“I’ll hold both of you,” Travis said

Travis transferred the baby into Gwen’s arms, and the little girl laid her head trustingly on her shoulder. Gwen’s heart swelled with pleasure as she brushed a kiss against the baby’s velvet cheek.

“Perfect,” Travis murmured as he wrapped his arms around Gwen and Elizabeth, leading them into a slow, swaying dance.

It should have been harmless. But Gwen hadn’t counted on having to look directly into Travis’s eyes while they moved to the music. She didn’t want him to know he was arousing her, but those eyes probably saw everything—her rapid breathing, her beating pulse, her flushed skin.

“Let me love you, Gwen,” he whispered softly.

His mouth was beautiful, she thought. Every woman should have a chance to kiss a mouth like that once in her life. And if the rest of him lived up to the sensuous promise of his mouth…

She was putty in his hands, and she knew it. “I don’t want to be another notch in your belt,” she said in an effort to break the spell he was weaving over her.

Travis smiled, slow and sexy, his eyes alight with banked passion. “Then let me be a notch in yours….”

Dear Reader,

Cowboys have a reputation for being fearless. Ride a big, bad bronc—no problem. Turn back a thundering herd—piece of cake. But make a cowboy responsible for one tiny baby girl and he trembles in his boots. It’s positively adorable.

Last month, in The Colorado Kid, I subjected rancher Sebastian Daniels to that fate. This month, lady-killer Travis Evans gets his turn with baby Elizabeth, who may or may not be his child. Travis decides she is and stakes his claim by naming her Lizzie.

That makes two cowboys so far who each think they’re the baby’s father. A third prospective daddy shows up in Book 3 of the miniseries, Boone’s Bounty, available next month. And in September, a Single Title brings the series to a rousing finish as Nat Grady arrives in town proclaiming That’s My Baby! Nat turns the baby battle into quite a rodeo. Come watch!

Warmly,

Vicki Lewis Thompson

Two in the Saddle
Vicki Lewis Thompson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Julie Kistler,

for generously sharing her invisible,

chanting gnomes when I needed a creative boost.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

1

WEDDINGS MADE Travis Evans nervous.

Standing at the altar of the Huerfano Community Church with his good buddy Sebastian Daniels was like hanging out with a guy who had chicken pox. One wrong move on Travis’s part and bam! He’d catch the marriage bug. And that would mean the end of life as he knew it.

But somebody had to be there for Sebastian. By rights Sebastian should have had four guys lined up to give him moral support, but he and Matty hadn’t been willing to wait for folks to rearrange their schedules.

Sebastian’s brother Ed was stuck in Alaska, and as for the three cowboys who made up Sebastian’s inner circle, only Travis was available. Nat Grady was overseas working in a small, war-torn country with a name Travis had trouble pronouncing. Boone Conner was on the road in New Mexico with his mobile horseshoeing business and tracking him down had been impossible.

So Travis was Sebastian’s best man, which was just as well, Travis thought, because that balanced out the wedding party. Matty’s family hadn’t been able to make it on such short notice, either, so her only attendant was Gwen Hawthorne, maid of honor. Or matron. Travis wasn’t sure which it was when a woman was divorced. Divorced and marriage-shy. It was a hell of a promising combination, in Travis’s opinion. Too bad Gwen hated his guts.

Even though Sebastian and Matty were light in the wedding-party department, they weren’t short of wedding guests. The tiny clapboard church was packed. The men had dusted off their best Western-cut suits, and the women…. Travis sighed with longing. The women looked like a bouquet of Colorado wildflowers in their pastel-colored outfits. The air was still cool on this May afternoon, but the women of Huerfano had dressed for spring.

Travis loved how warmer weather invited the ladies to bare a little more of their delectable skin, and ordinarily he would have taken delight in the number of eligible females within range of his smile. But weddings were a dangerous time to flirt. Weddings gave single women ideas.

The minister, Pete McDowell, had been a hell-raiser in his youth according to what Travis had heard, but he’d entered the ministry and reformed. With his neatly trimmed gray beard and long robe, he looked like the sort of person who could tie the knot good and tight.

Besides, everybody agreed Pete had been born with a voice that belonged either in the pulpit or on the radio. He turned now and nodded toward the church organist, Sarah Jane Ashfelder, who began to play.

Out of habit, Travis glanced over and winked at her. She blushed and bobbled a chord. Immediately he regretted the wink, partly because he’d flustered her and partly because everybody in the valley knew Sarah Jane was desperately seeking a husband. A wink from him while Sarah Jane was playing the organ at a wedding gave the wrong impression all the way around.

“Got the ring?” Sebastian whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

It was about the hundredth time Sebastian had asked since this morning, but Travis cut him some slack. A guy had a right to be wrecked on his wedding day. “Yeah, I’ve got it,” he murmured. “How’re you holding up?”

“Shaking like a newborn calf.”

“This is a good move, Sebastian.” Travis thoroughly believed that. Even though he wasn’t interested in matrimony himself, it fit some guys like a glove. Sebastian was one of those guys. And Matty Lang was perfect for him.

“I know it’s a good move,” Sebastian said softly. “But I’m no good at public displays like this. This collar itches, and my coat’s too tight across the shoulders. I—”

A baby’s loud wail rose above the deep tones of the organ. The congregation turned toward the back of the church, their murmurs of curiosity getting louder as they strained to see where the noise was coming from.

“That would be Lizzie, kicking up a fuss in the vestibule,” Travis said. “I knew it was a mistake, making her part of this shindig.”

“It is not a mistake,” Sebastian said in a low voice, although he could have spoken normally and not been heard above the bellowing organ, the screaming baby and the excited chatter of the guests. This baby had been the subject of much speculation, and folks were obviously dying to see her.

“She’s not even four months old,” Travis pointed out. “That’s too little to be in a wedding.”

“No, it’s not. She’s advanced for her age. Besides, Elizabeth brought Matty and me together. She belongs here. We forgot the pacifier, is all. I want my daughter to be part of this.”

Travis felt like strangling Sebastian with his string tie. The guy wouldn’t give up his wrongheaded insistence that he was Lizzie’s father. “She’s not your daughter. She’s mine, as you damned well know.” Travis was dead sure about it. The evidence was in the note he’d received three weeks ago in Utah, a note he’d now memorized.

Dear Travis,

I’m counting on you to be a godfather to my daughter Elizabeth until I can return for her. Your playful approach to life is just what she needs right now. I’ve left her with Sebastian at the Rocking D. Believe me, I wouldn’t do this if I weren’t in desperate circumstances.

In deepest gratitude,

Jessica

Lizzie was his, all right. Maybe he couldn’t remember the specifics of that night when he, Sebastian, Boone and Jessica had celebrated the anniversary of their escape from an avalanche, but he was the likely candidate for fatherhood.

