Книга - Lead Me On

Lead Me On
Crystal Green


It's a Bridal Basket Auction! Bachelors, bid now and win a night you will never forget Basket #1: Around the Girl in 80 Ways Forget baked goods and innocent picnics - Margot Walker's anonymous basket is all about risqu and reward! Eighty pieces of paper are tucked inside, each listing a different destination. And each destination is an erotic promise. Of course, you'll be betting against cowboy Clint Barrows (whom the ladies consider to be walking sex in a Stetson). Clint knows Margot is the one who got away, and he's determined to find out exactly what is in her basketand meet each naughty adventure with one of his own!







Two Bridesmaids Two Provocative Baskets Endless sensual possibilities…

Bridesmaids Margot Walker and Leigh Vaughn have

a wonderful idea to raise money for their friend’s

wedding—putting a basket full of spicy date ideas

up for auction. But who will bid? And what, exactly, will the highest bidder be getting?

Margot is hoping her college crush buys her basket.

Too bad her arch-enemy, Clint Barrows, beats

him to it…

Leigh doesn’t have a buyer in mind when she creates

her auction offering. Good thing—because even

after sharing her basket, she still has no idea who

her admirer really is…

Who knew being in a wedding party came

with these kinds of perks?

Don’t miss

MYSTERY DATE by Crystal Green (September 2013)


Lead Me On

Crystal Green




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CRYSTAL GREEN lives near Las Vegas, where she writes for the Mills & Boon® Cherish™ and Blaze® lines. She loves to read, overanalyze movies and TV programs, practice yoga, and travel when she can. You can read more about her at www.crystal-green.com, where she has a blog and contests. Also, you can follow her on Twitter @CrystalGreenMe.


To Jolie—your expertise of storytelling

and passion for knowledge inspire me!


Contents

Chapter 1 (#uac419ae9-7451-5ec7-a9d7-d3a095f68497)

Chapter 2 (#u56f65675-0f45-5d50-a166-6ba501a39071)

Chapter 3 (#uc2e2f6d8-8405-5abe-b624-54d5a4836589)

Chapter 4 (#ueb4e4867-0f9f-582e-92ee-a7f42c8c8c48)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 2 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)


1

THE VIDEO HAD been posted on YouTube that morning, and Margot Walker was determined to prove that it hadn’t bothered her one bit.

So as she sat in a booth in the Avila Grande Suites’ bar with her two best friends, she calmly sipped her Midori Sour, leaning back against the leather seat. Around them, conversation buzzed from a few other happy-hour hotel guests—none of whom were a part of the Phi Rho Mu fraternity and Tau Epsilon Gamma sorority ten-year reunion that was taking place in the hotel this weekend.

“Margot,” Leigh said, leaning her elbows on the table, her blond braid hanging over a shoulder. “Are you sure you’re up for this? Nobody would blame you if you decided to bug out and go home.”

Margot carefully set her drink down on the polished table. Dani, with her curly red hair, porcelain skin to die for and a peach-hued shirt, was nodding in agreement beside Leigh.

“Why put yourself through this?”

“Because I’m not going to let a ridiculous prank chase me away,” Margot said. “Yes, some bored moron posted that video late last night, hoping to get my goat. Yes, everyone is probably going to laugh at me because of what’s on it. But I don’t care. No one’s keeping me away from meeting up with my friends after all these years.”

“You’re talking like it’s just any old video.” Leigh picked up her beer bottle and reclined in her seat, a sexy, laid-back cowgirl in her tight pink-plaid Western shirt. “It was bad enough when it was circulated in college. Now, to have it show up again...?”

“It reflects worse on whoever did this than it does on me,” Margot said. And it almost sounded like she believed it.

After all, it was humiliating. A dimly lit fraternity room. A couch. Heavy breathing. Her giving in to the one guy she should’ve never said yes to.

The jerk Clint Barrows.

As Margot pushed a rush of heat back—she was angry, which was why she was blushing and flushing—Dani laughed in amazement.

“That video embarrassed the hell out of you the first time and you never forgave Clint Barrows for it. And don’t lie to us, Marg, because we know that’s the truth.”

“As I said, I got over it.” But, when a group of white-collar men wandered into the bar, she momentarily stiffened, waiting to see if she knew them. Waiting to see if they would laugh their asses off at her.

But...no. Just some random guys here on business or whatever.

She forced herself not to hang back in the booth. She was here to show whoever had put up that video that she was an adult, impervious to the slings and arrows of juvenile jokes.

And what a joke it had been. A prank. A camera hidden in a fraternity house during a party one night—the night she’d finally dropped all her hard-to-get flirting with Clint Barrows and given in to his cowboy Romeo charm, going to his room to “watch movies.” But movies were the last thing on their minds, and she’d told him that she would kill him if he let anyone know that they were doing anything more than hanging out and eating popcorn.

She hadn’t expected to be filmed while saying that and getting hot and heavy with the campus lothario.

Very hot and heavy, although not all-the-way hot and heavy, thank God.

To think, she’d actually liked Clint before she’d gone off with him, had been attracted to him even if he’d had a heck of a lot of women on that secondhand couch and had watched quite a few “movies.”

But there was just something about him that had drawn Margot in, even though she’d known he was bad news. Something in his eyes that sparkled dangerously, daring her, inviting her to come on a big adventure she’d never regret. And no guy had ever made her skin tingle with just a look, made her belly flip just at the sound of his voice....

She’d been taken in, though, made sport of. Hunted and caught in the lens of a camera. She’d known it when she’d seen the red eye of the device in the near-dark just as he’d been undoing the buttons on her shirt.

She’d smacked the ever-lovin’ charm out of him and left the room, too shocked to even think to destroy the tape. Too... Well, she would’ve said hurt if she’d cared enough.

And she didn’t. Really. Because, even when he’d sent an email to her the next morning, telling her that he hadn’t known about any camera, that it was his roommate who’d set it up, and that the tape had been demolished, she hadn’t answered. Her humiliation had only flared when she’d heard that the video was making the rounds around campus.

Sure, some good sources had backed up Clint’s story that he wasn’t the one who’d set up or circulated that tape, but when she really thought about it, that wasn’t the true reason she couldn’t stand him. She’d been caught with him, the conquest king, on film, telling him that their night should be kept a secret. What a laugh riot that must’ve been for the video’s audience before seeing the fireworks that had begun between them.

First off, Margot didn’t like being the butt of any joke. Second, she could imagine Clint basking in the glory of the video—proof that he had finally gotten her to bend her will to him. Third, she never wanted to be just a number for any guy.

She’d spent college playing hard-to-get for a lot of boys, and her reputation and pride had sure taken a hit after the scandal. And his reputation had only grown, his college nickname, “Stud,” reaching epic proportions in their social circles for the rest of their senior year.

Her dislike of him had grown with every knowing glance she’d received at every social event after that.

But then summer had come and life had really started. A decade had passed since, and the video had become just one of those ridiculous college mistakes that no one mentioned anymore. It’d been all but forgotten.

Until last night.

Just as she’d been checking her email this morning, all packed and ready to hit the road for this reunion between her sorority and its fraternity counterpart, she’d found messages from her sorority sisters about the video. No one knew who’d posted it, but Margot’s first thought went to Clint.

Had he lied about destroying the tape way back then because he thought he could get into her good graces...or her pants...so he could close the deal? And had he aired it now, just because he thought it’d be funny for the reunion?

She wished he’d walk into the bar so she could face him down and tell him to grow up. She was so far beyond him and that night.

