The Groom's Revenge

Who had the prettiest blue eyes, the nicest smile and the most ncredible body she’d ever seen. And for the first time in months, she wasn’t lonely.

Three

Mollie’s mouth caught fire. So much for her first foray into adventure, she thought as she swallowed half a glass of Char donnay to douse the flames.

Gray had ordered Thai takeout, and while most of it was jus a little spicy and really delicious, the chilies in one dish burned her mouth, her throat and anywhere that the fumes alone touched. She didn’t care much for his amused smile, or the way he continued to eat the blistering dish as if it were macaroni and cheese.

“You said—” she panted “—it was hot.” She took another swig of wine. “But I didn’t expect fire. Your taste buds mus be cauterized.” She took her plate into the kitchen, grabbed a Popsicle from the freezer, then plopped back onto the sofa bedside him. She’d already consumed two glasses of wine, and the room seemed draped with gauze.

“It’s an acquired taste.” He closed the cartons with their left overs and carried them into the kitchen.

“Grab a Popsicle, if you want,” she said, then moaned as the frozen treat numbed her mouth at last.

“I’m okay, thanks,” he called out

She heard water running and realized he was rinsing the dishes, something she should be doing, but nothing could have induced her to put aside her icy first aid. Warm and lazy from the wine, she snuggled into the cushions and closed her eyes.

After a minute she felt him sit beside her.

“Something tells me you aren’t exactly ready for computer lessons,” he said, humor in his voice.

“Whose fault is that?”

“I didn’t know that two glasses of wine would put you under.”

“Now you know.” She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

“Your lips are red.”

“Cherry,” she said, then took the last of it off the stick as he watched. Her inhibitions nonexistent, she ran her tongue over her lips. “Cold, too. Wanna feel?”

He didn’t say a word. Smiling, she leaned across the cushion and touched her lips to his just long enough to feel how warm his were—and how unresponsive. He didn’t attempt to deepen the kiss.

She looked away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Is there someone in your life who might not be too pleased that you’re spending time alone with me, Mollie?”

“No.” She couldn’t just sit there. Embarrassment had probably turned her face as red as her lips. She took her Popsicle stick to the kitchen to throw away.

“No boyfriend?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“So the heart-shaped box of candy in your refrigerator...”

“Left over from Valentine’s Day.”

Which was probably as much of an answer as he was going to get, Gray decided as she disappeared into the kitchen. “Is there some woman who will challenge me to a duel for kissing you?” she called out.

“No.” She called that a kiss? A press of cold lips that had lasted all of maybe two seconds? She’d caught him off guard—which was probably just as well, since a more personal relationship wasn’t in his plans, which were getting hazier by the moment. The surge of protectiveness he felt toward her constantly surprised him, but the physical attraction amazed him. She was so young and innocent. And she had way too much faith in him.

If she only knew—

She came out of the kitchen. “Really, Gray? There’s no special woman?”

“Most women don’t like taking second place. My work consumes my time and energy.”

“But you date. I’ve seen pictures.” She frowned. “And not just Hollywood-type women. Samantha Simeon, right here in Minneapolis.”

“I come out of my cyberworld long enough to date occasionally. As I’m sure you do.”

She tucked her legs under her and rested her head against the sofa cushions. “I haven’t been on a date since my mother died.”

“You said that she passed away late last year ”

“An aneurysm. There was no warning at all.”

“My father died suddenly, too. I was eight.”

“Oh!” She lifted her head. “Oh, I’m so sorry. At least I had my mom a lot longer. She was forty when she had me, but she’d never even looked middle-aged to me. We even shared clothes. I thought she was invincible. Sixty-one is too young to die ”

“What about your father? You said he was gone before you were born.”

She plucked at the upholstery fabric. “I never knew him.”

Damn it. He couldn’t read her. Do you know that Stuart Fortune is your father, Mollie? “Any other family?” he asked.

“None. How about you? Your mother remarried, obviously. Do you have siblings?”

He shook his head. “I guess we have a lot in common ”

“Were you lonely as a child?”

Lonely was hardly the word. He’d been subjected to scandal, uprooted to California, given a new father and a new last name, commanded never to speak of his real father again. Ever. His life hadn’t only been turned upside down but also inside out. “I was a loner,” he said to Mollie.

“My mom was the best. It’s been very hard without her.” She touched his hand that had clenched into a fist. “We’ve become morbid, haven’t we? I think my head has settled down enough to take a computer lesson.”

“It’s probably a good night to learn how to use e-mail and maybe surf the Net a little.”

“No one is going to believe this,” she said a minute later as she sat in front of the computer. “I’m going to have to take pictures to prove you were here.”

He dragged up a chair beside hers. “You can invite your friends over, if you want.”

Mollie rejected the idea. Share him? No way. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever. He was her dream, after all. The reason for her sanity. She was afraid to diminish it by letting other people share in his attention. “Do you mind if we keep this relationship between us for a while?”

“Not at all. Show-and-tell was never my favorite part of the school day.” He pointed to the Power key and told her to press it. “Do you know how to type?”

“I took two years of it in high school.”