Carried Away. Donna Kauffman

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СКАЧАТЬ to maneuver her way out. However, the snug fit of the dress was restricting her movement to the point that getting out without assistance would be mission impossible. He pushed her hands away—twice—and hauled her out.

      “I can manage,” she ground out.

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      She made a face and he found himself stifling a smile. Definitely a handful. Several handfuls, in fact, he thought as he carefully set her on her tottering heels. His actions had caused her dress to roll dangerously high, well past her knees. The cut was so low in the front that she didn’t dare lean down to fix the hem for fear of spilling out of it.

      Glaring at him, she simply motioned him to fix it. For some reason her autocratic, silent demand tweaked at him. “Do you require further assistance, ma’am?”

      “You know damn well I do. It’s all your fault I’m even here, so the least you can do is make this horrid outfit as presentable as possible.”

      Only years of intensive training saved him from laughing out loud. “So you didn’t pick this out yourself?”

      She bared her teeth into what might pass for a smile. On a tiger. “Pull the hem down. Please.” This last was added as if under extreme duress.

      And looking at the way her curves were strapped into way too little fabric, he realized she probably was. “Yes, ma’am.” He knelt in front of her and tried, really tried, not to notice the smooth expanse of leg in front of him, or how it had felt beneath his fingertips.

      She twitched as he gingerly took hold of the thin fabric and tugged. She twitched again and made a strange gargling sound. No way was he lifting his head to check on her, however. “Be still. This thing isn’t giving.”

      She snorted again, then snickered and finally swatted at him to stop. “Stop, stop, you’re killing me here.”

      He did look up then. Big mistake. “Beg—” He had to clear his throat…and his vision of the bounty of cleavage in front of him. “Beg your pardon?”

      “I’m ticklish, okay? And you’re being awfully damn polite for a kidnapper.” He opened his mouth to argue, but she talked over him. “Just leave the dress alone. It’s not like I’m going to have it on for very long.”

      Perfectly happy to follow orders this go around, Trevor stood and eyed her, but thought it best not to respond to that last comment. But, oh, the lucky man who got to peel that dress off of her, he couldn’t help thinking. Providing he could find a way to keep her mouth shut, that is.

      “Well, best to get this over with,” she said, but when she went to take a step, they both realized the dress wasn’t that flexible. Nor were the spiky heels that appeared wedged on her feet.

      Trevor sighed, but time was wasting and Mike was probably getting a bit worried about his best man. He didn’t even want to think what shape Kate was in. So he did what he had to do. He scooped her up in his arms, ignored her squeal of protest—and the way her breasts all but heaved out of the front of the dress—and carried her up the stairs of the church.

      “You are so going to regret this,” she said. “And if I weren’t so busy trying to breathe, I’d probably enjoy it.”

      Trevor tapped the door of the church with his shoe and focused straight ahead. He really must have been overseas too long, because just the sweet pressure of her sequin-clad fanny against the front of his body was enough to make him very glad his dress uniform included a long jacket. He tapped the door with a bit more force.

      Finally it cracked open, revealing a sea of melon sequins, teased hair and flower bouquets. Trevor was tempted to just shove her inside and make a run for it, but Kate emerged through the throng like a white-chiffon swan.

      “Thank goodness! I was worried I’d lost my matron of honor and Mike’s best man!” She sounded giddy bordering on hysterical as the sequin-and-satin sea parted to allow him to enter. Kate’s giddiness dissolved the instant she spied the woman in his arms. “Who is that? Christy?” She raised glassy eyes to Trevor. “What’s going on here?”

      “Christy?” Trevor repeated helplessly.

      The woman in his arms smiled sweetly at him, and bent her fingers in a little wave. “That would be me.”

      “But—Holy—” Trevor bit off the oath, conscious of his surroundings. He was usually able to control his temper; in fact his job demanded he keep his cool under the most trying circumstances. But his special ops training hadn’t prepared him for neurotic brides, AWOL bridesmaids…and sleeping beauties.

      He set his jaw and carefully placed the woman in his arms on her feet. “I went to the address you provided and picked up—”

      “Kidnapped,” Christy corrected.

      “Picked up,” he repeated, “the one and only female resident, whom I naturally presumed to be Vivian, and brought her here as you requested.”

      Kate immediately swung her tear-filled gaze to the woman wobbling next to him. He reached out to help steady her, but was glared into withdrawing his offer of assistance. Fine, he’d just leave them to it, then. Except he couldn’t. He’d brought her here and had refused to listen to any explanations on her part. At the very least he owed it to her to stand by until the situation was resolved.

      “Why didn’t you tell him you weren’t Vivian?” Kate demanded, her bevy of bridesmaids watching the exchange as avidly as fans at a tennis match.

      Christy folded her arms, then thought better of it when her chest came dangerously close to spilling forth. “I tried, believe me.”

      But Kate was losing it completely and didn’t seem to hear. “And why are you wearing Vivian’s dress? I can’t let you go into the chapel dressed like that.”

      Trevor had to bite off the surprising urge to smile when he saw Christy’s hackles all but rise off the back of her neck. Well, this should be good. He was guilty as all hell in this matter, but he’d make his apologies after the firestorm died down. In the meantime, Christy looked fully capable of delivering the speech about what happens when people intrude on other people’s lives. A lesson he needed to learn only once.

      “Oh, I have no intention of going into that chapel. But your hired hound didn’t allow me the luxury of getting dressed before he kidnapped me from my bed. Or Vivian’s bed.” She waved a dismissive hand, making him duck or get smacked. “So I put on the only thing available.”

      “Well, I’m very sorry you were dragged here unnecessarily, but I had no idea you were at Viv’s house. Where is Viv?” she demanded.

      Now Christy’s eyes narrowed. “You must be crazy if you think I’m telling you that. If she wanted to be here and let you manipulate her life after you swore you wouldn’t, she’d be here. Trust me, it cost her plenty to walk away from her obligation to you, but when you went back on your word, I didn’t see any reason for her to keep her word.”

      “You didn’t?” Kate took a step forward, but her dress prevented her from coming any closer. “You told her about Eric? How did you find out?”

      “Eric happened to make the unfortunate assumption that I would back your little scheme and wanted me to help make sure Viv went to the reception. I, on the other hand, totally championed СКАЧАТЬ