As she rested her hand on her glass of Midori Sour, she smiled at her friends. “Why bring that crap up again when we have more important things to talk about? As in, auction baskets for this weekend?”

Leigh caught her cue and shot a glance to Dani. They’d all met in the lobby about fifteen minutes ago and had just sat and started chatting when the scandal had reared its ugly head again. Margot had already told them she was over it on the phone during her drive there, but leave it to Dani and Leigh to question her.

Anyway, when they’d first seen each other, hugging and laughing, she and Leigh had sprung their own surprise on Dani, telling her about the charity auction the two of them were throwing tomorrow night because they wanted her to have the big wedding she’d always yearned for. It’d be an All-American college-reunion good time that wasn’t going to be ruined just because some ass—had it been Clint?—had decided to pep up the event with a memory Margot would’ve rather forgotten.

Once again, she thought of the cowboy, with his denim-blue eyes, his lackadaisical way of watching her walk through one of the many parties their fraternity and sorority had thrown together. Then, just as quickly, she tamped down that spark in her belly.

Jerk.

“Guess what I’m going to call my auction basket,” she said, ignoring thoughts of him.

Dani was strangely quiet, just as she’d been when Leigh and Margot had launched the surprise on her, come to think of it.

But Leigh was already talking, leaving the video behind, although Margot suspected it’d come up again.

“Lord knows what you conjured up, Marg.”

Her smile grew. “‘Around the Girl in Eighty Ways.’”

She waited for them to give her that “come again?” look that she’d gotten so used to back in college when she’d whipped up similar harebrained ideas.

And, yep, there it was.

Come again?

Leigh took the bait first. “How does going around the girl in eighty ways fit in an auction basket?”

“I’m betting it’ll fit very nicely on auction night. Hopefully even more than once.” Margot shot Leigh a saucy grin, while Dani just lifted an eyebrow at Margot.

Then Dani said, “I’m not sure about all this....”

Leigh nudged Dani good-naturedly. “You’ve got to hear Margot out. She came down here, even in the midst of a pride-spankin’, just for you, Dan.”

“Thanks,” Margot said, narrowing her eyes at Leigh. She spoke to Dani. “This is just the first of many gifts for our bride-to-be.”

“But I don’t need—”

“It’s not a matter of need or not need,” Margot said, on a roll. See—it wasn’t so hard to forget about that video. Sort of. “You used to talk about the perfect wedding all the time. Everyone wants it to happen for you at the end of this year in the huge, grand way you used to describe to us.”

“You were our Wedding Girl,” Leigh added, giving Dani’s arm a friendly, light squeeze.

Dani said nothing, and Margot caught Leigh’s gaze. Sure, they’d talked about whether or not they were being too intrusive, assuming Dani would want their help, since her funds were too low to afford that dream wedding. But, my God, this was Dani. And this was their chance to help her achieve the fantasies she’d collected in her wedding scrapbook—pictures of frothy white dresses and creamy cakes, blooming flowers and a bride and groom who couldn’t take their eyes off each other.

If someone good like Dani didn’t deserve it all, then who did?

“You’ve already talked about this auction to everyone?” Dani finally asked.

Across the table, Leigh looked a little sheepish as she put down her beer. “We might’ve secretly suggested it to the sisters on our email loop.”

Dani was flushing, and Margot wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or angry with them. But Dani never got angry.

When she spoke, she made Margot rethink that.

“So everyone knows that poor me, the lowly caterer and not the Paula Deen she aimed to be back when she majored in home ec, can’t afford a decent wedding? And her fiancé is only a small-estate manager, not the business mogul he wanted to become, so that means they can’t possibly afford even fancy flower arrangements?” She laughed. “I suppose that’s not too embarrassing.”

Margot glanced at Leigh again. Whoops.

Leigh seemed just as helpless as Margot as she peeled away the label of her beer. “Can I just put things in perspective and volunteer that Margot’s video is going to take all the ‘embarrassing’ out of the reunion for you, Dan? That’s what everyone’ll be talking about.”

To Leigh’s credit, she was merely doing her best. Margot followed suit.

“Once again, Leigh, thanks so much.” She smiled at Dani. “No one thinks you’re destitute. It’s only that your wedding plans were legendary in the sorority. Hell, your nickname during pledging was ‘Hearts.’ We’d talk about getting together for the ceremony someday and how it’d be a time when we could all celebrate together.”

“It was going to be a milestone,” Leigh added.

Margot went on, and it was just like the old days, when she would get a lightbulb idea going and Leigh would join in, eventually followed by Dani.

“The wedding is as much for us as it is for you,” she said. “It means everything because you’re marrying the guy from our counterpart fraternity, and everyone knew you were going to get together with him even before the two of you knew it. It’s a big deal for all of us Rhos and Taus.”

Dani finally smiled, probably because of the memories.

Times like the spring-break trip to Cabo—a Bacchanalia that had sworn Margot, Leigh and Dani off booze for...well, weeks. It had been just one of many adventures they’d shared as sorority sisters and Margot would never forget them. The three of them had grown up together during some very pivotal years, then tossed their graduation caps in the air as one, letting them rain down with the joy of exploring all the roads ahead.

Back then, Margot had nursed so many ambitions—to travel the world, to write books—and she’d done all of it in the time from there to here.

But dreams could last only so long.

She ate the maraschino cherry in her Midori Sour, yet it didn’t taste as good as it used to—not after the bad news she’d gotten last month about how her latest “single girl on the go” travel book had done.

Or, more to the point, hadn’t done.

As usual, Margot tried not to show how upset she was. She’d been keeping the news to herself that her publishing company hadn’t wanted to go to contract after she closed out this most recent book. Surely something else was bound to come along.

Wouldn’t it?

Dani was talking. “But...I still don’t know about raising money for my wedding.”

Leigh said, “Don’t they have money dances at receptions? We’d just be doing the asking before the wedding.”

“Besides, it’s not any old auction,” Margot was quick to add, dangling the cherry stem between her fingers. “This is something everyone will love. A basket auction, just like they used to do in the old days at picnics. You know, when the girls packed a lunch in a basket and tied a telltale ribbon around the handle so the boy she was crushing on would know it was hers and take her out?”

“Days of innocence,” Leigh said in her ranch-girl drawl. Country-singer cool, she rested her free arm over the top of the booth. She seemed as down-to-earth as they came—if you didn’t know her very well. Leigh was the type to come off as earthy, even though she was a rising star at The Food Network with a new show that Margot could describe only as “sensuous farmhouse cooking”—like putting Faith Hill in Martha Stewart’s kitchen.

For a second, Margot could almost see her friends as they used to be: Leigh, forty pounds heavier, laughing at the nickname—“Cushions”—that everyone had given her, even while inside, Margot knew, Leigh hadn’t found it so hilarious. And Dani, a home ec major like Leigh, known as the romantic “Hearts,” who used to love matchmaking at the dinner parties she put together.

But Margot had them beat. She’d been an endangered species on their rural San Joaquin Valley campus—an English major among all the agricultural business majors and local cowboys and cowgirls. She’d never minded standing out, though. Leigh, who’d been her dorm roomie, and Dani, who’d lived down the hall, had talked Margot into joining Tau Epsilon Gamma, and she’d never regretted a day of it.

Even if her parents hadn’t been quite as excited.

Sororities are for girls who’ll never find a day of independence in their lives, her dad had said. Don’t you want to have a mind of your own?

Of course she did, but joining the Taus hadn’t quashed the free spirit her hippy-minded parents had raised her to be as they’d moved from town to town, “experiencing all life has to offer.” They’d take temporary jobs and then one day jerk her out of school before she could find a best friend. Sometimes she’d wondered if they cared about how she fit into their whole “see the world!” philosophy...or if she’d just been one more item on their bucket lists.

