From Texas, With Love

Samantha couldn’t disagree with that—Molly was genuine to the core.

Silence fell.

Samantha regarded Will cynically. As much as she would like to let him become her confidant, her protective instincts were warning her against it. Will had made no effort to hide his allegiance to her brother. As kind as he was being to her right now, he was every bit as intent on changing her attitude as Howard was. And for so many reasons, that couldn’t happen.

Her momentary desire to cooperate faded as fast as it had appeared. She forced herself to harden her heart. “You knew my brother was getting married this week when you came to get me yesterday.”

Will dropped his hands. “It’s not exactly a secret.”

“You knew he wanted me down here to participate in the ceremony,” she accused, feeling more deceived than ever.

She’d gotten used to tending only to her own needs. Will—and Howard and Molly—were trying to bring her out of her shell. She didn’t want to complicate her life that way, didn’t want to risk being hurt, deserted or betrayed.

He rubbed his jaw contemplatively. “So…?”

Heat rose into her face. “So why didn’t you tell me that at the outset?” Samantha demanded, even more upset.

“You wouldn’t have come if you’d known he and Molly were going to put you on the spot like that,” he stated simply.

“You’re darn right I wouldn’t have.” Samantha dragged the toe of her Italian leather shoe across the paved driveway, no more eager to leave the premises, and end their postbreakfast tête-à-tête, than he apparently was.

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t forewarn you.” He gave her a wink. “Isn’t it?”

Samantha ignored his attempt to tease her back into good humor. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she groused, feeling all the more hot and uncomfortable in clothing that had been designed for an East Coast spring. “I don’t have clothes for a week of festivities.”

Will checked out her breasts, waist, hips and legs, as if trying to assess her measurements. Imagining what it would be like if he was actually touching instead of just looking, Samantha felt warmth radiate through her. Was it hot out here in the morning sun, or what?

He stepped close enough so she could feel his body heat and breathe in the brisk, masculine fragrance of his cologne. “You could borrow some,” he suggested in a low voice. “I’ve got some sisters-in-law that are about your size. I’m sure they’d be glad to lend you anything you need.”

Samantha stiffened. If everyone in Laramie, Texas, was this hospitable, it was going to be hard as heck to leave. Determined not to let him see how much his nearness was affecting her, she lifted a brow.

“I’d rather not be indebted to anyone else here,” she said stiffly. Especially since she’d have no way of returning the favor.

Will rocked back on his heels and sent her a flirtatious look that upended her equilibrium even further. “Well, then, buying is an option, too,” he drawled. “My brother Lewis’s wife, Lexie Remington, designs clothes for young women. Her clothing line is in department stores all over the country now, but she has lots of samples at her design studio that she sells cheaply to locals. All you have to do is make an appointment to go in and see what she has.”

Aware that Will was systematically chipping away at her resistance, Samantha wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s not the point.”

Although the chance to shop at up-and-coming Lexie Reminton’s design studio was not to be missed. Samantha already owned a few of her pieces—she’d bought them at Bloomingdale’s in Manhattan.

“Then what is the point?” he asked.

Not sure when she had felt so off-kilter and aroused all at once, Samantha finally confessed. “I’ll go stir-crazy, hanging out here until the wedding.” She was used to the hustle and bustle of the city, the anonymity.

“Hey.” Will assumed the boldly aggressive stance of a determined salesperson. “You’ve got plenty to do, besides fulfilling your duties as maid of honor.”

“Like what?” she asked.

He moved forward slightly, further invading her space. “For starters, figuring out how you’re going to pay me back for your room and board.”

She snorted in disbelief. Maybe if she kept the banter up, she wouldn’t think about what it was going to be like being in close proximity to Will McCabe for an entire week. “You’d really charge me for sharing a bunk with you?”

He flashed her a grin. “Not monetarily.”

