Snowbound Bride

“That’s true.” Sam planted a hand against the wall on either side of her. “But not everyone takes off in their wedding dress in the midst of what will soon be a blizzard—”

Nora interrupted hotly, in self-defense. “I didn’t know it was going to snow!”

Sam looked down at her as if he found that very hard to swallow. He shook his head wordlessly and leaned in even closer. “How could you not have known that?” he asked, very, very softly, the heat of his body emanating to hers.

Nora flushed and responded wryly, “Because, Mr. I-Gotta-Have-All-the-Answers, I wasn’t listening to the weather reports this morning, or last night, for that matter!”

“Why not?” His voice was hushed, seductive, his breath warm on her skin, as he placed his hands on the bare curves of her shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

Nora ignored the sensual feeling of his palms on her bare skin. They were slightly chapped and callused, as though he knew firsthand the value of hard physical work, but tender, too, as if he knew how to love. Irritated with herself—after all, she had no business thinking like that!—Nora shook off the sensual image of her body, in his hands.

“Because I had a ton of other important things to do!” she answered, with a regal toss of her head. “I had to get up early and shower and go to the hairdresser, and then over to the church, to dress and get my official wedding portrait done.” She stopped and bit her lip, aware that he was suddenly looking very much as though he wanted to do a whole lot more than simply hold her in front of him. He wanted to kiss her! Not just once, but probably again and again and again!

Sam grinned and lifted a skeptical golden-brown brow. “Are you saying the rest of your wedding party didn’t know it was going to snow, either?”

“Maybe not.” Nora swallowed around the sudden tightness of her throat. Looking deep into Sam’s eyes, she could almost believe he wanted only to help her. “After all, the snowstorm is not supposed to hit Pi—uh…” She made a strangled sound, as she realized she’d inadvertently said far too much, and cut herself off in midsentence.

“Pittsburgh?” Sam supplied, his hands following the curve of her shoulders and caressing her bare arms.

Nora glared at him defiantly and tried to ignore the enticing scent that was him. “What makes you think the wedding was supposed to take place in Pittsburgh?”

“The license plates on your car,” Sam replied, looking so abruptly earnest and helpful and forth right, it was all she could do not to melt into the warmth of his embrace.

“Also,” he said frankly, “the geography fits. If the wedding was supposed to take place sometime this morning, as I am guessing it was, you had time to drive from Pittsburgh down to West Virginia. You did not have time to drive from, say, New York City to West Virginia since this morning.”

She stared at him, the concern on his face unnerving her more than she wanted to admit. “You noticed the plates on my car?” she asked, feeling the color drain from her face. That meant he could trace her origins quicker than she could say “One-two-three.” And from there go directly to her father and Geoff!

Sam shrugged and, dropping his hands from her shoulders, stepped back slightly. “I’m a lawman,” he explained matter-of-factly. “I’m trained to notice everything.”

And that seemed to go triple where she was concerned, Nora thought, her insides in explicably heating all the more.

Nora sighed. Maybe this initial mix-up wasn’t as bad as she’d thought—especially if it kept her from being traced back to her father and Geoff. She studied Sam. “You don’t think I’m engaged to your brother,” she stated, rather than asked.

“You know I don’t,” Sam replied with a seductive half grin.

“Why not?” Nora demanded, shocked to find things suddenly going her way. Or were they? “Everyone else does.”

Sam shrugged his impossibly broad shoulders and kept his eyes on hers. “You’re not his type,” Sam said, in a very low, very definite tone of voice.

His confidence in his ability to analyze and understand her was supremely irritating, as was the way she melted at his slightest touch or look. Nora cautioned herself to keep her defenses up or suffer the consequences.

“Oh, really.” Nora bristled at the sexy stranger who was fast proving to be her nemesis. “Then whose type am I?” she demanded archly.

Sam hooked an arm about her waist and pulled her into the tantalizing warmth of his embrace. “Mine.”

Chapter Three

“YOU’RE NOT JUST NOSY,” Nora sputtered. “You’re nuts!”

Sam grinned victoriously, his hot glance skimming her from head to toe. “Can I help it if I know what I want?”

“You also know I was supposed to get married today.”