He recalled that all the guys had been drunk, drunk enough to make passes at Jessica, even though she was only a friend. And like a good friend, she’d driven them back to their cabin and tucked each of them in bed. He remembered her leaning over him, a smile on her face. He must have coaxed her in there with him, and that was when Lizzie had been conceived.

And yes, Sebastian had received a similar note asking him to be a godfather when Jessica left the baby on his doorstep. But Sebastian wasn’t the type to get wasted and make love without protection. Travis hadn’t ever done that before, either, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for him the way it was for Sebastian.

Nevertheless, Sebastian had taken credit for that baby and wouldn’t give up. He was presently glaring at Travis, his jaw clenched. “She’s my baby. She’s got the Daniels nose.”

“In your dreams. She looks exactly like a picture of my mother at that age.”

Sarah Jane launched into the wedding march, pulling out all the stops to drown out the baby’s cries.

“Oh, yeah?” Sebastian said. “Then I guess I never showed you a picture of my mother at that age. She—”

“Gentlemen.” Pete McDowell lifted his eyebrows in censure. “I don’t think this is the time or the place to argue your paternity issues. The processional has begun.”

Sebastian gulped and faced the back of the church.

Travis turned in that direction, too. Sure enough, here came Gwen pushing the antique baby buggy she’d unearthed from the attic of her Victorian house. People on both sides of the aisle craned their necks hoping for a glimpse of the mystery baby that two men claimed to have fathered.

Gwen had pushed Lizzie down the aisle in the buggy during the rehearsal, and the little girl had seemed to love it. But today was a different story, apparently. Today Lizzie was having nothing to do with that buggy.

Gwen had decorated it with flowers and ribbons so it looked real pretty, and she’d found a way to hook her bridal bouquet onto the buggy handle. Lizzie didn’t seem to appreciate any of Gwen’s efforts. But it wasn’t the buggy decorations that held Travis’s gaze. One glimpse of Gwen and his hormones snapped to attention.

She wore a dress the same color as new aspen leaves, and the pale green looked amazing against her golden skin. He vaguely remembered hearing that she had Cheyenne ancestors somewhere in her family tree. That also explained her jet-black hair, worn up today in some elaborate arrangement that mystified and tantalized him. She’d woven green ribbons and flowers through her shiny curls, making her look like a Native American princess—a modern princess who knew her way around a curling iron.

Travis licked his lips. He was of the firm belief that women spent all that time putting their hair up hoping that some man would itch to take it down. And he did.

The sleeves of her dress were long, with little conservative buttons at the wrists, but the neckline wasn’t even remotely conservative. Travis stared at the most spectacular cleavage he’d seen in a coon’s age. He sighed as he calculated the odds of ever enjoying that bounty. She was the only single woman in the valley he hadn’t been able to charm.

And that frustrated him, especially at this moment when Gwen was walking toward him displaying her wares so effectively. Travis was relatively unacquainted with frustration, considering that women seemed to enjoy giving him what he wanted when he wanted it.

Because he was used to having his needs satisfied in short order, he’d never realized that rejection could be a more powerful aphrodisiac than acceptance. Good thing these fancy pants Sebastian had rented for him had pleats.

Gwen held her head high and smiled as she pushed the buggy containing the screaming baby, but Travis noticed the tension around her eyes. And then, for one electric moment, her dark gaze met his. Her silent plea for help might have been unconscious, but it was unmistakable.

Without thinking, Travis reacted. He crossed in front of Sebastian and the minister and met Gwen as she reached the altar.

She paused, and her eyes widened as he lifted a squalling Lizzie out of the buggy and cradled her against the shoulder of his tux.

They’d decked the baby out in a white eyelet dress and white booties, which was reasonable, but some idiot had decided to torment her by putting a bow on an elastic band around her head. No wonder she was upset. Travis took the bow off and kissed the little girl’s damp cheek.

Gwen cleared her throat. “Travis—”

“Go on over to your spot,” Travis murmured, tucking the bow gizmo in his pocket. “I’ll handle her.”

“But—”

“Go on. I’ll get her to stop.” And in fact he already had. Lizzie snuffled against his shoulder and grabbed on to his lapel as if she didn’t plan to let go. He smiled at Gwen. “See?”

Gwen shook her head. “Unreal,” she muttered.

He shrugged. “Most girls like me.” With a wink at Gwen he returned to his place holding Lizzie.

Gwen didn’t want to be touched by the picture of Travis standing at the altar letting a baby slobber on his tux. On her way to the front of the church, in addition to worrying about Elizabeth’s crying, she’d noticed that Travis looked like a god up there. She’d known he was mouth-watering in jeans, but she hadn’t been prepared for the sight of him in a tux.

Because she loved everything Victorian, she had a weakness for a man in a tuxedo, a man who looked as if he’d stepped out of another era. Dressing Travis in a tie and tails and setting him smack-dab in front of her should be against the law.

She’d nearly forgotten Elizabeth’s wailing as she took in the allure of the high, white collar emphasizing his strong neck, the black coat stretched tight across his broad shoulders, and the snug fit of his dove-gray vest. Vests were made for men built like Travis. The delicate pink rosebud in his lapel only emphasized his virility.

In order to get her hormones under control, she’d convinced herself that Travis was vain as a peacock. She visualized him preening in front of the mirror, combing his rich brown hair, gazing into the tawny depths of those bedroom eyes of his and winking at his reflection before he walked out to face his admirers. But a peacock wouldn’t let a baby suck on the shoulder of his coat. A peacock wouldn’t let that same baby pull on his string tie until it came undone. A peacock wouldn’t have come to Gwen and Elizabeth’s rescue in the first place.

The organ music swelled, and with some effort Gwen turned her gaze away from Travis and Elizabeth in order to give Matty the respect and attention she deserved.

Matty came down the aisle, regal in the simple white gown Gwen had insisted she wear, despite this being a second marriage. Gwen had advised her on the flowers, too, and the old-fashioned bouquet of rosebuds, lavender and ivy was exactly right for Matty. Watching her, Gwen felt her throat tighten with happiness, pride, and a trace of longing.

Her friend had never looked more radiant. The expression of pure love on Matty’s face made Gwen yearn for something she hadn’t wished for in a very long time—a love of her own. Both she and Matty had hooked up with scoundrels the first time around, but Matty hadn’t let that stop her from dreaming. Now she had a man who would lay down his life for her.

Gwen swallowed the lump in her throat. Men like Sebastian Daniels were rare, and she knew it. The rancher’s good looks could have served him well as a lady-killer, but instead he was humble, sweet, and adorably dense about the effect he had on women. He was the exact opposite of Travis, who was all too aware that women swooned when he walked by.