But she’d found a whole lot of friends all on her own, thank you very much.

And that’s what mattered.

Margot searched Dani’s gray-hued gaze. Was her friend about to come around to the idea of the auction? She and Leigh hadn’t meant to mortify her; when Dani had told them during their own private yearly get-together a few months ago that she and Riley couldn’t afford the wedding she’d been planning since she was a little girl, it’d looked as if her heart was about to break.

Or was Dani going to tell them to go to hell?

“Dani,” Margot said, reaching across the table to enclose her hand, which rested by her untouched wine spritzer. “We can call off the auction if you want. Really.”

Leigh looked as if she was holding her breath, clearly just as torn about this. Since she’d lost weight last year, she’d made a pact with Margot to be more adventurous than ever. Hence, this basket thing. Even though she’d always seemed confident, she hadn’t been anywhere near it. Now, though, Leigh was different, and she was going to take her new attitude into the bedroom for the very first time in her life with this auction. She’d vowed to do things like making love with the lights on and playing all the bedroom games she’d never allowed herself to play.

And Margot... Well, she was pretty much already one of those girls, never settling into a relationship, since there was so much to do out in the world, so much to see and experience. Putting together a sinful basket would be one more adventure for the adventuress—and it’d be a way to say “See? That damned YouTube video isn’t going to cow me” to whoever had posted it.

Clint?

Truthfully, there was a bonus in the basket auction. This weekend would also be a chance to reconnect with her old boyfriend, Brad, maybe relive some good old times....

Margot stopped herself. These days, she wasn’t as confident as everyone thought. She felt like a real failure at the moment, with her less-than-bestselling books.

Most Likely to Succeed?

Not so much anymore. But she was damned if she was going to let anyone see the self-doubt. Nope—she had taken the lead in putting together this auction, and she wanted it to go off without a hitch, video or no. She would do it for Dani’s sake and...

Well, to let everyone know that nothing was going to get her down.

“Dani?” Leigh asked. “Do you want us to cancel the auction?”

A second passed, and Margot maintained her poker face, even as her heart beat against her ribs.

But then Dani smiled. “I’d hate to ruin anyone’s fun....”

“I knew you’d be on board,” Leigh said, beaming.

Margot raised her drink, even though she thought she still detected some reluctance in Dani. “To a hell of an auction, then?”

“I’ll drink to that.” Leigh toasted, too. “Then again, I’ve got the feeling we’ll be drinking to a lot of thats this weekend.”

Dani brought her spritzer glass up as well, and they all clinked, then threw their drinks down the hatch.

When they finished, Margot noticed that the room was filling up. Businessmen cluttered the mahogany bar, loosening their ties and glancing around.

When the waitress stopped by to check on the three women, Leigh ordered another round of drinks. Then the server went to the next booth, the occupant obscured by the strip of stained glass edging the top of the seats.

Obviously, someone had slipped in, unnoticed, during their conversation, because the waitress took that order, too. Couldn’t be anyone they knew, Margot thought, or they would’ve said hi.

“So, Margot,” Leigh began, “how about that Around the Girl in Eighty Ways basket?”

“What, are you going to steal ideas from me?” Margot asked playfully.

“Like I’d need to.”

They’d always tried to top each other in grades and at social events, and they’d made each other challenge themselves, too, Margot thought. Too bad she didn’t have Leigh around more these days.

She brushed off the pessimism. There wasn’t room for it this weekend. “The title pretty much says it all, doesn’t it? I have little pieces of paper with different...scenarios...on them. Whoever bids the highest can enact one or more of them during our date.”

“Whoa,” Leigh said. “Brassy. I thought I’d make mine a little vaguer, you know? Just in case it goes to someone who doesn’t really appeal.”

“Oh, I’m going to make sure it goes to someone who appeals to me. But not to worry—the scenarios I’ve chosen can be interpreted in various ways. They can be as naughty as I want...or as nice.”

“You devil,” Leigh said.

“Or angel.” Margot winked and took another drink.

“Just exactly what kind of scenarios are they?” Dani asked.

Behind them, in the other booth, someone cleared his throat.

Margot barely heard, because she was concentrating on Dani. She loved to see that her friend was warming to this basket idea. “Scenarios. You know me. My books were all about seeking fun for the well-traveled girl, so I’ve got several adventures already researched and tested.”

She hesitated. Her books were all about seeking fun? Had she really just used the past tense?

Leigh’s olive-colored eyes lit up. “I can see where this is going.”

“Can you?”

“Please, Marg,” Dani said. “Even a few months ago, you were talking about seeing Brad here at the reunion. I think we can figure out that you’re going to make sure he’s the one who bids the highest, so you can rekindle that flame you had in junior summer break.”

“Did you tell him about your basket yet?” Leigh asked.

Margot thought that she could finally taste a hint of the thick, decadent juice that had come with the maraschino cherry. “I had no idea that Brad was going to be here,” she said, all sweetness and cluelessness.

“Right,” Dani said.

“As if you didn’t know he got divorced recently,” Leigh added.

He was the only guy Margot had connected with in a half-serious way. Okay, the relationship had lasted only about three months, during a summer when he’d taken off from Cal-U and interned on a local dairy near Chico, where she’d been staying with a cousin during break. But he’d lit her teenage fire on more than one occasion.

What she’d give for a little of that fire now.

She glanced around to see if any of her classmates had noticed she was here yet.

Dani cleared her throat. “Riley told me he heard Brad’s going to break away from work this weekend. He’ll be here, all right.”

Leigh waggled her eyebrows. “You plan to have a special mark on your basket so he can bid on it?”

“A burst of gold and silver stars.” Margot smiled at the waitress as she brought the new round of drinks.

Leigh murmured, “A burst of stars, just like he’ll see after Margot—”

She cut Leigh off. “When did Riley say Brad was coming, Dan?”

“I think he’s here already, playing golf with Riley and some of the guys before things really get started.”

Everyone would be here by tomorrow for the homecoming football game, then a casual meal and the auction, followed on Sunday by a more formal dinner before they all headed off in their different directions again.

Leigh leaned back in the booth, surveying Margot. “Honestly, I never really saw Brad’s appeal. He always reminded me of the type of guy who checks himself out in windows when he walks by them. He was kind of self-involved, if you ask me.”

“He was not.” He was smart and ambitious, going places. Margot had related to that. Plus, he’d been in the area, and they’d gotten to know each other without all their Greek brothers and sisters around.

Dani was leaning her elbows on the table, looking at Leigh. “I never thought Brad was that hot, either.”

Hot?

The word conjured up a maddening image of Clint Barrows. That damn video had shoved him into her mind and was making him stay there beyond a decent hello. God, she hoped he wouldn’t be at the reunion.

Margot took another drink, as if she could wash him away.

Dani started to slide out of the booth. “Don’t hate me, but I’m really bushed, you all. I catered a big fortieth birthday party last night. Can we meet up later?”

When Margot started to protest, Leigh stood to leave, too. “Don’t hate me, but I’ve got a script to look over and approve tonight so we can hit the ground running at the studio on Monday.”

“Lightweights,” Margot muttered. She wasn’t nearly ready to hole up in her room yet, even if her classmates would soon be here to tease her about the video.

Bring them on.

Leigh seemed impressed. “You’re actually staying here?”

“To face the lions when they arrive? You’d better believe it. I want to get this over with. Besides, if Brad’s already in town, he might drop in for a post-golf drink.”

“Okay, Braveheart.” Leigh smiled. “How about dinner with us later?”

