Just Say Yes!. Leanna Wilson
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Her hand inched downward and cupped his backside. He choked and grabbed her wrist. Her tiny bones felt as fragile as winter twigs. Would his news snap her in two? “Annie—”
“I know. You want it to be a surprise.” Raising on tiptoe, she nuzzled his neck and sent shock waves along his spine. “Boy, do I have some surprises in store for you!”
Dammit! I’ve got a whopper for you, too, lady. Now, get yourself under control, Stevens! She’s a woman, just like any other. But why was telling this bride proving to be so much more difficult than the last two?
“I’m anxious for us to be there, for us to finally make love. This waiting is about to kill me.” She pressed her breasts against his chest, which somehow suddenly made the room as hot as a Fourth of July firecracker.
His mind spun with the news that his brother had never made love to this bride. Maybe she’d insisted they wait. Maybe that’s why Griffin had been so eager to get to the altar.
Gazing up at him, her eyelids drooped lazily…seductively. “Want to start now? The wedding can’t start without us.”
“Whoa, lady!” Grant cleared his throat, choking on his desire, his deception. “Ah, Annie, I—I’m not who you think I am.”
“None of us are.” She gave him a smile that scrambled his thoughts like fresh eggs.
How the hell had Griffin ever managed to propose with her gabbing and grabbing? Grant couldn’t get a word in edgewise or keep his thoughts straight, much less tell her he wasn’t Griffin—and that her groom wasn’t coming to the wedding! He moved his hands away from her warm, satiny-smooth waist and up to her shoulders. “Annie—”
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said in a voice as smooth as warm honey. “This is all so sudden. We didn’t date long. We hardly know each other. I think it’s sweet that you want to make sure I’m making the right decision.” Her hand caressed his jaw. She drew a sensual line from his ear to his chin with her thumb, making his knees as weak as a newborn colt’s. “You simply swept me off my feet. What choice did I have but to agree to marry you?”
“Uh…” Disentangling himself from her arms, he stepped away and was finally able to draw a more coherent thought and deeper breath. “I’m Grant.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Grant Stevens.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“Griff’s…” He shook his head, clearing out the confusion in his own mind. “Griffin’s brother.”
Her gaze swept over him, narrowing with confusion and disbelief. “Aunt Maudie said…she saw you…that Griff’s here.” Her hands clenched. “He is here.”
“No, she must have seen me. You got me confused with Griffin, too.”
“But you look just like—”
“We’re twins.” He bit the words out. “We do not look alike. His eyes are hazel. Mine are gray.”
She leaned toward him, resting her hand on his chest as she stood on tiptoe to gaze into his eyes. This time he couldn’t avoid her blue hypnotic gaze. “They look the same to me.”
Her warm exotic fragrance wrapped around him as seductively and possessively as her arms had earlier. His gaze was drawn to her parted, moist lips. He tightened his hold on his overblown response to her. An urgent need to prove to her that he was different from his brother rolled over him. “Griffin has freckles across his nose. And I have this scar.” He pointed to the bridge of his nose where bride number two had punched him, clipping him with the one-carat diamond Griffin had bought for her with a maxed-out credit card. “See? If you can’t tell us apart, then you obviously don’t know my brother well enough to marry him.”
Her feathery eyebrows slanted down into a frown. She started to touch his scar then their gazes collided. Awareness sparked between them, rekindling the desire deep inside him. She pulled away at the same moment he stepped back. Her eyes widened with dismay. “You kissed me!”
“You kissed me,” he countered.
“Maybe at first, but I thought you were Griff and I distinctly remember—”
“Griffin’s not coming,” he cut her off, not wanting his mistake thrown back into his face. He was well aware of the way he’d kissed her. He could still taste her sweetness on his lips, feel her softness and his hardness.
“What? Why?” As quickly as she’d challenged him about the kiss, her expression switched to horror. “What’s happened? Is he hurt?”
“Not yet.” But when Grant got hold of him…
One of her finely arched eyebrows lifted. “If you’re trying to be funny, Gri…Gr…” She gave a slight shake of her head, making the veil caress her bare shoulders. “Uh…Mr. Stevens, it’s not working.”
“Grant.”
“What?”
“My name. It’s Grant.”
“Where is Griff?”
“I can’t say.” That didn’t sound right so he tried again. “I don’t know.”
Her shoulders relaxed and she reached for him. “I don’t like this practical joke, Griff.”
“I’m Grant.”
She withdrew as if he’d slapped her.
He gestured toward a nearby blue velveteen chair. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
“I don’t believe you…any of this.” She crossed her arms over her middle, pushing her breasts higher, straining the edges of her lacy bra.
He averted his gaze and tried to remain a gentleman when he’d already failed. “Do you have a…a…”
He spotted a robe flung across the back of a suitcase and retrieved it. He held it out for her to take but she simply stared at him, as if she’d lost all sense.
“Griffin has—” He broke off. The stark pain in her vivid blue eyes reached right into his chest and twisted his heart in a cinch knot. Damn his brother. “Ah, hell, he’s backed out of the wedding, Annie. I’m sorry. Sorry he didn’t tell you himself.” Sorry he’s my lousy brother.
He watched her carefully, ready to wrap his arms around her if she needed support and just as ready to duck if she threw something at him. Her silence divided his loyalties like a stock split. He searched for something, anything, to say. How could he help her understand? How could he make it easier? Drawing on what she’d told him earlier, he said, “Griffin decided it was too soon…that…uh, you didn’t know what you were getting into…marrying him.” Yeah, that’s it! “He was trying to protect you.”
Her features contorted and she bent forward.
Damn, she was going to faint. He stepped forward. “Annie?”
Her shoulders started to shake.
Wanting to take away the pain she must be feeling, he reached for her, but the sound of her sobs suddenly became clear. She wasn’t crying or wailing with anger or grief. She was laughing! Doubled over with laughter!
He jerked his hand back. “What the hell?”
She laughed until her face turned red. At least his tux wouldn’t end up damp from a teary bride. Maybe this time he wouldn’t land in the emergency room with a broken nose. Or maybe he should call for reinforcements. Maybe she’d gone off the deep end. Feeling as awkward as Jed Clampett visiting Tiffany’s he let out a confused chuckle, then gave in to relief.
“So you’re not upset?” He sat on the velveteen chair, tension having zapped his strength. “I can’t tell you what a relief—”
She took a deep breath then started to choke. Once she had control of herself, she wasn’t laughing