But Gwen would not swoon. By God, she would not swoon.

As Matty joined Sebastian at the altar, Gwen sneaked a peek at Travis to see how he was getting along with Elizabeth. He was rumpled and damned sexy-looking from dealing with the baby. He’d removed his boutonniere, probably so Elizabeth wouldn’t stick herself on the pin or try to eat the rosebud. Gwen was impressed with his caution.

Continuing to keep the baby entertained, he played nosey-nosey with her, and she chuckled, a low sound of feminine delight. No doubt about it, Travis had a way with the fairer sex, regardless of age.

On a hunch, Gwen glanced around the small church. The men were watching the ceremony. But as she’d expected, the women, ranging from eight to eighty, were watching Travis. From their expressions of open adoration, Gwen figured Travis would be booked up for the rest of the summer on the basis of this one little scene.

Well, good. The busier he was, the less chance she’d have of running into him. And she wanted to steer clear of Travis Evans. She certainly did. Definitely. The sexual tingle she felt every time she looked at him would go away eventually, especially if she didn’t have to look at him very often. This wedding would be the worst of it. After today, she’d have clear sailing.

But today was a challenge, because she caught herself constantly glancing over at Travis, right along with every other woman in the church. He was strong medicine, especially with that baby.

Maybe he realized the baby was a terrific prop. That thought gave her some comfort. If he was using the baby to get women’s attention, then that made him…calculating. She had no use for a calculating man. Yes, he probably had ulterior motives for holding Elizabeth. What a grandstander, playing with that baby and making every woman in the place drool.

“Gwen,” Matty whispered.

Gwen blinked.

“The ring,” Matty said, her tone amused.

Hot embarrassment flooded through Gwen. She’d lost her place in the proceedings. “Coming right up,” she murmured as she reached in the buggy, found the small box she’d put there and took out the ring. She’d planned to have it ready and waiting when the time came, but she’d become so absorbed with Travis, she’d blown her assignment. Damn that tuxedo-wearing, baby-holding cowboy, anyway.

With new determination she focused on Sebastian and Matty. From her position she could only see the back of Matty’s head, golden curls covered in white tulle. But with her height advantage she could peer right over Matty and watch Sebastian’s face.

And sure enough, he was giving his new bride The Look. Gwen couldn’t define it exactly, but it was a potent combination of love, respect, devotion, lust, appreciation, and a few more emotions she hadn’t identified yet. Sebastian’s expression left no doubt in anyone’s mind that Matty was his one and only.

The lump returned to Gwen’s throat. If she were completely honest with herself, she’d have to say that no one, not even her ex, had ever given her The Look. She wondered if she’d go through life without ever experiencing such a moment.

Pull yourself together she lectured herself. Count your blessings. She lived in a gem of a Victorian house and had been lucky enough to keep it after the divorce by opening a bed and breakfast. It turned out she loved the business, although at times she wondered if caring for her guests only took the place of caring for the family she’d always wanted.

But the house gave her roots. The itinerant life of her archeologist parents wasn’t for her, and she’d hated the constant moving as a child. She tallied each year spent in Huerfano with pride, and she was now up to seven, more years than she’d ever stayed in one place in her life.

Maybe running a B&B didn’t stack up well against her parents’ international reputation, or her brother’s prestigious job running a museum in Boston. Maybe they sometimes reminded her that she was twenty-nine and hadn’t done anything with her life. But she wasn’t giving up her house, no matter what anybody said.

“You may kiss the bride,” Pete McDowell said.

A collective sigh went up from the congregation as Sebastian lifted Matty’s veil and cupped her face in his big rancher’s hands.

The tender moment lasted long enough to bring a mist of tears to Gwen’s eyes. Then Elizabeth began chortling and wiggling in Travis’s arms.

Scene-stealer, Gwen thought, and she wasn’t sure whether she meant Elizabeth or Travis. She wondered what would happen with that little baby. Her mother, Jessica Franklin, seemed to be on the run from something or someone and wanted her daughter out of danger. Jessica had been gone for six weeks, long enough for Matty and Sebastian to bond with Elizabeth.

Personally, Gwen figured Travis was the baby’s father, not Sebastian. But in the event Jessica never returned, Sebastian and Matty would provide a better home for the little girl than a playboy like Travis. Even Travis agreed on that point. Still, he seemed quite possessive of the baby and argued every time Sebastian tried to claim paternity.

But neither of them would find out who was Elizabeth’s father until Jessica chose to tell them. She’d called a few times to check on Elizabeth, but she’d never stayed on the line long enough to answer any questions.

Gwen had never encountered something this strange, but maybe Jessica knew what she was doing. Elizabeth was safe and surrounded by people who loved her, including Gwen, although she was trying not to get too attached.

She’d learned detachment during a childhood of constant moving, losing both friends and familiar surroundings. So she’d kept in mind that Jessica could appear at any time and take the baby away, although she might have a fight on her hands at this point. Even from Travis. And he was good with the baby, Gwen admitted grudgingly. Still, he couldn’t be counted on. Not in the long run.

“I give you Mr. and Mrs. Sebastian Daniels,” Pete McDowell said in his deep, booming voice.

The congregation broke into applause and Sarah Jane launched into the recessional.

Gwen blinked back tears as Matty and Sebastian walked back down the aisle, arm in arm. She was so happy for her friend. And maybe a little sorry for herself, but she’d get over it.

Then she looked across at Travis. With sentiment running high at this moment, she was in no shape to deal with him, but deal with him she must.

It wouldn’t be for long. A walk down the aisle, a dance at the reception, and she’d be free of her obligation to fraternize with him. And it would be good riddance.

She pushed the buggy toward the center aisle. As Travis met her there with Elizabeth, Gwen inclined her head toward the buggy, indicating Travis could put Elizabeth back inside.

“I don’t want to risk it,” he murmured.

“Suit yourself.” Pushing the buggy required two hands. During rehearsal they’d linked arms and each put a hand on the wooden handle to push the buggy back down the aisle.

But that wouldn’t work now. Travis couldn’t hold the baby, link arms with Gwen, and lend a hand pushing the buggy, so Gwen decided they could forego linking arms. Just as well.

She used both hands to push the buggy, expecting Travis to simply fall in step beside her. Instead he shifted Elizabeth to his outside arm and slipped his free arm around Gwen’s waist. Instantly her heart started chugging like a freight train.

“That’s not necessary,” she said, a smile pasted on her face for the benefit of the congregation. Looks of envy came shooting at her from all sides.

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.” She tried to ease away. She was entirely too close to him and his spicy aftershave, especially after she’d just witnessed the emotional joining of her two best friends.

