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Texas Magic

Год написания книги
2018
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His words hit home and were a little sobering. Why not go for something she wanted? Why not just this once do something completely out of character and take something just for herself? Even if it was impermanent...even if she could only have Drew for one night...

She had never slept with a guy before they were solidly in a committed relationship. The thought of getting physical with Drew left her breathless—or maybe it was the way Drew was looking at her. Whatever it was, something was different tonight. Was it the wedding? The champagne? Or maybe it was just the physical reaction of a woman wanting a man who seemed to want her back. Why make it any more complicated than it was?

His words echoed in her head, in her heart. You have to go after what you want in life. If not, what’s the point of living?

She really had not been living, had she?

“There’s definitely chemistry between us, Drew. But rather than trying to figure it all out, like a science experiment, don’t you just want to enjoy the magic? You know, get lost in the fantasy? Science steals the magic because it explains too much. I happen to like fantasy even more than I like flowers.”

“Science never was my thing,” he said. “Maybe we should...dance, instead.”

Chapter Two

Sometimes a girl just had to say what the hell and go for broke with the gorgeous guy who’d been flirting with her since the moment they’d first laid eyes on each other.

Even if it wasn’t going to last longer than the moment...or the night.

Liquid courage wasn’t fully to blame for Caroline turning a moment with Drew into a night. Nope, blame wasn’t even a factor in this equation.

Although she would like to know what had come over her last night. She raised her chin as she peered at herself in the bathroom mirror, wiping away the remnants of stubborn makeup smudges that had not washed away in the shower.

They’d danced until the moment Claudia had tossed her bouquet. Claudia had looked Caroline in the eye, turned around and tossed the flowers right to her. There had been no running or lunging or fighting. With one clean toss, the bouquet had tumbled through the air in a surreal sort of slow motion, before it landed right in Caroline’s hands.

Then, her sister and Kyle had gotten into the limo and had driven off into the night.

Caroline and Drew had wasted no time finding their way up to Caroline’s hotel suite.

Yes, she had been perfectly in control of her choices. Even if nearly every move she had made since abandoning her second trip to the cake table had been out of character.

It was too late to second-guess herself. It was six o’clock in the morning and Drew had been sound asleep when she had tiptoed off to the shower. She took her time, thinking that if he awoke and wanted an easy out, he could dress and slip out while she was occupied in the other room.

No awkward morning-after dances...especially since their “dance” last night had been so perfect. She wanted the end of their tryst—God, was that what this was, a tryst? When was the last time she had used that word? Probably never. That’s why she wanted the end of whatever this was to be as easy and unforced as the beginning: They’d danced during the reception after the limo had taken Claudia and Kyle away, Caroline and Drew had ended up back in her suite with a bottle of champagne, sharing the big marble Jacuzzi. Then they’d heated up the sheets of the big bed she initially thought would swallow her up alone.

But it had not. It had proven to be quite a lovely playground, where she and Drew Montgomery had played games she never dreamed she would take part in with someone like him.

He of all people. Her brother-in-law’s best friend. Good Lord, if Claudia ever found out, her holier-than-thou sister would...well, she definitely wouldn’t approve. As if Caroline’s wedding “nightcap” might somehow sully Claudia’s fairy-tale-perfect nuptials.

Caroline inhaled sharply, refusing to feel guilty over taking a little slice of pleasure for herself for a change. The scent of the lavender bath salts they’d used in the tub last night still perfumed the air.

Never in her life had Caroline felt so drawn to someone she knew so little about. The undeniable vibe she was getting from Drew this weekend was that he was the consummate bad boy. With his charm, she imagined he was a virtuoso at wooing women. The thought sent a particular thrill coursing through her.

Maybe she was overromanticizing the situation, but if she had learned one thing about Drew Montgomery this weekend it was that he had an unshakeable conviction to live life to its fullest.

If not, what’s the point of living?

His words haunted her. Their influence had been the tipping point, and the rest was history. Granted, a very short chapter in Caroline’s romantic history. But still, it was something.