“And yet, when you talk about not getting married,” he scoffed, using the arm anchored around her waist to bring her even closer, “you look nothing but relieved.”

“So maybe my fiancé was not my Mr. Right,” Nora theorized hotly.

He grinned at her display of temper, his glance taking in the bare curves of her shoulders before returning with sensual deliberation to her eyes. He stared at her with taunting intensity. “And maybe in running away the way you did, even if it was at the very last minute, you stopped yourself from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

Suffused with heat everywhere Sam’s eyes had gazed, as well as everywhere they had not, Nora swallowed. She wished she was wearing anything but this beaded white satin wedding dress, with its flirtatiously full skirt and long, closely fitted drop sleeves and bosom-revealing neckline.

Determined not to let Sam get the better of her, in conversation or anything else, she made herself take a tranquilizing breath.

“As it happens,” Nora told Sam, glad at last that someone understood she’d prevented a mistake in running away, not made one, “that’s precisely what I did.”

Slowly he lowered his face to hers. His golden-brown eyes glittered rapaciously. “Then I’ve got nothing to worry about, even if your groom does show up here to reclaim you, do I?” he asked in a soft, silken voice.

Fighting the electric heat Sam’s touch elicited, Nora relaxed slightly in the comforting cradle of his arms. “I don’t think he’ll come after me,” Nora replied sadly. “And even if he did, it wouldn’t make any difference.”

“Good.” Satisfaction filled his eyes as he dropped one hand from around her back and lifted her chin to his.

“Why do you say that?”

Still gazing deep into her eyes, he curved his hand around her cheek and chin. “Because I’m old enough to know that chemistry like this comes but once in a lifetime, and I want my own chance with you,” he said softly.

Nora threw up her hands. She’d never met anyone more persistent. Furthermore, she knew by the confident, controlled way Sam held himself that he would never be satisfied unless he held the upper hand. And wasn’t that what she was trying to get away from? Men who would rule her life?

“Don’t you care that I’m on the rebound?” She pushed the words through clenched teeth, finding it hard to hang on to her cool.

Sam merely grinned from ear to ear. “Are you?” Sam asked, leaning forward. As he did so, his lips touched her temple. “’Cause I could’ve sworn by the way you’ve been acting today that you never really loved this Mr. Wrong of yours in the first place.” He paused and looked deep into her eyes.

He hadn’t even tried to kiss her lips, though he could have, and he was merely touching her face, yet Nora’s nipples tightened painfully beneath her lacy bridal corset. Lower still, there was a definite pressure building, and a new weakness in her knees. And the startling desire to feel his lips on hers—not just in a momentary experiment, but in a passionate explosion of feeling that went on…well, indefinitely.

And that, Nora thought, was crazy. She didn’t even know this man! Furthermore, she was not the kind of woman who could be swept off her feet. Not ever. And yet it appeared, she thought as she drew a shaky breath, that Sam Whittaker was doing just that.

“You didn’t love him, did you?” Sam probed.

Nora’s eyes widened at the low, masculine promise in his voice. “N-no,” she said as color poured into the high, sculpted planes of her face.

“Good,” Sam replied in a low, gravelly voice. “Then that’s all I need to know,” he said, pulling her against him. He threaded one hand through her hair. His lips grazed hers, tenderly at first, then with building passion. Nora was engulfed by so many sensations and feelings at once. The woodsy scent of him, the minty taste of his mouth. His lips were sure and sensual, his body was hard and warm. The man knew how to kiss! Knew how to draw a thrilling, incredibly sensual response from her, the kind she had read about but never really dreamed existed. And it was only then, when Nora realized what Sam had done to her, in getting her to respond that way to him, that he slowly drew back.

Not sure she could stand unassisted, Nora wreathed her arms about his shoulders and held on tight. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and she could barely catch her breath as she stared up at him.

He looked down at her, breathing just as erratically, appearing just as stunned, just as pleased. He smiled at her then, ever so softly and reluctantly, released his grip on her. “You’re free now.”

Nora blinked up at him dizzily, aware that she’d never felt more lovestruck than she did at that moment. “To love again?” she asked.

Sam ran his fingertips down the open wedge of the back of her gown, eliciting another series of tingles—and the realization that her trouble some zipper was no longer jammed. “To get out of the dress.”