Whoa! The images those two words conjured up had her tingling all over. She pushed past him, then remembered she was supposed to be driving away. Getting a grip, she whirled back and decided to take him on, anyway. “I hope you’re not suggesting…”

He settled his large frame in the open car door. The look he gave her was direct, uncompromising, confident. Just seeing him that way made her mouth go dry. “My, my, you’ve got a naughty mind.”

Now would have been the perfect time to slip behind the wheel and peel off. Unfortunately, he was blocking her entrance to the driver’s side. Furious, she sputtered, “There is no way—”

“Relax.” He held up a hand before she could finish her tirade. “I like my women enthusiastic, to say the least.”

Samantha imagined they all were, given his ruggedly handsome appearance and easygoing, upbeat attitude.

Feigning disinterest, she rolled her eyes. “Glad we have that clear.”

He tucked his hands beneath his armpits, and continued watching her in a leisurely fashion that made her think about naked bodies and mussed sheets. “The question remains,” he murmured, “how you’re going to pay me back for the room and board. In a nonmonetary way, of course.”

Samantha sighed, wishing she had never gotten entangled with him.

“Obviously,” she retorted, “you have an idea.”

“Actually,” he replied, “I do. You’re an advertising whiz. I have a charter jet service in need of a new ad campaign.” He paused to let those two facts sink in. “Think you could put something together for me in a week, between wedding activities?”

Samantha tamped down the immediate spark of excitement she felt. “You’re serious.” She pretended she wasn’t dying for some work.

“Damn right I am,” he said with an enticing smile.

She dragged her eyes away from the tempting corners of his mouth, affected her best bored tone. “I guess I could do that for you,” she responded, with the same lazy insouciance he was now displaying. “On one condition.” She looked deep into his McCabe-blue eyes and paused to let her words sink in. “I want my own bed to sleep in tonight.” When that demand looked as if it might be met, she added crisply, “And some sort of comfortable chair to sit in. Plus I’ll need access to a desk, your computer and office supplies.”

Will responded with a nod and another enigmatic smile. “I’ll take care of it right away.”

FOUR HOURS LATER, Will had finished making up the flight schedule for the rest of the week and e-mailed it to all his pilots. He kicked back in his desk chair and folded his hands behind his head.

Samantha strolled in, sunglasses on top of her head. To his surprise, she seemed to get more beautiful every time he laid eyes on her. Why that was so, he couldn’t figure out. She was wearing the same sophisticated black clothing that marked her as a city slicker and covered up way too much of her lovely curves. And it wasn’t as if she had done anything different to her hair. The thick glossy waves fell unencumbered to her shoulders. She had the same deft touch with makeup. Not that she seemed to use much, from what he had seen. Her eyes were exceptionally captivating in an already gorgeous face—maybe because they seemed wiser than her years. And those lips, Will noted with no small amount of desire, were so soft and luscious looking he was surprised he hadn’t figured out a way to kiss them yet.

Not that he couldn’t have put the moves on her, had he been so inclined.

He just hadn’t wanted to scare her away. Hadn’t wanted to risk staking a claim Samantha wasn’t ready for. But when she was, he decided, he was definitely going to give it his all. And hope she gave it everything she had, too.

In the meantime, he noticed that she had definitely taken his advice and treated herself. She carried several shopping bags bearing the logos of local boutiques.

Obviously unaware of how his libido amplified at just the sight of her, she dumped the bags in a corner of the room and dropped down in the chair in front of him. The pressure at the front of his jeans increased as she pulled a leather-bound notepad from the oversize leather carryall that passed as her purse.

“Let’s get down to business. Show me what you’ve got.”

Irked by her deliberate lack of pleasantries, Will gave her a leisurely once-over meant to get under her skin. Taking his bad behavior a step further, he touched his belt buckle and waggled his brows. “Good thing I know you don’t mean that the way it sounds,” he drawled.

Behaving as if he hadn’t spoken, she offered a tight, officious smile. “If you want me to design an ad campaign,” she told him, “I need to review the advertisements you’ve been running to date.”