“No doubt.”

Dani just grinned again, swinging her small, patchwork purse over her shoulder. They both waved as they walked away, and it wasn’t four seconds later that Margot started rethinking this Braveheart stuff.

Did she really want to suffer through the ribbing all alone?

But it wasn’t in her nature to wimp out, so she took another drink.

A deep voice behind her made her almost spray the Midori out of her mouth.

“I’ve always wondered what’d be in your basket.”

She knew that voice, even years later.

Clint Freakin’ Barrows.


2

INEXPLICABLY, A DELICIOUS shiver danced up Margot’s back, just like fingers running over bare skin then stopping at her neck, stroking until the fine hairs stood on heated end. And that wasn’t the only part of her body that responded; she went tight nearly everywhere, from her sensitized nipples to the clenching of her belly.

She also felt a sharp ache between her legs, but she chased it away.

She blew out a breath, wishing her stomach wasn’t all scrambled. Then she turned around to find the one and only Clint Barrows leaning off the edge of the bench seat, his arms resting on his thighs, his cowboy hat tipped back on his head.

A slow melt started inside her as she took in his grin. This wasn’t the college kid she remembered. Not exactly. The Clint Barrows who’d lured her to his room that one night had been cute—no doubts there—but now?

Now he had shoulders this wide under his white T-shirt. And his thighs hadn’t been so muscular under faded jeans. And there was some age to him—smile lines around his light blue eyes and hair that seemed to be an even thicker golden mess under his hat.

Like a fine bourbon, he’d aged well.

Damn him for looking so good. Damn her for feeling a little dizzy just from standing near him.

How...after all these years...?

And, after what he’d done?

“You’ve got some gall,” she said.

He laughed. “Because I’m saying hi?”

She just stared at him. Talk about thickheaded.

“Darlin’,” he said, clearly knowing that she was talking about the video. “Don’t go accusing me of anything. First off, I don’t have the time to be digging through old videos and sharing them with the world. Second, I destroyed that tape.”

“Well, then, I guess it magically came to life again and found itself a cozy home on YouTube. You’re in the clear, Stud.”

He laughed once more, smooth and low, and her clit gave a vicious little twist.

Oh, come on—she hadn’t gone without a man that long. Or maybe she had. Now that she thought about it, it’d been months. She’d been locked away, pounding out a draft of her most recent book, which had given her more trouble than most. The wildness and joy just didn’t come as easily as it used to. Maybe that’s why her book sale numbers were going down....

She lifted a finger at him. “If you’re not here to rub that video in, then why did you show up? I didn’t think reunions would be your scene.”

“Just call it a last-minute decision.”

Cryptic, and so Clint Barrows. And with that grin of his, she wanted to solve whatever mystery he was putting out there.

Or did she?

“Come on,” he said. “Why don’t you just sit down and talk about this.”

“Are you kidding? First, I don’t believe your story. Second, I think we’ll get along much better if I’m on one side of the room and you’re on the other.”

He sighed. “Have it your way, then. For now.”

For now?

Shaking her head, she grabbed her Fendi purse and got out the hand-worked leather wallet she’d bought in Florence once upon a time. Earlier, she’d told the girls she would be taking care of the bar tab, even though she wasn’t sure she could afford many flights of generosity like this in the future.

“So about those baskets...” Clint said.

Once a tease, always a tease.

“Don’t even start.”

“Start what? If you recall, there’re things I start that you have a problem ending.”

“See? Rubbing it in. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

“Give me a chance here, Shakespeare.”

Her libido gave another hot jerk. She’d liked how he used to call her English author names the few times they’d actually talked during parties. He’d amused her—and she’d been turned on that a cowboy had known his literature, to tell the truth.

But that was before she’d found out he’d only wanted to set her up for an adolescent joke.

“You think this is all so funny,” she said.

He sobered and, for a second, she thought he was actually being sincere.

“I don’t think it’s a bit funny. But—”

She slapped her cash on the table and left, even while every cell in her body was pulling her toward his booth, vibrating with the curiosity she hadn’t been able to fully appease on that long-ago night.

But if there was one thing Margot would guard until the end, it was pride.

Luckily, that’s when she heard her name being called from the other side of the bar.

A group of fraternity brothers, including Dani’s fiancé, Riley, had just walked in, and she recognized her ex-boyfriend Brad among them.

Or, at least, she thought she did.

He looked like one of the businessmen at the bar—creased khakis and a crisp, long-sleeved shirt. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, unlike a certain cowboy’s that looked as if he turned tail and ran every time a barber came near.

Brad lifted a hand in greeting to her, giving her a friendly smile. He didn’t seem to care about the video. None of them did, maybe because Riley had told them to back off during their golf game.

Margot waved back, then waited for the rush of heat to swamp her horny body, just as it had with Clint.

Waiting...

Waiting...

It only happened again when she heard Clint’s voice behind her.

“You’d best go to Brad,” he said. “Good ol’ dependable Brad....”

She felt Brad watching her from across the room, and she didn’t want to give him the impression that she was taking up where she’d left off in that video with Clint Barrows.

“You can walk away now,” Clint said. “But I’ll be seeing you later.”

“Dare to dream,” she said over her shoulder.

And she left him with that, his laughter skimming across her skin, heating her to blazing for no good reason she could think of.

Except for the million and one tongues of flame licking at her, daring her to turn around and scratch the itch that’d never quite gone away.

* * *

CLINT WATCHED HER leave, enjoying the sway of her hips beneath her tight pants, which were tucked into high boots, giving her the kind of flair you’d normally see with a hoity-toity princess out for a ride on an English saddle.

He’d always been a legs and ass man and, thanks to those clothes, both were on cock-teasing display with Margot Walker.

She got to him in a lot of ways, with her long, layered dark brown hair that was somehow classy and gypsylike at the same time. With pale sea-hued eyes that always seemed to be shining with a sense of humor that also came out in her carefree laugh. Her delicate features—a slightly turned-up nose, high cheekbones, a heart-shaped face—reminded him of one of the wood fairy figurines that his mom used to keep on the top shelf in the family room. Statues that had stayed there even years after she’d died, when Clint was just learning to break in horses.

Dignified, delicate, yet slightly wild. That was Margot Walker to a T.

Something fisted in his gut, reminding him of how much he’d wanted her ten years ago. The smart girl who knew how to put down the books and have fun. The life of every party, who lit up a room just by walking into it.

And that was the exact reason he’d been over the moon when she’d come up to his room with him that night.

The thing of it was, he’d genuinely been aiming to watch a movie with her, since they’d been chatting about The Untouchables down at the party and he’d owned a copy.

Her willingness to be alone with him had stunned him, because Margot had always seemed untouchable herself, the only girl who never gave him the time of day...until she’d let down her guard in his room.

At first, he’d sat a decent distance from her on that Naugahyde couch. But, slowly, they’d gotten closer, as if attraction had pulled them together like magnets. And by the time Kevin Costner and Andy Garcia went to the train station to intercept a witness for their case against Al Capone, his gaze was on Margot, not the screen.

And she had been watching him, too, with a softness in her eyes he’d never seen before.

“God help you if you tell anyone about this,” she said before they’d come together.

He’d never been swept away by a girl before, but this one night, it’d happened. And as they kissed—her breath in his ear as she whispered his name—he’d thought that this was it. Margot Walker was the one woman who could make him think there was no one else, just as his dad had thought the same about his mom when they were both alive.

Then, unbeknownst to him, she’d seen the camera, and before he could ask what had gotten her so upset, she’d slapped him, pulled her shirt together, angry as hell, and bolted out of the room without telling him what was wrong.