Maybe he was onto something with his “authentic living” philosophy. Maybe she should borrow a page from that philosophy and tell her father that the stuffy offices of Coopersmith & Bales weren’t where she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

What would he say if she told him she wanted to put aside her Harvard Business School education and bake?

She could hear her father’s humorless laugh in the recesses of her mind. It was a stupid idea. It wouldn’t be the first time she had broached the subject. But Charles Coopersmith always seemed to go deaf when she talked about a career change.

Right now everything was in order in the Coopersmith universe: Claudia was married to a man their father had all but hand-picked, and Caroline was in line to step into her father’s role of senior partner when he retired.

A knot formed in her stomach at the mere thought. There was nothing she could do about it right now. That’s why having a one-night stand with the best man at her sainted sister’s wedding—a man of whom her father would never approve—was as close as she would come to defying him.

She tried to shrug off the inner voice calling her a coward. But it didn’t really matter, did it? She knew in her gut that when she left the sanctuary of the bathroom, she would find the bed empty. Drew would’ve taken advantage of her absence to take his leave, and she would leave the fantasy of their one night behind and step back into real life.

So buck up. One night with Drew was exactly what you signed up for. This is how you wanted it to end.

She gave her reflection one last once-over. The foggy bathroom mirror reflected back a soft-focus image of a woman who looked a bit too hopeful to return to an empty bed. She ran her fingers through her damp hair, pushing the errant chestnut strands away from her face. Tightening the sash of the bathrobe, she opened the collar just a little bit so that the right amount of cleavage showed.

She turned out the light before she opened the door, standing in the pitch-dark for a moment to gather herself. She heard a distant door slam; someone moving around in the room upstairs; the distant resonance of a toilet flushing, a shower starting. The symphony of hotel sounds set over the reverb of her own breathing.

All right, come on. You can’t stay in here forever. Slowly, she turned the doorknob and stepped into the dimly lit bedchamber.

The first thing to come into focus was her bridesmaid dress, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Next, a trail of various articles of underclothing and men’s clothing—

Her gaze zagged to the bed, where a mound in the bed verified that Drew was still there. She froze, uncertain of what to do. Should she get back in bed or get dressed?

So much for avoiding the awkward morning-after dance.

When Caroline’s gaze adjusted to the low light, the bridal bouquet, which lay on the nightstand, came into focus. Perched precariously on the edge of the table, its bloodred roses were now drooping and showing their age. However, the blunt, thorn-free stems, chopped to uniform perfection and bound tightly in virginal, white satin ribbon, were still perfectly in place.

None of those roses could possibly break free from the pack. Now, if that wasn’t a metaphor for the Coopersmith family way...

In Caroline’s mind, a vision flashed of herself growing old and used up but still toeing the line at Coopersmith & Bales. All the blood drained from her head.

Drew stirred. His hand went up to his face, and he scrubbed his eyes before he propped himself up on his elbow.

“Good morning.” His voice was a hoarse rasp. He eyed her up and down, and the last traces of bravado she had been full of last night vanished, like someone deadheading roses.

“Good morning.” Her words slipped out on a whisper.

Grasping the lapels of her robe, she held them together, as if she were all modesty and virtue.

Oh, God, help me. It was too late for that now—too late for help or for modesty and virtue.

Drew patted the empty side of the bed next to him. “Come here.”

It took a couple of beats to unstick her bare feet from the floor, but finally she forced her legs to move. She perched primly on the edge of the bed next to him, her hands in her lap. Her gaze again landed on the bridal bouquet, but she redirected it to Drew.

He looked so darn sexy lying there on his side, propped up on his elbow, the sheet pulled up to his waist, barely covering his hipbones. His biceps bulged and his broad shoulders looked a mile wide. She swallowed around the angst that was blocking her airway.

“Do you want some coffee?” she offered, finally finding her voice, then cringing at the inane question.

“No thanks.” His hand was on her back, kneading her shoulder through the soft terry of the robe. “That’s not what I’m in the mood for just now.”
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