the table. “Join us.”
Oliver’s brows pulled together.
Beneath Oliver’s polished smile, Shannon saw signs of fatigue. Had everyone forgotten that he’d made a transatlantic flight with a toddler only days earlier?
“What can I do for you, Jude?” Oliver asked.
Shannon thought his eyes may have lingered on her for an extra heartbeat, but she couldn’t be certain.
“You can stop making the ladies swoon.”
Obviously perplexed, Oliver glanced over at Shannon for clarification.
She simply smiled and shifted her gaze to Jude. This was his bronc in the rodeo, not hers.
“These ladies—” Jude gestured to Shannon and Gabi “—are swooning over your accent.”
Oliver ignored Gabi to focus on Shannon. Though she’d never been the wilting-violet, blushing type, heat rose up her neck.
“Actually, it was me.” Gabi raised her hand like a schoolgirl eager to talk. “I adore your accent. Though I’m not sure the effect would be the same, can you teach me to speak like you?”
Poor Oliver.
Two lines formed between his brows. It was obvious he didn’t quite know what to make of his cousin’s soon-to-be bride or the plate of cowboy caviar someone shoved into his hand.
“Gabi’s teasing you.” Shannon spoke in a matter-of-fact tone and took a sip of the margarita.
“Oh.”
“I’m in the mood for some dancing,” Jude announced. “Mind keeping the ladies company while I get that started?”
“Dancing?” Shannon smiled. “On what dance floor?”
“That will be remedied momentarily,” Jude said over his shoulder.
“Don’t even bother trying to figure him out.” Gabi’s tone was filled with warm affection. The smile was still on her lips when she shifted her attention to Oliver. “I was surprised to see Amelia and Quinn here.”
“Why?”
“Their baby is so tiny.”
“I’m certain whoever is watching her has been cleared by Scotland Yard.”
Oliver sat the plate of “caviar” down just as the sweet melody of a romantic ballad filled the air, followed by Jude’s booming voice.
“I don’t know about the other grooms-to-be, but with the wedding less than two weeks away, I need to practice my dance steps,” Jude said.
“Give it up, Jude,” one of his brothers called out. “Practice isn’t going to change the fact that you have two left feet.”
“He does not,” Gabi muttered indignantly.
“Shut up, Chris,” Jude shot back good-naturedly. “We’re going to use this part of the room for dancin’, so everyone put down your drinks and grab a partner.”
“That’s my man,” Gabi said with pride. “A real take-charge guy.”
Her take-charge guy returned to the table to pull her to her feet and lead her to the area he had cleared for dancing. They weren’t the only couple. All around Shannon and Oliver, men and women were pairing up.
When Shannon saw a woman walk by with a toddler, it struck Shannon that she hadn’t seen Ollie for a while. “Where’s Ollie?”
“Mum is changing his nappy.” Oliver grasped on to the topic like a drowning man would grab a life jacket. “I couldn’t pry him away from her even if I wanted to.”
Do you want to, Oliver?
He looked at her so strangely that for a split second Shannon thought she must have spoken aloud. Until she realized his growing unease was because everyone who’d been seated at their table was now dancing.
Oliver pushed back his chair and abruptly stood. When he opened his mouth, Shannon found herself anticipating what it would feel like to be held in his strong arms.
“If you’ll excuse me.” His head inclined in a slight bow. “I must check on my son.”
Oliver turned on his heel and strode off, leaving Shannon alone and, just as when she was thirteen, without a date for the dance.
By ten the next morning, Oliver had fed his son, changed his nappy for the third time and was ready to get down to business. He placed Ollie in his car seat and set off for the Triple S ranch.
He called Shannon’s father to make sure he’d be home, indicating he had something of a personal nature to discuss with him. When Shep had bluntly asked what it was, Oliver told him it was a matter best discussed in person. So here he was, on a bright and sunny Saturday morning in early February, headed over to clarify with a Texas rancher that he didn’t have designs on his daughter.
Certainly Shannon intrigued him. How could she not, with eyes the color of rich, dark cocoa and a smile that pierced his reserve as easily as an arrow through marshmallow. Was it any wonder that last night he’d been seriously tempted to ask her to dance?
Oliver wheeled the Mercedes onto the highway, remembering how very close he’d come to asking her. But that, he thought rather righteously, was the difference between a strong man and a weak one. No matter how tempted he was to see what it would feel like to hold her in his arms, Oliver hadn’t given in to temptation.
In fact, he’d walked away. Not because he couldn’t handle the temptation but because he’d seen the way her foot tapped in time to the music and the longing way she glanced at the couples dancing. By leaving the table, he’d made it easier for other men to ask her.
Yet, when he’d watched his cousin Galen stroll over and Shannon had risen to take his arm, Oliver had felt a twinge of unease. He hoped his cousin was an honorable man.
Oliver couldn’t help noticing Galen held her a little too closely when they danced. And why was he whispering in her ear? What could they be saying that was so secretive? It had to be a ploy to get even closer to her. And from what Oliver had observed, it worked.
Actually it was something Oliver might have done if she’d been in his arms. But Shannon was his employee. Not that a man couldn’t dance with his employee. But he could never hold her close.
The last thing Oliver wanted was to mess up a good working relationship before it even began. Some women could handle a casual, meaningless affair. He had the distinct impression that Shannon wasn’t like those women. In fact, she’d made it clear she wanted a business relationship only. He’d agreed. He’d given her his word. And a gentleman always kept his word.
Though right now Oliver didn’t feel much like a gentleman.
Thoughts of Shannon occupied him during the rest