As confused as he was, he hadn’t gone after her.

And he hadn’t noticed the camera hidden in the corner.

Soon afterward, he’d gone back down to the party to see if she was still there, but she’d left him in the dust, wondering what he’d done.

It wasn’t until the next morning, when his roommate, Jay Halverson, the fraternity historian, couldn’t hold it in any longer, that he found out what’d happened: Jay had seen Clint downstairs, making inroads with the one girl who’d always eluded him. He’d bet that Clint would pull through and bring her back to his room and that the moment should be recorded for the brotherhood’s posterity.

Clint’s blood had been boiling, but when Jay had cued up the video and shown it to him, they’d come to blows. As collateral damage, the video was decimated, smashed to pieces.

But it didn’t matter, because Jay had already made a copy and had given it to some of his friends to watch.

Of course, Margot had sent Clint an email about it that night but he hadn’t seen the message until after the fight with Jay. The content was curt and crisp, barely hiding the hurt that he knew she must’ve felt. He’d written back that he’d destroyed the tape, leaving out the part where Jay had actually been the one who’d filmed her. But she never answered.

Especially after the video made its way from the TV of one fraternity member to the next.

The copy was never found and, for more reasons than the video, Jay was eventually blackballed. But that didn’t give Clint another chance with Margot. It didn’t make him forget her, either, as he ran the cutting horse ranch he loved just a half hour away from Avila Grande, California, and their alma mater.

As he sat in that booth now, watching her walk to Brad, he thought how sad it was that he’d actually come to understand why Margot had reacted the way she did: she didn’t intend to be just an item on a list, or a person a man would forget when he moved on to the next girl. She’d never been merely one of the crowd, and she’d gone out and proved it to the world with that sophisticated career of hers.

And she hadn’t wanted to be the fool, caught on tape as Clint “conquered” her.

Who would?

Seeing her today, a disturbingly hot woman who grabbed him and twisted him inside out, Clint was fascinated all over again. Not that she’d given him the chance to explain, but he’d come to this reunion for one reason and one reason only.

To set matters straight and make it up to her.

He hadn’t planned on coming, not when there was so much going on with his younger twin brothers and the ranch. But when he’d been told the video had found new life on YouTube, he’d blown a gasket, immediately sending an email to his fraternity brothers saying that if they razzed Margot about it this weekend, they’d answer to him.

So far, it looked like they were respecting his requests. Margot stood at the bar with Brad Harrington, laughing and pushing a hank of that stylish gypsy hair away from her face. She was saying hi to the group that had just walked into the dark-wooded room. From this distance, it was pretty obvious that Brad was being amiable enough, but...

Could it be that he wasn’t really in to her?

Nah. Clint couldn’t imagine a red-blooded male anywhere within the boundaries of the U.S. of A. who wouldn’t be eating up her charms.

As Clint toyed with his shot glass, one man broke away from the crowd and moved toward the booth. Clint nodded in greeting to Riley Donahue, then stood to shake his hand just as the waitress came with the other whiskies he’d ordered.

“Took you long enough to get here,” Clint said.

“We were having too much fun. You should’ve come with us.”

“Golf’s not my game.” Again, he stole a glance at Margot, who’d taken a seat on a bar stool and was leaning toward Brad. From here, he could see her sweater gaping open, revealing a gut-punching hint of black bra. Her breasts were round and full, pressed into smooth globes by the tight lace.

He could feel himself getting hard, and he pulled his gaze away. “How’s the life of a happy bachelor?” he asked Riley instead.

Riley, who’d also pledged with Clint and become a good friend, ran a hand through his short black hair. “Happy? I guess you must not have heard the news.”

He wasn’t talking about getting married, seeing as Riley and Dani had been engaged for about a year. They’d been friends until they’d “awakened,” or some such greeting-card crap, one day and really “seen” each other.

Fairy tales, Clint thought. His parents had had a lot of great years together, but it’d just never happened for him. Then again, it wasn’t as if he’d ever wanted to settle down. He’d grown up as a lone wolf while his brothers had depended on each other, forming their own inner circle and keeping him out, and he’d been the same way with everyone else, especially women.

The true love of his life had always been the ranch—a paradise invaded by twin snakes, aka his own flesh-and-blood siblings. Funny how he’d found much better brothers, like Riley, away at college.

Clint made himself comfortable in the booth. “Oh, I’ve certainly heard the news. I’ve already heard more than I bargained for about the auction.”

Margot telling Dani and Leigh about her basket... The sparkly stars that would be a sure sign that it was hers...

But she meant the damn thing for someone else, so why was he even dwelling on it?

Because there are definitely at least eighty ways you could get around her, he thought. And he could guarantee that she enjoyed every one of them, making up lost time with her.

Saying sorry about that tape in every way he could.

Riley spoke, his voice edged with mild frustration. “The guys were all over me about this auction when we were playing golf. I guess the girls’ email loop got everyone talking before we got here and Dani didn’t know it. Nothing like finding out that everyone is swimming in your personal business. I damn well hope Dani put an end to it this afternoon.”

“From what I hear, the girls just want Dani to have that wedding she always planned for. No harm, no foul.”

“I already feel like shit that I can’t give that wedding to Dani myself, and to have us turn into some kind of charity case...?” He shook his head.

From what Clint had overheard, Dani hadn’t asked Margot and Leigh to call off the auction. But—

Sparkling stars... Around the Girl in Eighty Ways...

Riley interrupted. “Ever since I heard about that auction, I’ve wanted to tell Dani that I’d rather elope to a Vegas chapel. But then I think about how much she’s always talked about the dress with one of those long trains or whatever they call it, and how she wants things to happen in a big church with a big reception, and...I just lose the words.”

Clint signaled for yet another round. Riley sure looked like he needed it. Honestly, Clint could use some more drinks, too, because every time he glanced at Margot across the room canoodling with Brad, he felt a keen urge to water down.

“What’re you going to tell Dani, then?” Clint asked. “I think the sisters who keep in touch on email are looking forward to this auction.”

And he was, too?

But that was idiotic, because that basket of Margot’s was aimed at Brad. Plus, she wanted Clint on one side of the room and her on another.

He was damned sure going to change her mind about that.

Riley blew out a breath. “I know Margot and Leigh went to a lot of work. Everyone who brought a basket did, and their intentions are good.”

“Then let everyone play. You can tell the sisters that you’re not taking a dime and the proceeds can go to a charity.”

Riley’s head jerked up, and he looked at Clint as if he were a genius. Yeah, well, he would be about the only one to think that.

But Clint wasn’t here to dwell on the troubles back on the ranch, not when he was among people who’d been even closer to him for a time than his own family. He hadn’t ever thought that his relationship with the twins could get worse, except it had, a couple years ago, when Dad had passed on and split up his estate, giving Clint 60 percent of the cutting horse ranch and Jeremiah and Jason each 20 percent. It made all the sense in the world to Clint, who’d come back home after getting his agriculture business degree and developed the Circle BBB, while the twins had opted for the city and an agriculture development firm they’d built from the ground up.

Things never changed, and the twins still stuck together like glue. According to them, Clint didn’t know what he was doing with the ranch, even though he ran a solid and profitable operation. But, with their business experience “out in the world,” they thought they knew better.

“Why don’t you just drink on this auction business,” he said to Riley, raising his shot glass.

They slammed back their whisky, then bolted their glasses to the table.

As the waitress slid another round to them and left, Clint’s gaze inevitably fixed on Margot again. By now, she was resting her hand on Brad’s arm as they shared another joke.

