The Best Bride. Susan Mallery

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      He wasn’t as tall as Sam, but he was broader and she liked the way his size made her feel protected. Foolish needs, she thought, knowing that she was on her own. But for these few minutes it was enough to hold and be held, tempt and be tempted.

      He sucked on her lower lip, the delicious sensations forcing all thoughts from her mind. He kissed her harder now, hungrily, the passion building between them. It was all she could do to stay upright and not sag completely against him. Her fingers had trouble holding on to the bouquet of flowers. His scent and warmth filled her body until she wanted him to be a part of her. He seemed to sense her need, moving even closer, tightening his arms around her as if he were as hungry for love as she.

      Love. The word echoed in her brain, the cold reality of its meaning doused her passion and she pulled back. She wasn’t hungry for love. She couldn’t afford to be. Passion, maybe. Sex—well, it had been a while, so probably. But not love. Never love.

      She stared at the open V of his white shirt and watched his chest rise and fall in a rapid cadence that matched her own. Not love. Never love. Love makes you blind. You can’t trust it. Ever. She’d learned that lesson the hard way. She’d loved Sam with all her heart, and he had betrayed everything she’d held sacred and special. There had been a hundred clues, but she’d missed them all.

      Travis was just like Sam. He was a womanizer, a smooth-talking charmer who made a hobby of breaking hearts. So what if he claimed to practice monogamy? That was part of the trappings of his disguise. She knew what he really was.

      She realized they’d been standing there, breathing heavily for several seconds. She half expected him to say something, apologize. But he didn’t.

      The worst part of it was that her body still tingled from the power of their kisses. Her breasts ached, her thighs felt trembly and weak, and her blood hummed with a powerful need that even the most rational of arguments couldn’t quench.

      She swallowed thickly, then forced herself to look up at him. The fire in his eyes burned hotter than she’d ever seen it. His mouth was still damp from her passionate kisses. She wanted to look down but didn’t dare. She couldn’t bear to see the proof of his need. She would think about how he would feel next to her, inside of her. It had been over a year since she’d made love, but some chilling little voice at the back of her head whispered this wasn’t all about simply doing without. It was more about the man in front of her than the need within her body, and that thought scared her to death.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice shaking. “We shouldn’t have done that. It’s better if it doesn’t get out of hand.”

      He smiled then, a slow, lazy, satisfied and very male smile. The skin on the back of her neck tingled and her breasts swelled painfully.

      “What do you mean—‘it’?” he asked.

      “You know. Our relationship.”

      The smile turned into a grin. “I didn’t know we had a relationship.”

      His amusement fueled her temper. “You’re right,” she snapped. “We don’t have a relationship, and I would prefer to keep it that way.” She turned and started to walk away.

      He caught up with her instantly and touched her arm. She wanted to pull back, really she did, but she couldn’t. It felt too good to have him touch her. A bright danger sign flashed before her eyes, but she had a bad feeling it was already too late.

      “Don’t be upset,” he said, his thumb stroking her forearm.

      “I’m not.”

      He arched his eyebrows. Yeah, well she’d never been a very good liar. So what else was new?

      “It was just a kiss, Elizabeth.”

      She pulled free of his hand and continued walking down the hall. When she had turned the corner and was out of sight of the parlor, she raised the bouquet to her face and smelled the sweet flowers. Then she touched her free hand to her still-trembling lips. It had felt like a whole lot more than just a kiss to her.

Chapter Seven

      “And then there was the time the blood bank brought one of those mobile trucks. You know the kind. They stay for a few days and take donations.” Rebecca paused long enough to finish setting the silverware, then looked up and laughed. “He dated both nurses.”

      “You’re kidding?” Elizabeth asked. “Both. So much for monogamy, Travis,” she called, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

      “I was monogamous. The first one didn’t work out, and her friend wanted to comfort me,” he said from his seat on the floor at the edge of the big dining room. It was one of the few rooms he’d actually bothered to furnish. The rosewood table and hutch had once belonged to his mother. She’d left it behind, along with everything else when she’d left him and his brothers. Their father hadn’t wanted the set. Both Jordan and Kyle lived in apartments. Craig had told him to take it because his three boys would destroy the beautiful pieces in a matter of days.

      “Travis, it’s your turn to move,” Mandy said impatiently. “Hurry, ’cuz I’m winning.”

      “I’m hurrying,” he told the little girl. He rolled the dice and counted out the squares with his marker. Mandy crowed when he landed on a chute that carried him almost to the bottom of the board. “Guess you’re going to win, huh?”

      She nodded vigorously, her blond braids bouncing on her shoulders. She grinned. “Mommy, I’m winning. Come see.”

      Elizabeth turned in her chair and looked down at the game. “Very good, sweetie.” She gave him a quick glance. A tiny spot of color stained each cheek, but she didn’t turn away.

      Travis was glad. He’d barely had time to recover from his obvious and somewhat painful reaction to their kiss when Rebecca had arrived for dinner. So far he hadn’t had the chance to make sure Elizabeth was all right. He told himself he hadn’t meant to kiss her, but he knew he was lying. He’d been thinking about it ever since her first night here, when he’d briefly touched her lips with his. He’d wanted to know if the heat between them was real or imagined. The still-burning scars reminded him the heat was plenty real. Their kiss had only made him want more.

      Which was, he acknowledged, an obvious problem. He didn’t want to get involved with Elizabeth for several reasons. Not only was she a guest in his house, but he knew better than to risk it all with someone like her. She was the kind of woman who believed in commitment and forever. He didn’t know how to do that. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t have what other men had to make something special last. Four generations of failed relationships couldn’t be argued with.

      But the kiss had been tempting. He only wished he’d had a chance to ask Elizabeth if everything was okay. But Rebecca and Mandy were in the room. If that wasn’t bad enough, his friend was taking perverse delight in telling Elizabeth a string of stories about his supposed conquests with women.

      “What about that trick roper you dated?” Rebecca asked.

      Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “A trick roper. I don’t think I want to hear about that one.”

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