The Wedding Party Collection. Кейт Хьюит
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but something he saw in Chad’s eyes. Something that told him there was more going on here. Something that said he’d be playing right into Chad’s hands if he hit him.
“Get out.” He dropped his fists. “Don’t come back.”
Chad just chuckled, turned on his heel and sauntered from the office without another word.
Ryan followed him to the front office and locked the door behind him. By the time Ryan returned to Betsy, she was picking up the last of the flowers from the floor.
She straightened, her face pale. “What do you think he wanted?”
“No idea.” Ryan thought for a moment. “But you were right. It was as if he wanted me to hit him.”
Even knowing that, Ryan found himself wishing he’d smacked the guy. Just once. Okay, maybe twice. The thought of Chad trying to force himself on Betsy still made him see red.
Even though he didn’t say it aloud, he vowed he’d make sure Chad Dunlop got what was coming to him.
Ryan opened his arms to Betsy. “Come here.”
Betsy shook her head, her jaw set in a stubborn tilt. “Not here. Not ever again.”
The look in her eye told Ryan not to push the issue. “Can I get you a vase for the flowers?”
“You have one?”
“Several.” He kept his tone light. “When Caroline worked for me, she got flowers all the time.”
Betsy’s eyes widened. “From you?”
“Of course not,” he said. “From her husband.”
“I’m sorry.” A pained look crossed her face and the bleakness in her eyes tore at his heart. “I’m really making a mess of things.”
“What are you talking about?” He moved close, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. Propriety be damned. This was the woman he loved and she was hurting. “It’s me who can’t keep my hands off you.”
“The way Chad looked at me.” She shivered. “I felt so dirty.”
“He’s an ass.” Ryan clenched his jaw. “If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t come around here again.”
“What are you going to do if he does?” she asked with a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob.
“He won’t.” Chad had gotten off easy today. And he’d better keep his distance, otherwise Ryan might be forced to give him a lesson in old-fashioned cowboy justice.
* * *
The next few weeks passed quickly. Christmas came and went. Betsy couldn’t remember ever being happier. Ryan’s friends had become her friends. Best of all she felt as if they’d accepted her for herself, rather than just as Ryan’s girlfriend.
Tripp called and asked her out, but she was always busy with Ryan. After a while he quit calling. Betsy began to believe the medallion’s promise would be fulfilled, even if she couldn’t find the blasted coin.
It had to be in her apartment somewhere. The medallion had disappeared around the time she and Ryan had made love for the first time. She hadn’t seen it since. She’d even searched Puffy’s bedding, but all she’d gotten for that effort was a long stare from the tiny Pom.
Tonight, the coin barely crossed her mind. The only thing she could think of was how handsome Ryan looked in a tux. When he’d invited her to attend the Jackson Hole Memorial Hospital’s annual winter formal with him, she hadn’t known what to say except, of course, yes.
Apparently the legal work he did for the hospital had landed him a spot on their much-coveted invitation list. Betsy was excited not only because it would the first dressy event they would attend together, but also because so many of their friends would be there.
She waited in the foyer of the Spring Gulch Country Club while Ryan checked their coats. Even though it was near freezing outside, Betsy had left her Eskimo parka at home. Adrianna had come through with a black velvet cape that was both warm and stylish.
The wrap was a perfect accompaniment to Betsy’s new cocktail dress. Made of black satin, it clung to her curves in the most flattering way. She’d taken extra time with her hair and makeup and was confident she looked her best. Although Ryan had always been effusive in his compliments, if the look in his eyes was any indication, once they got home tonight, the dress wouldn’t be on for long.
That was fine with Betsy because when she’d seen him in his tux, unbuttoning the pristine white shirt had been at the forefront of her mind.
After all these weeks she couldn’t believe how well they meshed. Both in and out of bed. They enjoyed the same activities. Skiing. Riding bulls. Long walks under the stars when the air was so cold that Puffy had to wear a coat. Yet on nights when the snow fell heavily and the north wind howled, merely sitting by the fire watching a movie and holding hands was fun.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look this evening?”
Her handsome prince had returned.
“About a thousand times, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again.”
“You are, without a doubt, the loveliest woman in the room tonight.”
The sentiment was so over-the-top that Betsy had to smile. When she was with Ryan she felt beautiful.
He leaned close and lowered his voice. “After we go home, I’ll show you just what I think of that beautiful bod of yours.”
A delightful sense of anticipation skittered up her spine. Betsy placed her lips so close to his ear that it was all she could do not to nibble. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine.”
“C’mon, you two, move it along.”
Betsy straightened, immediately recognizing the deep voice with a hint of an East Coast accent. “Tripp.”
“Doesn’t someone look extrapretty this evening.” Tripp’s appreciative gaze lingered.
“Thank you,” she said, cursing the blasted heat rising up her neck. She wasn’t sure if it was his compliment or the fact that she’d blown him off that was making her blush.
Tripp gestured with his head toward Ryan. “This guy treating you right?”
Ryan’s gray eyes flashed, a warning Tripp seemed determined to ignore.
Betsy looped her arm through Ryan’s. “Extremely well.”
The tension on Ryan’s face eased.
“Well, if he doesn’t,” Tripp said, obviously joking but managing to sound completely serious, “you’ve got my number.”
“Thank you, Tripp,” Betsy said.
“She won’t need it,” Ryan said pointedly.
Tripp just winked at Betsy, slapped Ryan on the back and sauntered off.
“I don’t know where he gets off—”
Betsy placed a finger over Ryan’s lips. “He doesn’t matter. I’m right where I want to be.”
They stood at the entrance to the ballroom, which had been turned into a winter wonderland. Even the chandelier made out of antlers had white lights and greenery. Round linen-clad tables surrounded a large mahogany dance floor. Lights from flickering candles scattered throughout the room cast a romantic, golden glow.
A live band playing dance music brought men in tuxedos and women in fancy dresses to the floor. It was a world Betsy had never been exposed to, but surprisingly it didn’t feel at all foreign. Probably because so many of the couples in attendance were friends.
Ryan held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
“How can I refuse?” Betsy gazed up at him through lowered lashes.