Clint threw back the newest shot. He kept telling himself Brad was his fraternity brother. Brad was making her laugh when she needed it, which was more than Clint had accomplished earlier.

Riley was rolling up his sleeves, as if acknowledging it was going to be a long-ass reunion weekend. Then he noticed the direction of Clint’s gaze, and he followed it out the booth and over his shoulder, spying Margot.

He turned back to Clint, holding back a grin. “Got your email about the video this morning. Still have some feelings for her?”

“Not even a speck.” He was pissed that it was so obvious. “I just figured it’d be proper to do some damage control for her sake.”

“Right.” Riley fiddled with his glass. “Was Jay the one who posted that video?”

“It appears so. He runs his family’s farm now, so I got a hold of him there. He took the video down already.”

“Did you threaten to cuff him again?”

“No. I just did what my brothers do and I threw a few legal words around. That did the trick.”

“Why’d he even post it?”

“He said it was his contribution to the reunion, but you remember Jay well enough. He was bitter after we blackballed him for not paying dues and—”

“In general being a douche bag.”

“That, too.” Clint pushed his glass away. “Him posting the video was nothing against Margot, but it sure feels personal.”

Riley paused, making Clint shift in his seat. No use lying about how interested he still was in Margot.

“Just a warning,” Riley said. “Dani will even tell you that Margot is still as hard to get as ever.”

Now Clint’s pride was poked, and dammit, it’d been happening too much lately for him to tolerate it.

“She may be hard to get,” he said, “but not impossible.”

“Good luck, after what happened last night with the video.”

“She’ll put it behind her.”

“Whoa. Is that a challenge I hear?”

Clint smiled, then jerked his chin toward the bar. Margot sat right next to Brad, arm to arm.

God.

He glanced away, not wanting to watch, but clearly unable to help himself.

“Not that I want to encourage you,” Riley said, “because I think she’s a lost cause, but Brad doesn’t seem all that interested in her. I remember way back when he dated Margot that summer and it didn’t work out.”

Clint’s smile was back. “Why do you think that was?”

“You know Brad. His parents were conservative as hell and raised him to marry a girl who’d be a good wife. Margot was just a fling while he was interning far from home and both of them probably knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. Besides, he got divorced a few months ago, and he’s a long way from dating anyone again.” Riley picked up his next glass. “But if your mind is set on Margot, I’ll be your wingman. Dani knows that you’re not really the guy with the bad reputation you got because of some college joke. I don’t know why you never stressed to Margot that Jay was behind it all.”

“Wouldn’t have done any good. She’d already written me off.”

“So why do you think things will change now?”

“Just a hunch.”

Clint glanced at the ill-fated couple. Brad leaned his elbow on the bar instead of canting toward Margot, his disinterest clearer than shiny glass.

Maybe things would work out, he thought.

Maybe he would get to make everything up to her.


3

SO FAR, EVERYONE had treated the subject of the video as if it was no big deal, and that gave Margot quite the shot of joy. Why had she even been worried? They were all way past college mischief.

But she couldn’t ignore how some of the brothers, as well as Brad, kept glancing over at Clint. Even if they weren’t teasing her about that video, it was on everyone’s mind.

Just one more reason to avoid him.

She’d actually been working up to telling Brad about her basket for the past hour, but things were still a little haven’t-seen-you-in-a-long-time tense between them. Still, he hadn’t dropped any hints about having a girlfriend or anything.

So why not go forward?

She ran a gaze from his wavy dark brown hair to his smile. He’d always reminded her of Ben Affleck but much less cocksure...unlike another person she could name.

But she wasn’t going to think of Kid Quick-Trigger on the other side of the room, in his booth, drinking whiskey. Mr. I’m-So-Cool-in-a-Cowboy-Hat. Señor Slick. She’d been telling herself to ignore Clint Barrows over and over, but this time she meant it.

Brad set his beer down on the bar. It was still half-full. “It really is good to see you, Margot.”

Did she hear a “but...” in there somewhere?

“I liked seeing you, too,” she said. “Catching up has been nice.”

Was nice the word for the conversation they’d been having about running a dairy farm?

Then again, was her auction basket all about the art of conversation?

He fiddled with his beer mug for a moment, then said, “Some of us are getting up early tomorrow to go fishing. Don’t ask me why we torture ourselves like this.”

“Why do you?” She smiled, hoping to get past this semi-awkward stage and right to the basket.

“Because that’s what we used to do,” he said. “Fish. Golf. Be sportsmen.” He checked his silver watch, then got out his wallet to pay the bar tab. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the homecoming pregame kegger?”

He was...leaving?

Margot’s Girl Survival Mode kicked into gear, telling her this was a bad time to blurt out that, hey, she’d really like to spend some private, quality sex time with him, and by the way, here’s what her basket would look like tomorrow evening at the auction, because she really, truly thought they could have quite the reunion all by themselves.

One more adventure, right?

But, ever since she’d gotten the news from her publisher, she’d started to wonder if, after college, she had set out to have adventures on her own only because experiences filled a hole that’d been put there by never having a true home. Had she been trying to find one by going from place to place, person to person, just as her parents had before they’d passed on eight years ago?

And...her parents. It’s not like they’d taught her about a whole lot besides “loving life” and “smelling the roses along the primrose path.” Sometimes, she even wondered if they’d loved her half as much as all their pleasure-seeking activities. One time, they had even turned a room in the two-bedroom house they’d been renting into an art studio for their projects, and she’d had to sleep on the couch. She’d been eight.

The thoughts dogged her, even as she started to get the vibe that things weren’t gelling with Brad.

He rested a companionable hand on her shoulder and squeezed it, then started to leave the bar. “See you later, Marg.”

As he left, she tried not to let hurt set in. She was usually much better at this, distancing herself before anyone could do it to her first.

She just sat there as he disappeared, wondering why Brad’s attitude didn’t hurt more.

She decided to go, too, and she thought she felt Clint’s gaze tracking her out the door. Then it occurred to her... Even though Brad hadn’t teased her about the video, had it made him look at her differently?

As used goods, viewed by hundreds of people sitting in front of a computer?

It didn’t matter anyway, because she’d blown her chance to tell Brad about her basket so he could bid on it.

On her way into the lobby, she came to a dead stop. What was with her? She’d always taken charge. It was what a single girl did.

At least, the type she used to be.

Full of determination, she went to the reception desk, asked for paper and an envelope, then scribbled a note, since the clerk wouldn’t release a room number that she could call.



Brad,

I didn’t get the chance to broach the subject, but I’d love to get together before the weekend’s over. If you’re interested, you could always bid on the basket with the silver and gold stars attached to the handle. It might bring back a few adventurous memories...or make a few new ones.



It wasn’t like her to hesitate, but she definitely did when she reread that last part.

Ah, screw it. Adventure!

She signed her name, stuffed the note into the hotel envelope, then generously tipped the concierge and asked him to deliver it to Brad. She liked this much more mysterious way to approach him rather than just calling him up. It was part of the basket’s seduction.

Feeling much better, she took a detour outside to the parking lot, to her Prius, where her bags were still in the trunk. She had arrived before her room was ready and met Leigh and Dani right after checking in.

The night was mid-October-crisp, with the scent of wood smoke in the air. Avila Grande, home of Cal-U, was near Route 99, and she could hear the faint swish of cars traveling along it. In high school, she’d loved John Steinbeck’s work—what could she say about the streak of Americana in her?—and when Cal-U had offered her a scholarship for their fledgling English program, she’d snapped it up.

