani explained. “Do you have any suggestions as to what would be considered appropriate attire?”
“Just about anything from the period will go for the dinner. People get very daring and inventive at those affairs. But fairies, definitely fairies for the girls for the wedding. You’re both so petite. You’ll be adorable nymphs.”
“Adorable?” Celeste groaned.
“You just uttered the kiss of death,” Dani said.
The clerk took a step backward and gave Dani a studied once-over. “I have just the dress for you for the wedding.”
“Nothing too revealing,” Dani said as the clerk hurried away.
Celeste and Katie moved to the rack of fairy dresses, airy confections that came with their own silver wings. Dani sneaked a peek at a cherry-red blouson with exquisite embroidered details, topped by a black leather bustier pulled so tight it was almost as if the big-breasted mannequin didn’t have a waist.
Incredibly sexy. Probably similar to what the cowboy’s girlfriend was trying on while he waited outside. One glimpse of her in that would no doubt wipe the grimace right off his handsome, tanned face.
Impulsively, she scanned the area. The cowboy was nowhere in sight. Irritated at herself for giving the guy a second thought, she went back to perusing a rack of dresses. She held one up in front of the floor-length mirror. Over her shoulder she caught a reflection of a nice-looking man in a blue knit shirt who seemed to be staring at her from around the sexy mannequin.
For a second, she thought he was one of the reps she did business with. On second glance, she realized he wasn’t. His hair was not only darker but he had a lot more of it than the rep. She hung the dress back on the rack and moved on until she heard the clerk’s voice.
“I practically had to pluck it from a customer’s hands, but she didn’t have the figure to wear it anyway. You’ll be a knockout in it.”
Dani turned. Her pulse quickened. Her knees went weak. The luscious frock in the clerk’s hands was almost a dead second for the green gown from her nightmare.
“Is something wrong? Are you ill?”
The clerk’s voice floated above her, distorted by a thick fog that clouded Dani’s mind. Slowly the haze cleared, and the attacking images became sharp and chilling. She struggled to breathe.
“Move back. Give her air.”
Her gaze sought out the voice. The cowboy. She reached out to him as her body crumpled, and she sank into a bloody river of darkness.
Chapter Two
Marcus knelt beside the fallen woman and felt her pulse. It was slow but not in the danger zone. Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze met his. A heated jolt galloped up his spine. A weird reaction to a woman he’d never met, even one as attractive as this. It had to be the haunted shadows in the depths of her big brown eyes.
“Are you a doctor?” someone asked.
“I’m a combat medic.” He turned to the crowd. “Stand back a bit. She needs air.”
The hovering bystanders retreated a few inches as two young girls pushed through them. “Mom! What happened?”
“It’s okay, Celeste. I’m fine.” The woman’s voice was uneven, and she swayed when she tried to get up.
“Whoa, there,” Marcus said, reaching out to steady her. “Take it slow.”
“Did you fall?” the other girl questioned.
“She passed out,” someone volunteered.
Another onlooker pointed her finger at Marcus. “He’s a combat medic, trained on the battlefield. He knows what he’s doing.”
The woman was standing now, and she shook loose of Marcus’s protective grasp. “I just fainted,” she insisted. “Believe me, I’m fine.”
Maybe, but from what Marcus had seen, that wasn’t the full story. He‘d been looking right at her—okay, checking her out—when the clerk had brushed by him and held up a long green dress for the woman to admire.
Instead her face had twisted into the kind of agonizing pain he’d seen on soldiers when they’d taken a direct hit. Not the kind of reaction one would expect from a woman eyeballing a ball gown in a Renaissance festival shop.
“You should at least let me check your pulse again,” Marcus said.
“Yeah,” the girl who’d called her “Mom” agreed. “He’s a medic. That’s practically a doctor.”
“I don’t need a doctor or a medic, Celeste. My pulse is terrific.”
She tossed her head and looked around as if searching for the nearest escape route. When she spotted the exit, she started toward it.
The girls followed her. Marcus tagged along behind them, though he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t usually chase after women who were trying to avoid him, but then he seldom met one who hotwired his spine the way this one had. Actually, that was probably a reason to run the other way. But then his buddies in the SEALs had always said he was a danger junkie.
Once they were outside the shop, the woman pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed away the beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Mom?”
“I’m certain.”
“Well, then why did you faint?” the other girl asked.
“Good point,” Marcus added.
She glared at him, her brows raised as if questioning why he was still hanging around. “Low blood sugar.”
“Since when do you have problems with blood sugar?” Celeste protested. “You sometimes go all day without eating.”
“Well, I’m hungry now,” she said, obviously trying to dismiss her daughter’s concern. “We should have lunch and choose our dresses for the party later.”
So the woman was lying about her medical condition, but something had happened to make her fade to black—or rather to a ghostly white—back there. None of his business, he told himself. He didn’t listen.
“Food sounds good,” Marcus said. “How about I join you? That way I’ll be there in case your blood sugar level doesn’t regulate quickly enough and you require medical assistance.”
Her face reddened as if she knew he’d caught her in the lie. Still, she didn’t give an inch. “I’ll be fine, Mr…”
“Abbot,” he interrupted. “Marcus Abbot, but call me Marcus.” He extended a hand.
Surprisingly