“Yes, it is.” His grip tightened at her waist, sending shock waves all through her body. “We’re supposed to look as if we’re together.”

“Casually together, not plastered together.” Oh, but his hand felt good right there. She registered the imprint of each of his fingers through the soft material of her dress.

“Take it easy, sweetheart.”

“I am most definitely not your sweetheart.” And if her nerves jumped at his words, that was only because nobody had spoken an endearment to her in a while.

“Too bad for both of us. Listen, I know you hate me and this is torture for you, but we’re almost done.”

Oh, it was torture, all right. Torture of the highest order. And how she wished that hate was the emotion she was feeling for this man.

2

TRAVIS HAD ACTED on impulse, tucking Gwen against him as they proceeded up the aisle. Pure devilment had made him do it, probably, knowing how much she loathed him. Funny, though, once they were hip to hip, he felt her tremble.

He recognized that tremble. Women tended to do that when he touched them, but he wouldn’t have expected that reaction from Gwen, who’d let him know she wasn’t even slightly interested.

So when she started squawking about his behavior he held her tighter, to test her reaction to increased contact. Sure enough, that quiver got worse, and her skin flushed pink.

He noticed the color in her cheeks, and because he was a healthy male animal, he also noticed the color spread to the swell of her breasts above the green material of her dress. The way he figured it, if a woman chose to wear a neckline like that, she could expect a man to look his fill. He indulged for as long as he dared, which was only a few seconds, considering he and Gwen were in a very public place.

When he forced himself to look away, he was trembling a bit himself. Fantasies of unzipping her dress and sampling those generous breasts swirled through his mind, affecting his breathing.

She wasn’t breathing so easy herself, and her agitation stirred up the erotic, cinnamon-flavored perfume she wore, which excited him even more. By the time they reached the back of the church and moved through the doors into the vestibule where Matty and Sebastian stood waiting, Travis had decided it might be worth his time to cut through the barbed wire Gwen had strung around herself to keep him out.

So what if he wasn’t husband material? He’d taught several women that good sex didn’t have to lead to everlasting love. Mutual enjoyment was justification enough for climbing between the sheets, in his opinion. Gwen needed to expand her options, and he was the guy to help her. If Lizzie hadn’t been twisting his ear during the entire walk down the aisle, it would have been an outstanding interlude.

If he’d had any doubt about Gwen’s reaction to him, she erased it once they passed through the main chapel doors. She wrenched away from him as if she’d been cuddled up to a hot stove. An indifferent woman wouldn’t have made such a big production out of escaping.

Avoiding his gaze, she abandoned the buggy and rushed over to hug Matty. “I’m so happy for you!” she said.

Travis knew Gwen’s sentiments were sincere, but there was a quivery edge to her voice, as if she might not be in complete control of herself. That pleased him. After their walk down the aisle, he’d had to take a few deep breaths, himself. He caught Matty looking at him over Gwen’s shoulder, and he shrugged.

Then he pried Lizzie’s fingers from his ear before walking over and holding out his hand to Sebastian. “Well, it’s too late to turn back now, buddy.”

Sebastian was grinning all over as he clasped Travis’s hand. “We really did it, didn’t we?”

“I do believe you did. Congratulations. You roped yourself a keeper.” He turned to Matty, who looked happier than he’d ever seen her. He’d been her head wrangler at the Leaning L through the bad years with Butch, and the lonely years after Butch crashed his plane into a mountain. Technically she was his boss, but he loved her like a sister, and he was pleased as punch that she and Sebastian had finally figured out they were meant to be more than good neighbors.

Continuing to balance Lizzie in one arm, he leaned down and gave Matty a kiss on the cheek. “I hope you know you’ve hitched up with the stubbornest cow-poke in the valley,” he murmured. “If he gives you any problems, let me know and I’ll kick his butt for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Matty said, her blue eyes twinkling.

“Nice going, Travis.” Sebastian clapped him on the back. “I had Matty convinced I was perfect, but you had to open your yap and ruin my image.”

“My pleasure.” Travis smiled, then winced as Lizzie crowed happily, grabbed his nose and pinched hard. “The kid’s got the instincts of a steer wrestler,” he said as he peeled her fingers away.

Matty laughed. “I’ve taught her all she knows. I’m hoping she’ll have that nose thing perfected by the time she’s eighteen.”

Travis figured now wasn’t the time to mention there was a chance Lizzie wouldn’t grow up on the Rocking D. Matty was more attached to this baby than she knew. “She’s got the nose thing perfected now,” he said, grabbing Lizzie’s hand before she could latch on again.

Matty held out her arms. “Let me hold her while we take care of this reception line business. You’ve been tortured enough.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Gwen said.

Travis shot her a look. The old defiance was back in her dark eyes, but he wasn’t intimidated by it anymore. Underneath all her bluster was a woman aching to be kissed, and kissed well. He wondered if he might find the opportunity to take care of that before the night was out.

“Lizzie’s okay with me,” Travis said. “She’ll be fine, now that we got rid of that bow apparatus.”

“I knew that bow was a bad idea,” Matty said, glancing at her new husband, “but Sebastian insisted on making her look like a girl.”

“I liked the bow,” Sebastian said, a stubborn gleam in his eye.

“Well, she didn’t,” Matty said. “And I’m proud of her for sticking to her guns.” She turned back to Travis. “Hand over that little dickens. I miss her already.”

Travis eyed Matty’s white dress. He had a rough idea what the dress cost, and he’d heard some talk about keeping it for the next generation of brides in the Daniels family. He didn’t think Lizzie’s baby drool would improve the dress any. “I’ll hang on to her. That outfit of yours is a keepsake, and this tux is only rented. Might as well keep the mess concentrated in one spot.”

Matty looked down at her dress. “You have a point. I’m not used to being dolled up like this, and I keep forgetting I have to be careful.” She smiled at Travis. “Thank you for your sacrifice. You saved the day.”

“Sacrifice?” Gwen said. “Ha. He eats this stuff with a spoon. He—”

“Maybe we’d better set up our reception line,” Matty said quickly. “People are heading this way. Gwen, you’ll be first, then Travis, then Sebastian, then—”

“There’s that adorable baby!” shrieked Donna Rathbone, kindergarten teacher and one of Travis’s former girlfriends.

Donna had called him her teacher’s pet, he remembered. He had fond memories of hot summer nights about two years ago. Donna hurried through the double doors of the main chapel and headed straight for him, followed by half the congregation, all female, and all jabbering about the baby.

“Then again, maybe we should put Travis first in line,” Matty said as the women enveloped him in a sea of pastels and perfume.

