Blue Moon Bride. Renee Roszel

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      His reaction, at first, was no reaction at all. After a second when he blinked and squinted at her, she knew he knew. “The arm…?” He paused for a heartbeat, then added, “Oh.”

      That quietly spoken “oh” had the impact of a ton of bricks falling on her. She felt sick, especially now that she sensed he hadn’t recognized her. She didn’t look much like she had the last time he saw her. Her severe platinum hairstyle was gone, transformed to its original dark blond, curly, shoulder-length style. Plus she wore jeans and an oversize T-shirt rather than the body-hugging, sexy-sophisticated attire of Milo’s choosing.

      Darn her impulsive nature. She could have made it through this detestable encounter without him recalling her, if she’d only engaged her brain before her mouth.

      Sadly the damage was done, so she might as well salvage what she could of her pride. Straightening her shoulders, she clasped her hands before her, working to appear strong and as little like arm candy as possible. “My name is Hannah Hudson, until recently your finance department manager. I resigned at the end of May.”

      He inclined his head slightly, appearing to absorb that as he scanned her face again. “Of course. Miss Hudson.” He said her name without a hint of a snicker or sneer. “I remember you now. Since your promotion we’ve been in several meetings together.”

      “Once or twice,” she corrected. “Usually your VP of finance presided.”

      “You look different,” he said.

      “Yeah, well, I’ve joined the ACA.” His puzzled expression didn’t surprise her.

      “The what?” he asked.

      “It’s ‘Arm Candy Anonymous.’”

      He smiled as though finding her sarcasm clever, “Forgive me for not recognizing you.” He held out a hand, long-fingered and steady. She experienced a tremor of hesitation. Did he expect her to take it? Besides having a reputation for enjoying plenty of arm candy himself, and for being married to his work, he was known for his diplomacy. “To be fair, I was at a disadvantage. Your face is in shadow.”

      He had a point—about her face being in shadow—but she ignored it, just as she ignored his outstretched hand. “You’re not staying here, are you?” She prayed for his response to be no. When she won her free two-week stay at the quaint inn on Grand Lake in Northeastern Oklahoma, she’d been euphoric. She needed distance from Jerric Oil and Oklahoma City, not to mention precious time to heal, to recover her self-confidence. She planned to use this trip to reevaluate where she was going and what she wanted to do with her future. Having anybody at the inn aware of her poisoned reputation at Jerric Oil would put a huge damper on her recovery—most particularly if that somebody’s name was Jerric.

      “I’m a guest here.” His grin grew crooked and wry. “You know, Miss Hudson,” he went on, “questions like that can be hard on a man’s ego.”

      “For how long?”

      “How long will my ego suffer?”

      Was he trying to make her crazy? “No! What is it with you and egos?” She licked her lips, nervous. “I’m asking how long you’ll be here?”

      “A couple of weeks.”

      Horrible news. The worst possible news. Not that she was hard on his ego. It could use some filing down. The horrible news was that he would be a guest at the inn as long as she. “Oh, no. That’s how long I’ll be here.”

      “Ouch,” he said with a exaggerated cringe.

      “Sucks, doesn’t it,” she grumbled, “discovering somebody doesn’t find you all that terrific.” She experienced a rush of vindication. “Try seeing it from my perspective,” she said. “I’m sure you can understand why I might be upset that you’re here.”

      “Not really.” His response held a note of impatience, as though her continued digs were taking a toll on his ability to remain diplomatic.

      That was too bad. “I’m here to get away from—from everything that reminds me of—of…” She shrugged, arms outstretched. “You know.”

      “Not really,” he repeated.

      “Oh, please.” She spun away. “You know why I had to leave Jerric Oil.”

      “I assume you got a better offer.”

      “That’s what you assume?” she asked, sarcasm edging her tone. “Well, you assume wrong.”

      He said nothing for a moment. The warm, June breeze ruffled the flowers. They rustled in the darkness, seeming to gossip in whispers. “Then why—”

      “Don’t you dare ask me why I left!” she cut in. Talk about nerve! She plunked down on the stone bench, grimacing at the pain in her backside.

      “But you seem upset, and I—”

      “You think?” she demanded. “If you don’t mind, I’m not in the mood to chat.”

      The night breeze rustled the flowers again. They bobbed and nodded, giving rise to more stage whispers. After a stressful few seconds, Roth Jerric cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me then?”

      She clamped her fingers over the edge of the bench and stared straight ahead, looking at nothing. If she didn’t respond, he’d get the idea, even if he was as dense as the granite she sat on.

      “It was fascinating visiting with you, Miss Hudson,” he said, his remark clearly cynical. She wanted to smart-off but managed to keep her mouth shut. It didn’t give her any satisfaction, but she wanted him to leave, and that wouldn’t happen if she kept their exchange going.

      She began a calming count to ten. One…two…three…“Okay!” She spun around. “Just so you get it, I am no man’s arm candy, and hearing Milo smirking around the office, objectifying me that way, and knowing—others— agreed…” She wanted to say, You for instance. So unstrung with doubt about her ability, she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge the rest. She went on with what she could admit. “Naturally I couldn’t stay at Jerric Oil after that.” Too late, she wished she hadn’t revealed that much. She bit her tongue for its betrayal.

      Roth had begun to move toward the inn, but stopped with her outburst. For an instant he appeared startled, then he chuckled deep in his throat.

      Laughing?

      At her!

      Again!

      Okay, if he wanted war, he could have war. “You have a warped sense of humor, Mr. Jerric!”

      He shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

      Had she heard him right? “Kidding?”

      “Yes, kidding.” He looked dubious, and vaguely amused.

      Amused! She burned with resentment. “Not at all!” She knew her cheeks blazed bright red and was grateful for the darkness. Feeling feisty, she shot to her feet. “Obviously you find my humiliation a total hoot.”

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