Karen Templeton – Falling For The Rebound Bride (страница 2)

Colin shut his eyes, as if that’d stop her words’ pummeling. True, he was exhausted and starving and not at all in the mood for conversation, especially with some classy, chatty chick he barely remembered. A chatty chick who clearly didn’t know from awkward. Or didn’t care. But she was right, he was being an ass. For no other reason than he could. Cripes, his father would knock him clear into next week for that. Not to mention his mother.

“No. I am,” he said, daring to meet her gaze. And the you’ve-gone-too-far-buster set to her mouth under it. A mouth that under other circumstances—although what those might be, God alone knew—might have even provoked a glimmer of sexual interest. Okay, more than a glimmer. But those days were long gone, stuffed in some bottom drawer of his brain where they couldn’t get him in trouble anymore. “And I apologize. It was a rough flight. Part of it, anyway.”

Although not nearly as rough as the weeks, months, preceding it.

Emily’s gaze softened. Along with that damn mouth. Yeah, sympathy was the last thing he needed right now.

“From?”

Since his name was plastered all over the magazine spread along with the photos, it wasn’t exactly a secret. “Serbia.”

A moment of silence preceded, “And why do I get the feeling I should leave it there?”

His mouth tugged up on one side. “Because you’re good at reading minds?”

She almost snorted, even as something like pain flashed across her features. “As if. Then again...” Her gaze slid to his, so impossible to read he wondered if he’d imagined the pain in it. “Perhaps some minds are easier to read than others?”

Nope, not taking the bait. Even if he’d had a clue what the bait was. His arms folded across a layer of denim more disreputable than his yet-to-appear duffel, he said, “You get on in DC? Or Dallas?”

“DC.”

“And nobody’s picking you up?”

Her mouth twisted. “It was kind of last-minute. So I told Dee I’d rent a car, save her or Josh the five-hour round trip. They’ve got their hands full enough with the kids and the ranch stuff this time of year, and I can find my own way.” Her eyes swung to his again. “What about you?”

“They don’t know I’m here.”

That got a speculative look before she snapped to attention like a bird dog. “Oh, there’s one of my bags—”

“Which one?”

“The charcoal metallic with the rose trim. And there’s the two others. But you don’t have to—”

“No problem,” Colin said, lugging the three hard-sided bags off the belt. Gray with pink stripes. Fancy. And no doubt expensive. His gaze once more flicked over her outfit, her hair and nails, even as his nostrils flared at her light, floral perfume.

Rich girl whispered through his brain, as another memory or two shuffled along for the ride, that his new sister-in-law’s mother had hailed from a socially prominent East Coast family, that there’d been murmurings about how Deanna’s aunt hadn’t been exactly thrilled when her only sister took up with a cowboy and moved to the New Mexico hinterlands. Something about her throwing her life away. A life that had ended far too soon, when Deanna had only been a teenager.

Not that any of this had anything to do with him. Didn’t then, sure as hell didn’t now. Never mind the knee-to-the-groin reaction to the charmed life this young woman had undoubtedly led. The sort of life that tended to leave its participants with high expectations and not a whole lot of understanding for those whose lives weren’t nearly so privileged—

“Hey. You okay?”

Colin gave his head a sharp shake, refusing to believe he saw genuine concern in those blue eyes. Apparently the long trip had chewed up more than a few brain cells.

“I’m fine. Or will be,” he said as he grabbed his bag off the belt, dumping its sorry, chewed-up self on the airport’s floor beside the shiny trio. “Nothing a shower, some food and a real bed won’t fix.” Not to mention some sorely needed alone time. “And the sooner we get—” home, he’d started to say, startling himself “—back to the Vista, the sooner I can make that happen.” Slinging the duffel over his shoulder with the camera bag and commandeering the smaller two of Emily’s bags, he nodded toward the rental car desk across the floor. “So let’s go get our cars and get out of here.”

Jerking up the handle of the larger bag, Emily frowned. “Um...why rent two cars? Wouldn’t it make more sense to share one? Besides, don’t take this the wrong way, but you do not look like someone up for driving through a couple hundred miles of nothing. In the dark, especially. So I’ll drive, how’s that?”

