His Tomboy Bride. Leanna Wilson

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      Chapter Two

      Fat chance she’d let Nick Latham walk her down the aisle! Tension crackled in the silence following her mother’s request. With an irritated flick of her wrist, Billie flung the veil off her shoulder. Her gaze collided with Nick’s and started a chain reaction along her spine. She had to nip her mother’s idea in the bud before it grew and took root. She couldn’t let Nick give her away. Not in a million years!

      She ignored the pesky, unrealistic notions popping up in her mind. Nick would not whisk her away and keep her for himself. That was ridiculous! He didn’t want her. Not as a woman, anyway. He never had. And never would. She no longer wanted him, either. That had been a crazy childhood fantasy. Like other schoolgirl dreams, it had died.

      Love hurts, she reminded herself. She wouldn‘t—couldn’t—love Nick anymore. It was only seeing him again, his whiskey-colored eyes and easy smile, that had her so...unsettled.

      Tiny pinpricks of awareness made each millimeter of her skin feel vibrant and alive. Her insides burned. Ignoring the hot sensations Nick aroused, she turned away from him and focused on the one person who could stop this insanity.

      “Mother,” Billie said, her voice rising with each pounding beat of her heart, “have you lost your mind?”

      Her mother’s smug smile dimmed. Her eyebrows arched in that familiar you’ve-gone-too-far maternal look. “No, I have not. And I don’t appreciate your insinuation, young lady,” Martha admonished. “I’m being very practical, just like you always are. After all, since your dear father passed away, I’ve spent long nights worrying about things like this. You need someone to escort you down the aisle.”

      “No, I don’t.” Billie planted her hands on her satincovered hips. “I’m more than capable of walking myself down the aisle.”

      Her mother clucked her tongue. “That’s just not done.”

      “Sure it is,” Nick interrupted.

      Martha’s eyebrows slanted downward. Surprised he’d stood up for her, Billie cut her gaze toward him.

      “Women do it all the time,” he continued. “Last week, I attended a wedding in Houston. The bride’s father had...well, not passed away, but he’d abandoned his family years before. The bride walked down the aisle by herself. She looked elegant and mature.”

      For once grateful for his presence, Billie perked up, liking his impressions of a lone bride proving her independence. “See, Mother?”

      “It’s disgraceful.” Martha stated.

      Rolling her eyes, Billie knew her romantic mother would never understand. “Poodle skirt” ideals remained fashionable in Bonnet, Texas. Martha would keel over in a dead faint if she knew Billie was marrying Doug for any reason other than love. If Nick knew, he’d probably jump on her mother’s bandwagon, too. Which confirmed her conviction for keeping tight-lipped about her practical reasons.

      Nick settled his hand on Martha’s shoulder. “Billie should do whatever she chooses. After all, it’s her wedding.”

      His words reassured her. She had made-the right decision. Was Nick finally seeing her as a full-grown woman? The cocky slant of his eyebrow made her wonder. Maybe he was only looking for an excuse to get out of attending the wedding. Somehow that notion gave her an overwhelming sadness.

      “Nick, honey—” Martha clutched at his arm “—I was counting on you to help me talk some sense into my daughter.”

      He patted her hand. His gaze shifted to Billie. His pointed stare put her back on the defensive. “Oh, I’m going to do just that.”

      His words held an ominous ring. What did he mean? Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood firm. She wouldn’t let him derail her or her goal. She had plans for herself. Plans she’d waited a long time to fulfill. If Nick tried to stop her, she’d run right over him. She’d made up her mind. She’d chosen a mate—for better or worse.

      “Why don’t you finish with the dress fitting?” He nodded to Rosa who held her pincushion between her hands like a bouquet of delicate roses. “Billie and I can talk afterward. Privately.”

      His arrogant wink unnerved her. Whatever he had in mind, she’d beat him at his own game. For a moment she felt as if she were ten years old, trying to compete with her older brother and Nick. She’d had to work twice as hard, most of the time she’d relied on brains instead of brawn. This time wouldn’t be any different.

      But to best him, Billie needed to be on her own turf, not fumbling in a froufrou wedding dress in her mother’s dainty parlor. She felt about as feminine as a tractor plowing down summer daisies. Her regular work clothes would give her the surefooted competence she needed.

      With a confident tilt of her head, she said, “Fine, I’ll show you the ranch.”

      If he saw the changes she’d implemented on the Rocking G, then he’d know for certain she could make well-thought-out, intelligent decisions. Maybe he’d be impressed. He’d see she wasn’t a girl under the spell of puppy love. He’d see her as a strong-willed woman who could run a ranch and marry any man she damn well pleased.

      “That’s a good idea,” he said.

      His voice resonated inside her like a gust of warm air. His hot gaze traveled the length of her, tracing every curve from the round of her breast to the indentation of her waist and swell of her hips. Her body tingled with his lingering glance. Far more vulnerable in these layers of lace than she cared to admit, Billie longed for her denim jeans and muddy boots.

      “She’ll probably put you to work.” Martha smiled and turned her attention to the satin trim along the bottom of the veil.

      “I don’t mind hard work.” His rough, work-worn hands emphasized the truth of his statement. He gave Billie a mischievous grin that set her nerves on edge.

      No one had ever looked at her as Nick did now. It unraveled her composure. It made her jittery. But it also gave her a smug confidence she’d never experienced. She’d always known she could ride СКАЧАТЬ