But being here now felt a little lonely, and she tried not to sink into the mire of her thoughts again—the voice of her literary agent telling her that it didn’t look likely that she would be picked up by her publishing house anytime in the near future. She fought back the looming question of where her paychecks would be coming from after her royalties dried up and her savings had been gutted.

This weekend was supposed to be about Dani, but maybe also about thinking of a new direction for herself, right? So why wasn’t she feeling brave?

When she heard boot steps on the pavement, she slammed down her trunk and set her bags on the blacktop. She’d taken Krav Maga, and she was always ready to use it.

“Whoa,” said a familiar male voice that made shivers sweep up and down her skin.

She went tight all over again—in her belly, then lower, until she got a little wet at the sight of a lamp-lit Clint Barrows in that cowboy hat, snug T-shirt and jeans.

Wonderful, faded, leg-hugging jeans....

“I saw you go out of the hotel by yourself,” he said. “It’s not exactly a concrete jungle out here, but it’s dark.”

He’d taken off his hat, the illumination making his hair look golden and so thick that it conjured naughty thoughts about that night all those years ago. Hot, dizzy, breath-stealing thoughts. Her mind went even further, and she pictured him kissing his way down her neck, her chest...lower, until he made his way across her stomach and then...

Her pulse was thudding in all the places she’d just pictured, as if his mouth was actually on her, driving her wild.

“Why’re you really out here?” she asked, cooling herself off, making a show of corralling her luggage—which she did quite easily all on her own. A girl never traveled with more than she could handle.

As she headed back to the hotel, pulling her suitcase behind her, she walked closer to him. He was leaning back against what had to be his truck—a comfortable, beat-up blue Dodge—and he’d rested his hat on top of the cab, his thumbs hooked into his belt loops.

“I’m going to tell you my side of the story,” he said. “Maybe not out here, maybe not at the kegger tomorrow, but you’ll know it before the weekend comes to a close. And you’ll know how much I regret what happened.”

The soft rumble of her suitcase wheels went silent as she stopped just past him. “How could you regret it? You’re the one who came off looking like a stud. I came off looking like something...rented.”

She hadn’t meant to say that much, but it’d come out, anyway.

His voice was low and, again, seemingly genuine. “I’m truly sorry about that, Margot.”

She didn’t like the way he said her name. Or, more to the point, she did like it. Way too much.

She turned to him, chin a notch higher than usual. “So what do you want to tell me? That Jay Halverson was behind all the camera stuff back in college? Because I’ve heard it all from Riley over the years.”

“And you didn’t believe him.”

She only shrugged. She didn’t owe him the truth.

Had she started to enjoy thinking he was the bad guy? Did it give her some kind of excuse to stay away?

His peace-offering grin stroked over her, and her heart lost a beat.

She girded herself. “Next thing you know, you’ll be telling me that Jay posted that video last night.”

“He did.”

Okay, then. Mystery solved. “I guess that settles the score.”

She started to leave.

“Not so fast.” He’d lowered his voice to a sexy timbre, making her wonder why the hell she had her sights set on Brad, who was already in his room.

But she knew the answer. Brad was a known quantity, and maybe she needed someone safe this weekend, even as she imagined him part of some big adventure with her basket. Mild-mannered Brad had never broken her trust or given grist to the gossip mill with a video.

It’d bothered her more that her privacy had been violated, and especially that she’d been filmed with the playboy who’d had every other girl except her, it seemed.

Before she knew it, Clint had reached out, gently taking hold of her sweater, near the bottom. It gaped away from her body, the air like a caress, tickling her belly.

No, make that tickling her everywhere, especially in the last place she wanted Clint Barrows to be.

But she ached there, too, between her legs. Ached so badly.

He must’ve sensed that, because he tugged her closer. As the night breathed under the cashmere, she let go of her suitcase and stumbled toward him, close enough to smell the hay and clover on his clothing and skin.

The pure masculinity of him—the clean scent, the knowledge that there was muscle under his own shirt, so close, just a touch away—spiked desire through her.

“I’m going to make it all up to you,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.”

She swallowed at his bold comment. A melting, lazy pull of sensation stretched in her, creating friction until there were sparks flaring in her stomach.

“You can’t make up for what’s been done,” she said breathlessly.

He laughed, soft and low. “Sure I can. And in eighty ways, too.”

Great—he must’ve overheard what the tag would be on her auction offering.

She grabbed his hand and tried to pull it away from her sweater. “That basket’s not for you.”

She realized her mistake right away, because beneath her palm and fingers, his skin was well worked, manly, strong. The feel of it fired a need through her that she hadn’t realized was there, and it made her go even wetter for him.

“So you’re saving yourself for another man,” he said, twining his fingers through hers.

Oh, God, even such a simple connection sent the adrenaline racing through her, awakening her completely.

“Margot,” he said softly. “You’re being real difficult about this when it should be so easy.”

But it wasn’t. Not even close. Giving in to Clint Barrows was unthinkable at a reunion where everyone was just waiting for him to finally nail the one girl who’d slipped through his fingers.

Still, when he slid his other hand to her hip, massaging it with his thumb, she almost gave in.

She’d had too much to drink, she told herself. And she’d been lonely for the first time in her life because she was facing things she’d never faced before. All of that added up to a vulnerable Margot, and when he moved his hand to her backside, cupping her derriere, she sucked in a harsh breath.

“Just hear me out,” he said.

Yes. It was on the tip of her tongue. It was screaming in her head, pulling her toward him even as she tried to stay away.

But it wasn’t going to happen, because she still had a little something called pride.

“I’ve listened enough,” she said.

She stepped away and grabbed her suitcase handle again, the wheels reverberating over the blacktop just as loudly as an unexpected, almost overwhelming hunger rumbled through her.

* * *

BY THE NEXT morning, Margot hadn’t heard from Brad, and she told herself that it was still early—they had plenty of time before the auction.

And it wasn’t as if she was depending on him for the best good time ever, anyway. She’d had pretty decent fun last night after she’d unpacked her suitcase, then met Leigh and Dani again in the café, where they’d caught up with other sisters who had offered solace about the video. That hadn’t surprised Margot, because everyone but the biggest prudes had backed her up years ago when the first one had gone public.

Naturally, Margot had done her best to avoid the questions about future books and how well her sales were doing, all the while wondering if the concierge had gotten ahold of Brad yet with the “this is what my basket looks like” note and its less-than-subtle invitation to bid on it.

But there’d been some moments last night—a lot of them, actually—when she’d found her mind on someone else.

The cowboy with the cocky grin.

The man who’d used his sexy voice in the parking lot as if he were fully confident she was going to succumb to his supposedly irresistible charm.

Right.

She rolled out of bed, the digital clock on the nightstand blazing 9:00 a.m. in the dim room, darkened by the pulled heavy curtains. And when she glanced at the phone, the message light was dark, too, staring back at her blankly.

No calls.

But dammit all if she was going to bug the concierge by asking him if he’d even delivered the note to Brad.

Jeez, now she was wondering if it’d been such a good idea in the first place....

At least Leigh had told her last night that her note was a perfect prologue to her basket. Very old-school. And, hey, what guy wouldn’t be interested in that kind of message?

Margot cracked the curtains, squinting at the sunlight. She smiled when she saw the wide tomato fields and the pine trees lining the nearby open road.

Unfortunately, her gaze then went to the parking lot, where she saw Clint Barrows’s faded blue Dodge truck lounging next to her little Prius.

Why did it seem as if even his pickup was ready to devour her car?

Rubbing her arms, she wandered to the bathroom, turning on the shower, stripping off her long nightshirt. The second the heated mist whispered over her skin, she tightened with goose bumps, imagining that she heard a voice, soft and low, whispering quiet apologies to her.