That got a momentary sneer from the old male ego—because Old Skool Dude here, the man was supposed to drive—until weariness slammed into him like a twenty-foot tidal wave. And along with it logic, because the woman had a point. Didn’t make a whole lot of sense to rent two separate vehicles when they were going to the same place.

Not to mention the fact that passing out and careening into a ravine somewhere wasn’t high on his to-do list. However...

“You might not want to be confined with me in a closed space for two-and-a-half hours.” Her brows lifted. “I think I smell.”

She laughed. “Not that I’ve noticed. But it’s warm enough we can leave the windows open.”

“Once we get up past Santa Fe? Doubtful. Spring doesn’t really get going good until May, at least.”

A shrug preceded, “So I’ll put on another layer—”

“But what’ll you do for a car once you’re there?”

“Dee said there’s a truck I can use, if I want. So I was gonna turn in the rental tomorrow in Taos, anyway...”

First off, that shrug? Made her hair shimmer around her shoulders, begging to be touched. So wrong. Second, the image of Emily’s perfectly polished person collided in Colin’s worn-to-nubs brain with whatever undoubtedly mud-caked 4x4 her cousin was referring to. The ranch vehicles weren’t known for being pretty.

Unlike the woman with the shimmery hair who’d be driving one of them.

So wrong.

Then he dragged his head out of his butt long enough to catch the amused smile playing around her mouth. “You really have a problem sharing a ride with me?”

Colin’s cheeks heated. “It’s not you.”

“Actually, I got that. No, really. But I’m beginning to understand what Josh said about you being a loner—”

“I’m not—”

“Even I know you haven’t been home in years,” she said gently. “That you’ve barely been in touch with anyone since you left. And then you don’t even tell your family you’re coming back? Dude. However,” she said, heading toward the rental desk, her hair swishing against her back. Glimmering. Taunting. “My only goal right now is to get to the ranch.” She glanced back over her shoulder at him, and once again he saw a flicker of something decidedly sharp edged. “Expediency, you know? Your issues are none of my business. Nor are mine yours. In fact, we don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to. I won’t be offended, I promise. So. Deal?”

With the devil, apparently.

“Deal,” Colin grumbled, hauling the rest of the bags to the desk, wondering why her reasonableness was pissing him the hell off.

* * *

An hour later, Emily had to admit Colin had been right about two things: the farther north they went, the colder it got; and he was definitely a little on the gamey side. Meaning she’d had no choice but to keep the windows at least partly down, or risk suffocation.

Also, it was dark. As in, the headlight beams piercing the pitch blackness were creepy as all get-out. To her, night meant when the street lamps came on, not that moment when the sun dived behind the horizon and yanked every last vestige of daylight with it. Her heart punched against her ribs—so much for her oh-I’ll-drive bravado back there in the airport, when for whatever reason it hadn’t occurred to her she’d never actually driven the route before. Somebody had always ferried her to and from Albuquerque. Sure, she would’ve made the trek herself in any case, but being responsible for another human being in the car with her...

“Jeez, get a grip,” she muttered, turning up the Sirius radio in the SUV, hoping the pulsing beat would pound her wayward thoughts into oblivion. Not to mention her regrets, crammed inside her head like the jumbled mess of old sweaters and jeans and tops she’d stuffed willy-nilly inside her pretty new luggage. Clothes that predated Michael, that she’d rarely worn around him because he’d said they made her look dumpy.

Emily’s nostrils flared as her fingers tightened around the leather-padded wheel. Someday, she might even cry.

Someday. When she was over the hurling and cursing stage.

Beside her, a six-feet-and-change Colin snorted and shifted, his arms folded over his chest as he slept. They’d barely made it out of Albuquerque before he’d crashed, his obvious exhaustion rolling off him in waves even more than the funk. If it hadn’t been for that picture Dee had shown Emily—a very serious publicity shot of Colin the photojournalist—she would’ve never recognized him. As it was, between the five days’ beard growth and shaggy hair, the rumpled clothes and saddlebags under his eyes, she still wasn’t sure how she had. It must’ve been the eyes, a weird pale green against his sun-weathered face—