To Tame a Bride

As he walked past the corner of the hangar to where his small plane was parked, he could finally see Madison with the pilot, Tom Grant.

“You agreed to fly me to Colorado, Mr. Grant,” she went on in that imperious tone that worked like sandpaper on the nerves.

“It’s a long flight, Miz St. John, and—”

“You want more money.” It wasn’t a question. Her soft voice had dropped lower and brought to mind the warning growl of a cat.

“No, ma’am,” Tom said, shaking his head as if he were anxious to correct her impression. “Just that the wife decided she hadn’t seen much of me this week and won’t stand to have me gone most of the weekend after those other folks canceled. Said she wanted me home.”

“How sweet.” Madison’s soft remark was poisonous, and Tom shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Line could imagine the look she was giving the man, though he could only see her profile as he passed several feet away from where they stood.

Tom caught sight of him then and gave a quick wave to get his attention. “Linc Coryell’s right over there, Miz St. John. Heard he was flyin’ to Aspen—hey, Linc!”

Madison turned to look in the direction Tom Grant indicated. The pilot broke into a trot and rushed to intercept Lincoln Coryell. As she watched, Tom jerked a thumb in her direction, said something too low for her to hear, then turned to hurry toward the airstrip office.

Incensed that the pilot had distracted her and neatly escaped, she stiffened when she felt Linc level his gaze on her. He was wearing a pair of mirrored sunglasses. The shade of his black Stetson would have made it impossible to read the expression in his dark eyes from this distance, but the sunglasses projected an aloofness that made him appear unapproachable.

She saw his mouth tighten before he glanced away and walked on. Unwilling to let this opportunity go by, she started after him. Her boots thumped smartly on the concrete as she tried to catch up.

Though she had an aversion to men like Lincoln Coryell—blunt, macho and uncivilized—she could endure a few hours of his presence if he could get her to Aspen. Instinct rather than past experience told her he was one of the few men in this part of Texas who was completely unimpressed by either her name or her wealth.

But then, Lincoln Coryell wasn’t a man to show deference to many. He was too hard and rough-edged and rich to be intimidated, and though the former cowboy was probably more wealthy than she was, his lack of education—she’d heard he hadn’t finished high school—and his ranch hand background excluded him from being a close member of the small society of elites in and around Coulter City.

She suspected a man like him could never be bought or finessed, and the only intimidation that would come into play with him was the strange intimidation she felt suddenly.

She pasted a faint smile on her face to signal the friendliness she needed to project, but the necessity of doing so made her grit her teeth. She could find another flight, but probably not until tomorrow. It was only because tomorrow might be too late that she even considered using charm.

“Mr. Coryell?” she said as she finally caught up with him, “I understand you’re flying to Colorado.”

Those mirrored sunglasses flashed toward her briefly as they walked along. She forced herself to smile a bit wider while he was looking down at her, but the effort felt more like an awkward twitch. The sunglasses flashed again with a dismissive turn of his head.

Nettled, she walked faster to keep up with his long stride. “I’m more than willing to pay,” she added, struggling to keep her voice reasonable and pleasant. She felt the snub when he didn’t respond. Surprise made her slow her steps. When he continued on, she hesitated, then hurried after him, appalled by the indignity of having to pursue him.

“I need to get to Colorado by evening, Mr. Coryell,” she called, her frustration mounting higher as she was forced to practically chase the man. Feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment, she sent a swift glance toward the office and hangar to see if anyone was watching.

In the next moment, she crashed into Linc’s back. He’d slowed when she wasn’t looking and she’d blundered into him. She gasped and jumped back as if she’d been burned.

And she had been. The heat of his big body and his sun-warmed clothes had scorched her somehow and it was all she could do not to check herself for damage. But he’d turned toward her and his handsome mouth was set in a no-nonsense line that warned her he was irritated.

Knowing she had to be polite if she had any hope of persuading him to fly her to Colorado, she forced another smile that felt as twitchy and unnatural as the other one had. “Pardon me, Mr. Coryell. I didn’t expect you to slow down so... abruptly.”

Her apology automatically implied that he was in the wrong for stopping, which he was. But he didn’t take blame well. She could tell by the hardening of his firm jaw.

Compelled to recover from her faux pas, she was forced to add, “I wasn’t watching where I was going for a moment.” She hesitated, giving herself a moment to conceal her aversion to apologizing twice. “Pardon me.”

She hadn’t realized how tall and broad-shouldered Lincoln Coryell was until she was standing two feet in front of him. The top of her head barely came to his shoulder. The mirrored lenses of his sunglasses were aimed down at her, and seeing twin reflections of herself made her feel even smaller.

That she also felt more fragile and feminine than she’d ever felt in her life was a small shock. But then, she’d just run into his hard body, and the impression of his solid masculinity was still quaking through her.