MATTY AND Sebastian had decided to hold the reception inside a large tent on the Rocking D, and from Gwen’s vantage point at the head table, the whole town seemed to be packed inside the tent’s white canvas walls. Tiny clear lights strung from the tent poles sparkled in celebration and centerpieces of spring flowers bloomed on each linen-covered table. The bar was open and the buffet table was crowded with food.

Sensual pleasures teased Gwen from all sides—succulent barbecued beef and rich red wine, the seductive beat of a country tune, the scent of juniper every time the breeze lifted a tent flap a few inches. And then there was Travis in his rumpled tux, an attraction more compelling than the bride and groom, apparently.

Women surrounded him constantly, whether he happened to be holding Elizabeth or not. He was a very busy man as he tended to his many admirers, and yet every few minutes he’d pause, find Gwen in the throng, and send her a smile or a wink.

She tried to be unaffected…and failed. It was heady stuff to be singled out by the man who was clearly adored by every woman in the room. But the dinner part of the reception had nearly ended, and soon the dancing would begin, which meant she’d be expected to dance with Travis. And no matter how seductive the atmosphere, no matter how appealing the man, she must not give in to his considerable charms.

She’d known Travis would be trouble the first day she’d laid eyes on him while paying a visit to Matty’s ranch. About four years earlier, she and Matty had met over the yarn counter at Coogan’s Department Store and discovered they both had a passion for weaving. Their friendship had blossomed.

Gwen had taken up the craft as a way to heal after her divorce from Derek. Eventually she discovered that Matty used her floor loom as therapy while she dealt with an unhappy marriage, which gave the two women even more in common.

They enjoyed each other’s company tremendously, and the only fly in the ointment had been Gwen’s occasional forced interaction with Matty’s head wrangler. Travis reminded her way too much of Derek. He pushed all the same buttons Derek had, making her pulse race with a look, her breath catch with a devilish grin. But Gwen had no intention of losing her heart to another rascal too handsome for his own good.

Fortunately Travis spent winters at his place in Utah, which meant Gwen only had to deal with him during the summer. Because summer was high season at Hawthorne House, she was usually too busy to socialize much. She’d been so subtle about avoiding Travis that even Matty hadn’t known of her vulnerability until recently…until Elizabeth had turned all their lives topsy-turvy.

The baby was presently sitting on Sebastian’s lap while Matty played patty-cake with her. Gwen smiled at the picture they made. No doubt about it, Elizabeth had totally changed Matty and Sebastian’s life, fortunately for the better. But Matty and Sebastian belonged together. Gwen and Travis did not, and she’d be wise to keep that firmly in mind.

Travis returned to his place at the head table just as the band finished a tune. He signaled to the band, picked up his wineglass and raised it. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?”

That would be no problem for the ladies, Gwen thought. At the sound of Travis’s rich baritone, they’d all turned toward him like daisies to sunlight.

“I’d like to propose a toast to the bride and groom.” He grinned. “You know, this is gonna be like shooting fish in a barrel, Sebastian.”

“Roast him, Travis!” called one of the ranchers from a table in the back of the room.

Gwen rolled her eyes. Travis would make a joke of this, the way he made a joke of everything.

“Well, you folks ain’t heard nothin’ until you’ve heard Sebastian Daniels croon Ghost Riders in the Sky,” Travis said. “If I’d been writing your vows, buddy, I would’ve made Matty promise to love, cherish, and put up with a round of Ghost Riders every blessed morning in the shower. Oh, and I don’t want to forget the yodeling. Did you tell her about that, yet?”

Gwen laughed along with everyone else, including Matty and Sebastian.

Travis cleared his throat and Gwen prepared herself for more jokes.

But Travis was no longer smiling, and his tone had changed. “Yodeling aside, I’ve known Sebastian Daniels for a lot of years, and he’s one hell of a friend. If you’re in trouble, this is the man to call. His heart’s bigger than the whole Sangre de Cristo range.”

Gwen stared at Travis. Just when she thought she knew what to expect from him, he did the exact opposite.

“Sebastian loves this land,” Travis said. “Until recently, I didn’t think he could love anything, or anyone, more than this paradise he calls the Rocking D. But I was wrong. His fondness for this ranch is a drop in the bucket compared to the way he feels about the woman sitting next to him.”

Emotion clogged Gwen’s throat. She could take anything from Travis except heartfelt sincerity.

“And he’s found his soul mate in Matty,” Travis continued. “Matty is true-blue, the straightest shooter I’ve ever known. If there is such a thing as a match made in heaven, you’re looking at it. God bless, Matty and Sebastian. I’m proud to be here.”

Gwen was destroyed. She clapped furiously and blinked back tears. Then she took a quick sip of wine to toast the newlyweds and grabbed a napkin to dab at her eyes.

The band started playing a waltz, and Sebastian handed Elizabeth to Travis. “Thanks,” he said, his voice suspiciously hoarse. “That was…damned nice.”

“Outstanding,” Matty said, sniffing.

“I meant every word,” Travis said. “Now go have that first dance, Mr. and Mrs. Daniels. You deserve it.” He sat down next to Gwen and propped Elizabeth on his lap. “What’d you think?” He sounded as if he actually cared.

“Great.” Gwen took another gulp of her wine and choked on it. She snatched up her napkin again and held it over her mouth while she coughed.

“Easy, now.” With one arm wrapped around Elizabeth, he leaned over and patted Gwen on the back. “Didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

She glanced at him. The hell he didn’t. At least she had an excuse for the tears in her eyes as she continued to cough and gasp for breath.

“And now let’s have the best man and the maid of honor on the floor,” announced the band leader.

Travis leaned closer. “Are you up to it?”

She coughed once more. “Sure,” she said hoarsely. “But what about Elizabeth?”

“We’ll take her along.” He stood and pulled back Gwen’s chair.

Stupid her, she was disappointed that they were taking Elizabeth. What a dope she was, feeling sorry because she wouldn’t have Travis all to herself. She was twenty times safer if they danced with Elizabeth cradled between them, and safety was important. Self-preservation was imperative.

Unfortunately Travis’s speech had derailed her protective instincts and stirred up needs she would do well to bury, especially when she was around this man.

Travis guided her with a hand at her elbow as they wound through the tables to the dance floor. Once again Gwen became aware of the envy coming at her in waves. She and Travis would dance this one, obligatory number. After that, he’d be mobbed and she wouldn’t have to worry about protecting herself from his advances. She should be happy about that, not depressed.

“How about if you hold Lizzie?” Travis asked as they stepped onto the temporary dance floor that had been erected in one corner of the tent. “Then I can hold both of you.” Without waiting for an answer, he transferred the baby neatly into Gwen’s arms.

Elizabeth was growing limp and her eyes drooped with fatigue.

Gwen cradled the little girl in her arms, and with a yawn Elizabeth laid her head trustingly on Gwen’s shoulder and closed her eyes. Gwen’s heart swelled with pleasure as she turned her head and brushed a kiss against the baby’s velvet cheek.

