Country Bride: Country Bride / Woodrose Mountain

“About us,” she began carefully. She drew in a steadying breath, but her eyes avoided Luke’s. “I hope you realize that when I asked you to marry me I...didn’t actually mean it.”

He went very still and for a long moment he said nothing. “I took you seriously, Kate.”

Kate freed herself from his arms and reached for her coffee, gripping the mug tightly. “I’d had too much champagne.”

“According to you, it was only one glass.”

“Yes, but I drank it on an empty stomach, and with all the difficult emotions the wedding brought out, I... I simply wasn’t myself.”

Luke frowned. “Oh?”

“No, I wasn’t,” she said, feigning a light laugh. “The way we were dancing and the way I clung to you, and...and kissed you. That’s nothing like me. I’m not going to hold you to that promise, Luke.”

As if he found it difficult to remain standing, Luke turned a chair around and straddled it with familiar ease. Kate claimed the chair opposite him, grateful to sit down. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Luke draped his forearms over the back of his chair, cupping the hot mug with both hands, and studied Kate with an intensity that made her blush.

“Listen,” Kate said hesitantly, “you were the perfect gentleman and I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you did. But... I didn’t mean half of what I said.”

The sun-marked crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes fanned out as Luke smiled slowly, confidently. “Now that raises some interesting questions.”

“I don’t understand.” Surely Luke knew what she was talking about, yet he seemed to enjoy watching her make an even bigger fool of herself by forcing her to explain.

“Well,” he said in an easy drawl, “if you only meant half of what you said, then it leads me to wonder what you did mean and what you didn’t.”

“I can’t remember everything I said,” she murmured, her cheeks hot enough to pop a batch of corn. “But I do know I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d forget the part about marrying me.”

“I don’t want to forget it.”

“Luke, please,” she cried, squeezing her eyes shut. “This is embarrassing me. Could you please drop it?”

Luke rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I don’t think I can.”

So Luke was going to demand his pound of flesh. Kate supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. She had, after all, brought this on herself. “You were so kind to me at the reception... After the wedding ceremony you kept saying you wanted to help me and, Luke, you did, you honestly did. I don’t think I could’ve made it through Clay’s wedding without you, but...”

“You want to forget the kissing, too?”

“Yes, please.” She nodded emphatically.

He frowned. “That’s not what you said last night. In fact, you seemed a little stunned at how pleasant it was. As I recall you told me—and I quote—‘why didn’t you tell me you were so good at this?’”

“I said that?” Kate muttered, already knowing it was true.

“I’m afraid so.”

She covered her face with both hands as the hot color mounted in her cheeks.

“And you made me promise to marry you.”

She bit down hard on her lower lip. “Anyone else in the world would have mercifully forgotten I said that.”

With a certain degree of ceremony, Luke set his hat farther back on his head and folded his arms. His face was a study in concentration. “I have no intention of forgetting it. I’m a man of my word and I never break my promises.”

Kate groaned. In light of her father’s news this morning, she’d hoped Luke might be a bit more understanding. “It’s obvious you’re deriving pleasure from this,” she muttered angrily, then pressed her lips together to keep from saying more.

“No, not exactly. When would you like to have the wedding? And while we’re at it, you might as well learn now that—”

“You can’t be serious!” she interrupted, incredulous that he’d suggest they set a date. If this was a joke, he was carrying it too far.

“I’m dead serious. You asked me to marry you, I agreed, and anything less would be a breach of good faith.”

“Then I... I absolve you from your promise.” She waved her hands as if she was granting some kind of formal dispensation.

He stroked the side of his face, his forehead creased in a contemplative frown. “My word is my word and I stand firm on it.”

“I didn’t understand what I was saying—well, I did. Sort of. But you know as well as I do that the...heat of the moment was doing most of the talking.”

Luke’s frown deepened. “I suppose everybody in town will assume you’re marrying me on the rebound. Either that, or I’ll be the one they gossip about. That doesn’t trouble me much, but I don’t like the thought of folks saying anything about you.”

“Will you stop?” she cried. “I have no intention of marrying anyone! Ever!” She was finished with love, finished with romance. Thirty years from now she’d be living alone with a few cats and her knitting needles.

“That wasn’t what you said last night.”

“Would you quit saying that? I wasn’t myself, for heaven’s sake!”

“Well, our getting married sounded like a hell of a good idea to me. Now, I know you’ve gone through a hard time, but our marriage will end all that.”

Kate brushed a shaking hand across her eyes, hoping this was just part of a nightmare and she’d soon wake up. Unfortunately when she lowered her hand, Luke was still sitting there, as arrogant as could be. “I can’t believe we’re having this discussion. It’s totally unreasonable, and if you’re trying to improve my mood, you’ve failed.”

“I’m serious, Kate. I told you that.”

Keeping her head down, she spoke quickly, urgently. “It’s really wonderful of you to even consider going through with the marriage, but it isn’t necessary, Luke. More than anyone, you should know that I can’t marry you. Not when I love Clay Franklin.”

“Hogwash.”

Kate’s head jerked up. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re in love with me. You just don’t know it yet.”

It took Kate only half a second to respond. “Of all the egotistical, vain, high-handed...” She paused to suck in a breath. If Luke’s intent was to shock her, he’d succeeded. She bolted to her feet and flailed the air with both hands. Unable to stand still, she started pacing the kitchen. “I don’t understand you. I’ve tried, honestly I’ve tried. One moment you’re the Rock of Gibraltar, steady and secure and everything I need, my best friend, and the next moment you’re saying the most ridiculous things to me. It never used to be like this! Why have you changed?”

“Is it really that bad?” he cajoled softly, ignoring her question.

“I don’t know what happened to you—to us—at the wedding reception, but like you said, something must’ve been in the air. Let’s blame it on the champagne and drop it before one of us gets hurt.”

“If you gave the idea of our getting married some serious thought, it might grow on you,” he suggested next.

Then he got to his feet and moved purposefully toward her, his mouth twisted in a cocky grin. “Maybe this will help you decide what’s best.”

“I—”