He didn’t speak, just stared down at her from his superior height as if neither of her apologies had been enough. Frustrated by his taciturn manner and uncertain how to deal effectively with him, she took advantage of his undivided attention.

“I have a very serious reason to get to Colorado—to Aspen—by tonight, Mr. Coryell.” Stung when he still didn’t respond, she gritted her teeth and made herself go on. “It’s not quite life or death, but close. I’m willing to pay you for your time and inconvenience—double the fare the other pilot asked.”

Finally, he reacted. But the cynical slant of his handsome mouth was insultingly superior. No one looked down their nose at Madison St. John, yet the impression she had that Lincoln Coryell was doing just that jolted her.

“I don’t hire out, Miz St. John.” With that, he turned and walked away.

Maddie’s frustration spiked so high that she felt dizzy with it. She had to get to Colorado. Though she could drive to San Antonio and try to catch a flight from there, she had no guarantee of success. Lincoln Coryell was flying to Colorado now. Besides, she’d compromised her dignity too far with him to take no for an answer. His resistance to her—though she was straining to be pleasant to him—was offensive. Demeaning .

The picture that flashed in her mind—of her mother’s reaction when she finally set eyes on the ugly duckling daughter who’d grown into a swan—sharpened her determination.

Perhaps Roz would regret the years of neglect. A secret part of Madison’s heart hoped her mother would be sorry for abandoning her, but without Lincoln Coryell’s help, it might never happen. If she didn’t get to Colorado today or by afternoon tomorrow, God only knew when—or if—her mother would contact her again.

She started after him, forced to set an unladylike pace to catch up.

“Mr. Coryell!” The hint of ire that simmered beneath her soft tone had worked with scores of others. In the end, she knew of only one sure way to assert her will over his and make him take her to Colorado. “As I said, it’s very important that I get to Aspen by tonight,” she insisted as she caught up and fell into step beside him.

Linc’s long strides didn’t alter. “So you said,” he drawled. “Not quite life or death, but close,” he quoted as they reached his small plane. He stopped and tossed his duffel bag out of the way near the tail of the aircraft, then turned toward her. The mirrored sunglasses flashed down at her and again framed her image.

“But not close enough to life or death for you to consider using a word as ordinary and humbling as the word please.”

Linc watched Maddie’s lips part, saw the spasm of shock in her eyes that blanked the arrogance from her stiff expression. Clearly, words like “please” and maybe even “thank you” weren’t a regular part of her vocabulary.

He stared down at her frozen expression, a little surprised at himself for giving her even a small chance to wreck what had started out to be a good day.

On the other hand, there was something challenging about a gorgeous, sharp-tongued shrew who intimidated the hell out of most men. Normally, he wanted no part of a female as self-centered and highmaintenance as Maddie St. John. Her flawless appearance hinted at excessive vanity, and it was an easy bet that she’d never warmed enough to any man to tolerate getting a little disheveled.

What would it take to get a woman like her to mellow? Was her legendary bitchiness born of meanness, or had she spoiled and overindulged herself on her inheritance? Was there any real passion behind her cool, blond beauty, or was she an ice cube through and through?

Her father and mother had abandoned her to a grandmother who’d bullied her mercilessly. Line knew she hadn’t had an easy life. He hadn’t either, but he’d overcome it and made several fortunes by seeing the potential in losing propositions and by taking big risks.

And for all her stunning beauty and wealth, Madison St. John was a losing proposition. Maybe there wasn’t anything about her worth having, but if there was, it might be entertaining to find it. The only thing he’d truly risk was a few hours cooped up with her in a small plane.

Still, he’d leave her right there on the tarmac if she couldn’t lower her haughty attitude far enough to frame a proper request that included the word “please.” She’d had so much trouble with “pardon me” that “please” might be more than she could handle.

He waited as the seconds stretched, watched as the flush in her cheeks darkened and rose higher. Just when he was about to grab his gear and stow it in the plane, her gaze wavered and fell from his.

He saw her chin lift slightly in defiance of the small defeat. She didn’t look him in the eye; probably afraid she’d see a hint of triumph. If the situation were reversed and she’d been the one who’d got the upper hand, it was a sure bet he would have seen triumph in hers.

“It’s very important that I get to Aspen by tonight, Mr. Coryell.” The careful words and her neutral tone were obviously straining her. “Would...would you please consider allowing me to fly to Colorado with you?”

The way she’d looked when she said the words—as if she’d just been forced to consent to the most hideous, immoral act in the history of man—startled a chuckle out of him.

Those blue, blue eyes leaped to make the connection with his, and he saw the conflagration that burst up in their vivid depths. She was furious, but to her credit, she didn’t turn it loose on him. Instead, she pressed her lips together so tightly that they were little more than a colorless seam.

“Go get your luggage and haul it over by mine while I do my preflight.”

The new flash of outrage in her eyes told him the order had heaped a new indignity on her injured pride. He hadn’t used the word “please” himself, but he’d meant to leave it out. He could tell she knew it.