In the past few weeks, Gwen had tried to keep some distance from this cherub, but she was afraid that distance had just disappeared. She’d fallen in love with the baby like everyone else who came within Elizabeth’s charmed circle. If Elizabeth ever left Huerfano, the town would be wall-to-wall with broken hearts.

“Perfect,” Travis murmured, as he wrapped his arms around Gwen and Elizabeth and gently led them into a slow, swaying dance.

The baby sighed and gave in to sleep, relaxing completely against Gwen.

The dance should have been harmless, even platonic, Gwen thought. But she hadn’t counted on having to look directly into Travis’s eyes while they moved to the music. Cheek-to-cheek would have been one kind of sensual temptation, but gazing into those golden eyes seemed even more intimate.

He held her gaze, and even though his arms cradled her loosely, she felt cinched in tight by the warmth in his eyes. She couldn’t glance away without seeming cowardly, or nervous, or lacking in confidence.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Gwen,” he said.

She lifted her chin. “I’m not.”

In sleep, Elizabeth’s hand slipped down and rested on the swell of Gwen’s breast. The innocent touch ignited Gwen’s already heated nerve endings.

Travis glanced down with a hint of a smile. Then his gaze moved back up and lingered on Gwen’s mouth before returning to her eyes. There was a flicker of heat in the tawny depths that hadn’t been there before. “Yeah, you’re afraid,” he said. “The pulse in your throat is going like sixties. But I won’t hurt you.”

She swallowed and tried to calm her breathing. Her senses filled with the scent of baby powder mingled with the spicy aroma of Travis’s aftershave. A baby and a man to love—she hadn’t realized how much she wanted that. Longing washed over her. “That’s right, you won’t hurt me, because I won’t give you the chance.”

“You know, there’s a big difference between me and your ex.”

“I don’t want to talk about Derek.”

“We won’t. I have something to tell you about me.”

She tried not to respond to the caressing tone in his voice. “I know all I need to know about you.”

“I don’t think so. Otherwise you wouldn’t be afraid. Gwen, the only way people get hurt is when promises are broken. I won’t do that.”

She shivered at the way he spoke her name. “Because you don’t make promises?”

“Not the forever kind.” His fingers traced lazy patterns over her back. “But I can promise to make love to you honestly, thoroughly, and tenderly for whatever time we decide to spend together.”

She didn’t want him to know he was arousing her, but those eyes probably saw everything—her rapid breathing, her beating pulse, her flushed skin.

“If we both know what to expect going in, then nobody gets hurt,” he murmured.

Oh, he was good. She wanted him to kiss her so much she could taste it. “I’ll bet there are several women with broken hearts who wouldn’t agree with your reasoning.”

“Then they lied to themselves. I never lied to them.”

His mouth was beautiful, she thought. Every woman should have a chance to kiss a mouth like that once in her life. And if the rest of him lived up to the sensuous promise of his mouth….

“You’re thinking about it,” he said. “That’s a start.”

“I’m thinking about what an arrogant man you are.” Excitingly arrogant. She wondered if she was capable of lovemaking with no strings. Pleasure without promises. For the long run, it didn’t fit into her dreams. But a forever man seemed like a distant and unreachable goal, and in the meantime she could allow herself to enjoy…no, it was too risky. But the fact that she was even wondering what it would be like to have an affair with Travis meant that he’d breached her defenses.

“I’m far from arrogant,” he said, subtly caressing her back. “I can’t afford to be when you have all the power.”

“Ha. You’re a world-class flirt, Travis. I can’t even play in your league.”

“You’re selling yourself short. When I saw you come down the aisle of the church in that dynamite dress, my knees almost gave out. I’m a desperate man, Gwen, begging you to soften your heart.”

She was getting soft, all right. Soft in the head, heart, everywhere. Outrageous though his compliments were, they were having an effect. Soon she’d be putty in his hands. “I don’t want to be another notch on your belt,” she said.

He smiled, slow and sexy, his eyes alight with banked passion. “Then let me be a notch in yours.”

3

TRAVIS PRIDED HIMSELF on his ability to handle a room full of women and make each one of them feel special, but this reception was taxing his powers. And to be truthful, his heart wasn’t in the effort. Flattering as it was to have all these ladies asking him to dance, he would have preferred a quiet little bar, a jukebox and Gwen in his arms.

He wasn’t happy about the fact that she was out on the floor nearly as often as he was, and that she seemed to be having such a good time. Damn it, she wanted him. He’d seen it in her eyes when they’d shared that one frustrating dance, and he’d hoped for another dance with her once Elizabeth was tucked into the little bassinet Sebastian had set up in a corner. No telling where another dance might lead, considering the look in her eyes following the first one. He was eager to stoke the fire he’d started.

Instead he’d been besieged by the female population of Huerfano. He’d danced with nearly every woman in the room, and he’d been offered enough pieces of wedding cake to open his own bakery. Apparently his stint with Lizzie at the altar combined with his wedding toast had made him a very popular guy. Ordinarily he would have loved it, but tonight he was in a strange, one-woman kind of mood.

He was so busy that he barely had time to get himself a fresh beer. Finally he excused himself from Donna, the kindergarten teacher, and headed for the bar.

“Hey, Romeo.” Sebastian caught his arm as he was heading back into the fray, a cold long-neck in one hand. “Got a minute?” He glanced at Travis’s beer. “I’ll buy you a drink.”

Travis grinned, turned back to the bartender and lifted his bottle. “Get another one of these for the bridegroom, would you? The poor guy needs to live it up while he still has the chance.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it tough,” Sebastian said as he took the offered beer. “Not every guy could handle being married to a goddess, but fortunately I’m up to the job. Come on, let’s get some air.”

“I can see right off that my speech gave you a swelled head.” Travis followed Sebastian outside. The air was cold, but it felt good after all the exercise he’d been getting on the dance floor. “Keep it up and I’ll be obliged to round up a few guys to toss you in the horse trough.”

“You think I’ve got a swelled head?” Sebastian leaned against the fender of the caterer’s truck and unfastened the top button of his tux shirt. The string tie had been abandoned long ago. “After all the attention you’ve been getting tonight, it’ll take three men and a boy to cram your hat on in the morning.” He lifted his beer toward Travis and smiled. “Here’s to one hell of a wedding.”

Travis clinked his bottle to Sebastian’s. “A great party for a great reason.” He took a long swallow.

Sebastian sipped his beer and looked up at the night sky. “Full moon.”

“I ordered it special.”

Sebastian laughed. “Funny thing is, I believe you.”

“Hey, I can do anything I set my mind to.”

