His Convenient Royal Bride. Cara Colter
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you have scones left. Hello, by the way. Nice to see you again.”
He said it as if he really meant it.
“You, too,” she said, and then wished she hadn’t, because she really meant it, too, only she probably really meant it way more than he really meant it.
“If we’ve dispensed with the social niceties?” Lancaster prodded.
Exactly! Social niceties. Meaningless. Not that she wanted them to have meaning. She was done with that kind of thing. The thrill of a handsome man. The excitement of getting to know someone. The feeling of being close. The tingle of hands touching. That incredible sensation of being alive.
She was done with it—but she was aware she longed for it, too. She had told herself she remained in Mountain Bend, after Derek’s betrayal, because she was needed here.
But couldn’t that be a way of hiding?
And now, what she was hiding from appeared to have found her. It was like a chocolate addict giving up bonbons. It was all well and good until someone waved one under your nose.
“Do any scones remain?” Lancaster asked plaintively.
See? She was already drifting off, contemplating the many missed pleasures of bonbons. She drew herself up short.
“Unfortunately, no,” she said. “We’ve had crowds. Once I added the Cornish cream, I couldn’t keep up with the demand.”
“You said you didn’t have any!”
“You’re making the poor man swoon,” Ward pointed out good-naturedly.
She dared not look at him. If he was smiling, and she knew he was—she could tell by the added lilt in his voice—she might be the one swooning!
“I looked up some recipes. It’s really just whipped cream, but done until it’s very nearly butter, yes?”
“Will you marry me?” Lancaster asked. “And if not me, him?”
Despite her vow not to look, she cast a startled glance at Ward, thinking he would be laughing uproariously. Why did Ward not seem to think that was funny?
“Anyway, we sold out, but I have some in the freezer I could get for you.”
“Perhaps a dozen? And as much cream as you’re willing to part with.”
“You’ll get fat,” a voice behind him said. “They’re made with pure butter. And then whipped cream, too? Your arteries won’t thank you. It’s a disgraceful way to treat a beautiful body.”
Lancaster whirled and glared at Sophie. “I’ll thank you not to comment on my arteries. My body is not your business, either.”
“We could change that,” Sophie purred.
“We couldn’t,” Lancaster snapped firmly, much to Maddie’s relief. What was Sophie doing, talking to a virtual stranger like that?
“Mountain Bend is a beautiful place,” Ward said conversationally to Maddie as she returned with frozen scones and packed them in a box. “Our part of the world has some beautiful places, to be sure, but nothing quite this untamed. Sophie mentioned the best sights were known by the locals. Would you say that’s true?”
Maddie nodded, feeling oddly wary.
“Do you think maybe you could show us some? When you’re all wrapped up here? You and the delightful Miss Sophie?”
Maddie felt herself freeze. Did Ward like Sophie? Well, who could blame him? And why did she care? It felt like this treacherous attraction she felt for him had to be quelled immediately. But still, Maddie looked over her shoulder at him, and he was smirking at Lancaster with a certain devilment in his smile. He turned back to her and winked.
Winked!
Immediately, she ordered herself to say no to this. She was not up to a man who could make such a simple thing as a playful wink seem sexy. But somehow that simple word stuck in her throat and would not come out.
“Lancaster and I spent the day trying to find a hot pool,” Ward said, “and despite having a map we did not turn it up.”
“Honeymoon Hot Springs,” Sophie said, excited as a puppy who had been shown a toy. “How did you hear about those? It’s Mountain Bend’s best-kept secret.”
“Someone at our hotel told us.”
That was unusual, but he was charming. He probably just had to smile to get poor old Adele, who worked the front desk at the Cottages, to want immediately to impress him with all the secrets the locals guarded from outsiders. Even now, when they were desperately trying to attract tourists, Honeymoon Hot Springs was rarely mentioned. The name said it all—it was so special to people here. A favorite place for wedding proposals, romantic interludes, honeymoon nights. It was a place couples went for privacy. It was absolutely the wrong place to go with a man you felt the slightest attraction to!
“Naturally, we’d want your, uh, significant other, to come, as well,” Ward said.
“She doesn’t have one!” Sophie said, like someone in possession of a piece of juicy gossip they couldn’t wait to share. “Her fiancé was the world’s biggest jerk.”
Maddie gave Sophie a look that could kill.
“Well, he was,” Sophie said, somehow missing the look entirely. “She came home to look after Kettle, and guess what he did? With her best friend?”
Maddie was mortified. She stared at Sophie in shocked horror. They all stood there in embarrassed distress. Too late, Sophie became aware of her gaffe. She turned stricken eyes to Maddie. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Not to worry,” Maddie said brightly. “I’m sorry, no. Local people don’t like outsiders going there. I have things to do. Thank you for your interest, but I can’t. I—”
“Of course, we’ll show you,” Sophie said, stubbornly, recovering way too quickly from divulging other people’s private lives. She was obviously as thrilled by the men’s interest in that secret place with its reputation for romantic enchantment, as Maddie was not.
“Sophie,” she said. “It’s—”
But Sophie cut her off with a toss of her thick black hair. “I will, if she won’t.”
There! Sophie had managed to make her sound like a terrible stick-in-the-mud. Had she become a terrible stick-in-the-mud? A person thrown over for another who could not get over it? She thought of her life since she’d returned to Mountain Bend. Work and worry.
She turned stiffly and handed the box of scones to Lancaster. “If there’s anything else?” Yes, she recognized it. The voice of a stick-in-the-mud, a woman whose broken heart would no doubt lead her to spinsterhood.
It was what Kettle loved about her, she reminded herself!
But then, ever so naturally, Ward laid his hand across Maddie’s wrist. His hand was warm and dry and his touch was firm. But more, his touch transmitted something of his power. She could feel the jolt of his substantial and seductive energy surge up the whole length of her arm.
It occurred to Maddie he was not a man accustomed to people saying no to him, which made it all the more imperative that she do exactly that!
“Please say yes,” Ward said softly.
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