Clint Barrows’s apologies.

Just hear me out, he’d said last night in the parking lot, when she’d known he meant so much more.

She stepped into the shower, hoping the water would wash her into a sane place. But as it sluiced over her, she imagined his hand on her hip, just like last night when he’d been bold enough to touch her.

Yet, now, there were no clothes between them, and as she closed her eyes, the uninterrupted flutter of water against her became his fingers, and she felt them ease to her belly, a fleeting butterfly touch.

You’re being real difficult about this when it should be so easy....

She leaned forward, bracing her hands against the tile wall. The water gently ran down her body, slipping over her thighs, in between her legs.

Wantonly, she opened them a little, loving the sensation as it skimmed over her clit.

The water became his fingers again, finding just the right spot, her breath quickening right along with her heartbeat.

You used to be a risk taker, she heard him tell her, as if they were talking again. The butterfly wings on her body traveled inward, beating in her belly, electric and tickling, making her bite her lip.

So why’re you set on safe, boring Brad?

Why not go for this new direction?

She took her hand from the wall, trailed it between her breasts, down her stomach to her pulsing center. Sliding her fingers through her cleft, she massaged herself, thinking of Clint.

At least, with Brad, they’d had a summer together. And when they’d returned to college, after the bloom had faded off their little affair, they had floated away from each other, going different ways.

It’d all been perfectly safe with Brad, just as it could be this weekend. No deception, no videos.

But, as she touched herself, the water caressing her, the mere thought of that unpredictability sent a jolt through her, making her breath catch.

Wet. Excited. And every time she circled her clit with her thumb, imagining that it was Clint touching her, her temperature rose. The heat pushed her up, up, tighter and tighter, until a tiny series of impending explosions quivered in her.

She fought the first one, pressing herself forward against the wall....

Then the second, as it rolled through her, shake by contained shake....

But the third—

She started to give in to it for the first time in months, slipping down the wall as blasts of sensation seized her, making her gasp just before she let go with one long, hard inhale...then...

As the water ran over her—just water now—she groaned, aching.

Still aching.

And hardly knowing just what it was anymore that she really wanted.


4

AFTER THE PREGAME party and the homecoming football match itself, the reunion moved to Main Street, to the back room of Dani’s favorite hangout in Avila Grande.

Desperado’s was one of those country joints that was marked by the smell of hops and fried food every time you walked through its swinging doors and hit the planked floor. On the walls above the bar were deer antlers, a buffalo head and a menu that showcased Rocky Mountain Oysters—a dish that Dani didn’t have the stomach for once Leigh and Margot had told her that the name was actually a euphemism for bull-calf testicles.

Ah, yes, good old Desperado’s, where the Valley’s farm and ranch kids had hung out, where music had always been 100 percent country, the beer cheap and the food rugged and, as it turned out, disgusting.

But the moment Dani had strolled in with Riley tonight, greeted by the thud of hip-hop and the sight of undergrads doing everything but the two-step on the small dance floor, it was obvious things had changed.

“So it’s come to this,” Dani said as she and Riley left the main room and made their way through the slim lantern-lit corridor toward the back, where the auction was scheduled to start in an hour. “Desperado’s is now pure evil.”

“Evil?” Riley rested a hand on the back of her neck, cupping it. “Strong word, Dan.”

“Okay, maybe not evil, then. It’s just...” She motioned toward the dance floor and almost flinched at the loud music, which was making them raise their voices. “I miss how it used to be.”

He guided her to the side of the corridor. No one else was there right now—they were early. And when he leaned back against the wall, putting his hands on her jeaned hips, pulling her to him, her heart jittered. But it was always that way when she looked into Riley’s deep blue eyes.

“I don’t like it, either,” he said. “But things never stay the same. Not anywhere.”

“I guess I’m just getting old and cranky.” She’d also felt that way before the game, while walking around campus. Dressed in her old Cal-U sweatshirt against the fall chill in the air, she’d felt like a grandma next to all the students running around, their lives ahead of them as they dreamed of success. “Everything just seems so...corporate. Cal-U used to be small, homier. Now it’s—”

“Trendier than hell. I noticed.”

He bent forward, kissing her forehead, and they stayed like that for a few seconds, his breath stirring her hair, infiltrating her, just as it had ever since she’d glanced up one day on a sorority/fraternity reunion cruise five years ago that neither Leigh nor Margot had signed up for. That’s when she’d seen Riley giving her that look—one she’d never noticed before. It was the look of a friend who had apparently been thinking some extremely more-than-buddies thoughts without her even knowing it until that moment.

It had changed her world, changed her mind.

But it hadn’t changed either of them.

Or so she’d believed. It hadn’t occurred to her that change was everywhere except in her until last night, when Margot and Leigh had sprung this auction on her.

She held on to Riley, her hands wrapped in the bottom of his long, untucked shirt, cocooned there. After last night, she’d started wondering just how people perceived her—had always perceived her.

Was she someone in need of rescuing? A pitiful dreamy princess who’d been defined all her life by one goal and one goal only?

To be the ultimate bridezilla?

Just...wow. And, the thing was, Dani feared that her friends were right. What had she done with herself all these years besides get a job as lead caterer for someone else’s company? What true ambitions had she possessed?

She’d always looked up to Margot—and who hadn’t? Margot led the pack, getting them into trouble while watching over them at the same time. Dani loved her friend’s independence, her go-get-’em approach to life. And the same went for Leigh, who had overcome a tragic childhood filled with sadness after the accidental drowning of her sister. Leigh had also struggled with her weight when she was younger, but now she was as svelte as Margot and just as successful a businesswoman. And what was Dani?

Down the corridor, she heard a door close, and she caught a peek of Margot, dressed as stunningly as ever in what looked to be an Ann Taylor leather jacket, a pencil skirt and high boots as she made a beeline for the back room. She was carrying an iPad, probably to keep track of the baskets that had already been dropped off, and she didn’t see Dani and Riley as she disappeared.

Riley’s voice rumbled through his chest as he spoke. Dani could feel it while she pressed against him.

“Do you think Margot’s pissed after what you told her at the game?” he asked.

“Not pissed. Disappointed, I’d say.” After Dani and Riley had talked this whole auction thing over last night, they’d decided that Margot and Leigh could still hold the event—it just wouldn’t be for their wedding. Instead, he had suggested a charity that fed the homeless in Avila Grande.

“She’ll get over it,” Riley said.

“I’m sure she’s already knee-deep in the excitement of tonight.” But, still, Dani had seen disappointment in both Margot’s and Leigh’s eyes this afternoon. They clearly hadn’t believed her when she’d told them that it didn’t matter how she and Riley got married—a small ceremony, an elopement. Whatever. She and Riley had been together for long enough that marriage was only a piece of paper to them.

Or maybe Dani had just been saying this so often that she believed it. And Riley, being Riley, hadn’t pushed her on the subject too hard. He’d heard enough stories about the curveball her parents had thrown her just before she and Riley had gotten together. Married thirty-seven years, obviously just pretending to be happy, then boom.

Divorce. Because of a cheating dad.

As if knowing what had entered her thoughts again, Riley stroked her curls away from her face. Patient, wonderful Riley, who’d waited around long enough for her to finally start planning a wedding after the fallout from her mom and dad.

“Is Margot excited because she thinks Brad is going to bid on her basket?” he asked, knowing just how to change a subject.

Dani smiled up at him. “No doubt. It’s strange, though, because never in a million years would I think that a woman of experience like Margot would be in to a garden-variety type like Brad these days.”





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