“Uh, huh. Evans, you really should work on that lack of confidence problem.”

“I know what I know.”

“Okay, you’re amazing. But listen, I’ve been going over this honeymoon trip again, and I really think I ought to hire somebody to help you with Elizabeth while Matty and I are in Denver. We don’t leave until noon, so I’m sure I could find somebody if I started calling around in the morning.”

Travis stiffened. “You don’t trust me with her.”

“Sure I do. Well, maybe I didn’t at first, but you’ve got the basics down. I’m worried about what you’ll do if something goes wrong, though. We’d be at least three hours getting home, assuming we even got the message right away, and—”

“You are such an old granny, Daniels. I swear. I can handle it. If it’s major I’ll go to Doc Harrison. If it’s minor, I’ll go to Gwen.” He’d just now thought of that, but the idea appealed to him. Not that he wanted any emergency to crop up concerning Lizzie. But the combination of him and the baby seemed to melt women’s hearts. It might have a thawing effect on Gwen, too. Yeah, he just might have to consult Gwen on some baby-care question.

“What’s up with you and Gwen, anyway?”

“What do you mean?” Travis took another swig of his beer, so he’d look cool and casual as he answered the question.

“I thought you two were like oil and water, but you were blending together pretty good during that dance earlier tonight.”

“I think she’s figured out I don’t have horns and a forked tail, after all.”

Sebastian gazed at him. “You do anything to hurt that woman, and Matty’ll be the one with the pitchfork, aiming it straight at your sorry ass.”

Travis blew out a breath. “Why does everybody think I’m out to break women’s hearts?”

“It couldn’t be on account of all the women you’ve left in tears, now could it?”

“Look, I’ve told each and every one of them I’m not in for the long haul. Is it my fault they won’t listen?”

Sebastian took a drink of his beer and glanced up at the moon. “I told Matty I couldn’t get serious, either, because of the baby and thinking I’d have to ask Jessica to marry me. That didn’t stop Matty from getting hurt.” He glanced back at Travis. “You can’t order a woman not to fall in love with you.”

Travis shifted uncomfortably under Sebastian’s scrutiny. “I don’t want Gwen to fall in love with me. I just—”

“Yeah, I know what you just. That dress she’s wearing would make a monk leave his order.”

Travis grinned. “Or revive a corpse at a wake.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Or replace Viagra.”

“I’m only human.”

“I know all about your humanity,” Sebastian said. “You’re a legend in your own time. But go easy on this, okay? Gwen’s a sweet lady and she had a rough few years with that husband of hers.”

“I promise to be careful. We won’t do anything that’s not in our mutual best interests.”

Sebastian nodded. “Good. And one other thing. If Jessica comes back while Matty and I are in Denver, you make her stay at the ranch until we can get home, okay?”

“Damn right I will. Jessica has some explaining to do, to all of us.” And telling them who was Lizzie’s father was the first thing, Travis thought. But he knew in his heart the little girl was his. Looks aside, Lizzie had his temperament. She was smart, easygoing and loved everybody.

“If I’m not convinced Jessica’s in a position to take care of Elizabeth,” Sebastian said, “I’m going to see what I can do about keeping the baby with us. I’ve checked into it, and abandoning your kid puts you on shaky legal ground.”

Travis rubbed the back of his neck. “I still can’t figure why she’d do that. It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing the Jessica we know would even think of. Hell, it was her grit that saved Nat’s life after the avalanche. Something pretty nasty must have scared the daylights out of her, to make her leave her kid like this.”

“Yeah, and I want to find out what.” Sebastian took another swig of his beer. “I’ve decided to hire a private investigator while we’re in Denver.”

“Good. I’ll go halves with you on the fee. This is dragging out way too long.”

“And it damned near made me lose Matty.” Sebastian cocked an ear toward the tent. “And speaking of Matty, we’d better get back in. I think the bouquet and garter-throwing is about to start.”

“Hey, you go ahead. I’d sooner catch a rattlesnake with my bare hands than that garter.”

Sebastian laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know what your problem is, Evans. You’re twenty-eight, for crying out loud. The carefree single life must be getting old by now.”

“Nah. It’s terrific.”

“So’s marriage. Or at least I plan on it being terrific, this time around.”

“For you, maybe. Not for this cowboy.” Travis tipped the bottle back for a deep swallow of beer.

“Well, you gotta come back in and pretend to try for the garter. You’re the best man, which means you should act like you’re part of the proceedings. It’ll look bad if you’re not there.”

“I’ll be in shortly.” Travis lifted his bottle. “And thanks for the beer.”

“It’ll come out of your paycheck. Don’t forget—now that Matty and I are combining our spreads, you’ll be working for me.”

Travis clutched his chest and staggered backward in mock horror. “Don’t tell me I have to start calling you boss?”

“Or Your Royal Highness. Whichever comes easier.”

“How about Your Royal Pain in the Ass?” Travis grinned. “That comes real easy.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “When I throw the garter, I’m aiming for you, hotshot. You need a woman to trim your wick. Now get your butt in there.”

“Shortly.”

“Insubordination already.” Sebastian sighed and went back inside the tent.

Travis figured he’d stall around outside and appear at the tail end of the garter-throwing. He wasn’t overly superstitious, but a guy couldn’t be too careful.

He’d thought about marriage, more than he’d ever admit to Sebastian, and he’d reasoned out that it was too complicated given his present circumstances. A promise was a promise, and he’d made a huge one to his dad before the old man died six years ago. Travis intended to honor that promise and take care of his mother, who depended on him something fierce.

She managed okay during the summer months, when she could walk to the little country store down the road from their place. In the winter, though, when the snow was up to her armpits, she needed Travis there to shovel the walkways and drive her where she had to go.

No one in this valley knew anything about his life in Utah, and that’s the way he liked it. If folks around here thought he was a devil-may-care playboy, that was fine with him. But the truth was that keeping his mother healthy and happy took all of his resources. He couldn’t imagine having enough energy left for a wife.

GWEN HADN’T PLANNED to take part in the bouquet tossing, but Matty had informed her it was obligatory. So she moved to the back of the crowd of women, figuring Matty wouldn’t heave the thing that far.

As the women stood there laughing and joking, Matty turned her back and sent the flowers sailing…right over everybody’s head. Gwen was forced to leap up and snag it or the beautiful bouquet would have landed on the floor. For a split second she considered letting that happen, but that would have created an awkward moment. With skills learned on the volleyball court as a kid, she pulled down the prize.

Everybody in the room cheered, and Gwen stood there holding the bouquet and feeling like a doofus. She was immensely grateful when the attention returned to Matty for the garter removal ceremony.

Amid a chorus of wolf whistles, Matty propped one foot on a chair and pulled back her skirt.

