Her Wildest Wedding Dreams. Celeste Hamilton

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СКАЧАТЬ caught hold of her arm. “What were you and this…” He glared at the dog, who peered up at him through its long hair, some of which was held back by silly, girlish hair bows. Useless creature, Noah thought, before returning to his demand, “What were you and this dog doing in my trailer?”

      The stowaway offered a senseless explanation about mistaking his camper for her own, falling asleep and awakening when the dog started barking.

      “You’ll have to do better than that. What are you up to?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Have you done something to my horse?”

      He set her away from him and stalked around to throw open the doors to the spacious trailer. It made no sense that she could have gotten from the trailer to the camper without his knowledge, but he had to check.

      Royal Pleasure whinnied and danced around a bit, but otherwise seemed just fine. Noah patted her reassuringly, then exited the trailer, eager for the explanation the redhead owed him. To his surprise she was hightailing it through the weeds beside the road, heading for a stand of trees nearby.

      He was tempted to let her go. She had obviously been up to no good, stowing away in his camper like some little thief. She probably was a thief. The possibility made his blood run cold. Right now, she probably had something that belonged to Roger Franklin, a man who had his home barricaded like a castle keep. A man who might assume Noah was the real thief or in cahoots with her.

      “Hey,” Noah shouted as he sprinted after her. “You come back here.”

      She darted a glance over her shoulder but kept moving, her dog barking up a storm in her arms.

      Overtaking her took only a few moments. She was such a little thing, Noah brought her to a halt simply by catching the hem of her T-shirt.

      Brought round to face him, she pleaded, “Please just let me go. I didn’t hurt anything. I just needed a ride.”

      “You needed to sneak off the Franklin ranch.” Noah anchored her in place with a firm grip on her shoulders. “What are you running from?”

      Her brown-eyed gaze wouldn’t quite meet his. “I just had to get out of there.”

      “Why? What’d you steal?”

      “Steal?” she sputtered. “You think I’m a thief?”

      “Why else would you be running away like this?”

      Olivia remained silent, desperately searching for an explanation.

      The man gave her a little shake. “What is it? What are you running from?”

      “My father.” The words burst out of her without preamble or thought.

      Her captor’s blue eyes narrowed. “Your father?”

      “I just can’t stand it any longer. I had to get away from him.”

      The grip on her shoulders loosened somewhat. “Why? What’s the problem with him?”

      “He…just…” Olivia swallowed hard, not certain what to say. She was a terrible liar. The few times she had tried, she had been found out instantly. But somehow she had to convince this man to let her go. She doubted that would happen if he found out she was Roger Franklin’s daughter. And if she had to go back now…

      “What?” the stranger prompted.

      Olivia’s heart knocked hard against her chest as she struggled for words. She had come too far to mess up. Getting out of the house in the early hours of the morning had been a minor miracle. She had escaped through a window she had left open in the library, falling hard on her right arm and almost crushing poor Puddin’. But when no lights came on nor alarms sounded, she realized the security system wasn’t fully engaged, possibly due to the party and the caterers who were still loading equipment and cleaning up near the kitchen entrance.

      Aided by her knowledge of the outside security cameras and the schedule of the guards who patrolled the grounds each night, she had crept behind bushes on the perimeter of the yard and through the deepest of shadows to the stables.

      Even then, she hadn’t a clear plan as to how she would get off the ranch. She was considering saddling a horse and riding out when she had noticed the horse breeder’s trailer. Remembering her father saying Royal Pleasure’s new owner would be leaving first thing in the morning, she had taken what seemed like her best chance and stowed away. She had been hoping to sneak out of the camper when he stopped for gasoline or to exercise Royal Pleasure.

      Bringing Puddin’ had been a risk, and most likely a mistake. Yet leaving her only friend in the world had been impossible. Olivia couldn’t do it. And truly, the dog had been so quiet, so good. Until she simply had to go to the bathroom.

      The horse breeder still regarded her with open hostility. “I don’t believe this nonsense about running from your father.”

      “But it’s true,” Olivia protested, relieved that she didn’t have to lie. “I had to get away from him.”

      “He works for Franklin?”

      “Yes…in…in the stables,” she prevaricated. “As a trainer.”

      “And he hurt you?” An emotion that could have been sympathy flickered across the man’s face.

      “Yes, he hurt me.” At least that much wasn’t a lie, Olivia thought. Her father had hurt her.

      “But why would you have to hide to get away?”

      “My father would never willingly let me go.”

      Looking even more suspicious, one of her captor’s hands slipped from her shoulder down her arm, the arm she had fallen on in her escape. Olivia winced and looked down. For the first time she noticed the purple bruise that started just below the hem of her sleeve.

      The man saw it, too. Gently he pushed the sleeve up. The bruise stretched from near her elbow to her shoulder.

      Muttering a curse, the man dropped her arm and stepped away. “Did your father do this to you?”

      “He…he made me fall,” Olivia said. “He pushed you?”

      She nodded.

      The breeder peered at her again, clearly torn between believing and doubting her story. “How old are you?” he asked at last. “Over eighteen, I imagine.”

      “Yes.”

      “There’s no reason why you couldn’t just have left.”

      “You don’t understand,” she explained, feeling desperate. “My father, he’s…nuts. I was so scared of him, so afraid.”

      “You could have told someone. Told Jake or Mr. Franklin.”

      She forced out a laugh. “You think a rich, important man like that would care about me?”

      “Roger Franklin strikes me as a decent man. He’d care if one of his employees was beating his daughter.”

      “Yeah, he’d fire my father, and I’d get blamed.”

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