Sebastian quickly and efficiently divested her of the garter. Twirling it neatly around one finger, he turned toward the circle of men. “Show’s over, gents. And let that be the last whistle I hear any of you aim in my wife’s direction. Comprende?”

“Killjoy!” called out one of the cowboys.

“No, husband,” Sebastian replied with a dangerous-looking smile. “Now, where the hell’s Evans?”

Gwen glanced around and realized that Travis hadn’t come back in with Sebastian. She’d seen the two men head outside. Embarrassingly enough, she’d been aware of every move Travis had made that night. None of them had been in her direction.

“Evans?” one of the men said with a laugh. “You’ll never get that ol’ boy within twenty feet of a wedding garter. Toss that thing my way, Daniels. I could use another dance with the Maid of Honor.”

“Not if I get to that lace thingamajig first,” said the cowboy next to him.

“You’ll have to get past me,” said a third man.

Gratifying as it was to have men squabbling over the right to dance with her, Gwen couldn’t work up a smidgen of enthusiasm for any of them. And damn, but she wished she could. They were nice guys, steady guys.

Apparently she hadn’t meditated enough on the dangers of being attracted to a rogue. The only man in the vicinity who held her interest was the last man she should spend time with. Fortunately he was still outside and wasn’t in the running for the garter.

“I guess we’ll have to do this without Evans,” Sebastian said. “And watch those elbows. I’d like to think we’re all gentlemen here,” he added with a grin.

“I’d like to think so, too, but I don’t,” said the first cowboy. “And that garter’s mine.”

“May the best man win.” Sebastian aimed the garter into the air like a slingshot.

“Somebody called?” Travis stepped into the tent.

“Now that’s cutting it close,” Sebastian muttered as he let the garter fly.

Gwen knew Travis had amazing reflexes. He could rope and tie a calf faster than anybody in the valley, and he wasn’t shy about saying so. But the lightning moves he demonstrated as he snatched the garter out of the air left the women gasping and the men swearing.

“What’d you do that for?” complained Jason Litchfield, a lanky cowhand who’d been hitting on Gwen all night. “Everybody knows you’re not lookin’ to get tied down, and catching that thing means you’ll be the next one hitched.”

Travis shrugged and tucked the garter in his pocket as he started toward Gwen. “Maybe, maybe not. But I’ve been wanting to dance with the maid of honor all night, and you boys have been keeping her so busy, I haven’t been able to get close.”

Gwen stood frozen in place, her heart beating like a rabbit’s. There would be no baby between them this time.

Just before Travis reached her, Sebastian came over and clapped him on the back. “Congratulations on catching that garter. It would do my heart good to see you finally settle down with the right woman.”

Travis glanced at him. “It’ll take more than a garter to get me to the altar, buddy.”

“Oh, I’m sure it will.” Sebastian winked at Gwen. “But it’s a start. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to find the previous owner of that garter and take her for a turn around the floor.”

Travis gazed at Gwen. Then he swept out an arm and bowed. “May I have this dance?”

“I guess so.” She put her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. Just the casual interlacing of their fingers quickened her breath. “You worked hard enough for it.”

“Piece of cake. Hand-eye coordination has always been easy for me.”

“And you’re so modest about it, too.”

He chuckled and swung her into his arms.

She rested the hand holding the bridal bouquet on his shoulder, and with every swirl of the waltz step, the fragrance of roses and lavender drifted around them, toying with her senses. She’d expected an aggressively sexual man like Travis to pull her in close and get all the body contact he could manage. Instead he kept several inches between them, guiding her with a firm hand at her waist while cupping her right hand gently, yet expertly, in his.

But once again, he held her captive with his gaze. And Travis could do more with his eyes than any man she’d ever met. She’d danced with many partners tonight, and all of them had pulled her in tight, blatantly announcing their sexual interest with their bodies. Not one of them had made her sizzle.

She was sizzling now. The spot where Travis pressed the small of her back became an erogenous zone, sending arousing signals to every part of her body. His eyes seduced her, inviting her to imagine making love with him. His rhythmic skill on the dance floor hinted at his legendary skill in the bedroom.

She’d heard the whispered rumors about Travis, and her imagination filled in the rest. She guessed that he was the kind of lover women dreamed of in their deepest, most erotic moments. The kind even she had dreamed of, but never planned to have.

Because he was dangerous. He could break her heart so that it would never heal. And yet…he could make her secret fantasies come true, teach her things about her own sensuality that no other man could. But he would not stay. He would never stay.

The silence between them became heavy with unspoken desire. She struggled to break the spell. “I’m amazed you went for the garter,” she said. “I guess you’re not superstitious.”

“I am sort of superstitious.” His grip at her waist tightened a fraction. “But this looked like the only way I was going to get another dance with you. I decided it might be worth tempting fate.”

She swallowed. “And is it?”

“Oh, I think it will be.” His glance swept her face, slid down her throat, settled for a second longer than was polite on her breasts. Then he returned his gaze to her eyes. Hunger flickered there as he drew her a bare inch closer, so that the bodice of her dress brushed the front of his tux shirt, catching lightly on the pearl studs with each movement.

The contact was faint, subtle. Yet her nipples tightened and her breathing grew labored.

“Is that bed and breakfast of yours full?” he murmured.

“Why?” She had to keep her head. “Are you angling for personal service?”

“Nope.” He drew her in a little bit more, causing her sensitive breasts to be crushed gently against the hard wall of his chest. “Just wondered how business was.”

She could feel his heartbeat, rapid like hers. She should push away from him, but couldn’t make herself do it. For the first time in months, maybe years, she felt alive again. “Business is a little slow right now.” She cleared the hoarseness from her throat. “The skiers are gone, and the summer season doesn’t usually get going until after Memorial Day.”

“Hmm.” Neatly, without fanfare, he broke eye contact, snugged her up close and laid his cheek against hers. “So what do you do with yourself all day?”

She closed her eyes against the wash of passion that left her shaking. “I weave,” she whispered. With each movement they made, she felt the nudge of his erection. Her body moistened, pulsed, yearned.

His lips touched her ear. “I like the blanket you made Lizzie. It’s so soft.”

“Mmm.” Oh, she ached as she’d never ached in her life.

His voice was like velvet. “Say yes, Gwen. Say yes and let me love you.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. She didn’t hear the music stop.

But Travis obviously had, because he slowly released her and drew back to look deeply into her eyes. Heat burned in his gaze, and his hands at her waist quivered with urgency. “Please say yes,” he whispered. “I need you.”

She couldn’t speak. His obvious desire called out to her, teasing her with the promise of fantasies fulfilled, begging her to forget everything else and be swept away by shared passion. Calling upon the last scrap of sanity left in her fevered brain, she shook her head.

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