Runaway Lone Star Bride

It was Hart’s turn to hesitate. “You’re sure you don’t want to go with Gus and make the announcement with him?” he prompted. “If we hurry, we could still catch up.”

Maggie shook her head, abruptly an ice princess through and through. To the point Hart wondered what it would take to break down the impervious shield around her heart and find the real, unguarded woman underneath.

“Gus can handle it,” she claimed with an indignant huff, thrusting out her kissably-soft, pink lower lip.

“True. But should he have to?” Maggie gave him another long, debilitating look that only made him want to kiss her even more.

With effort, Hart ignored the man-woman tension suddenly shimmering between them. Since when had he started thinking about what it would be like to chase some other guy’s runaway bride? But here he was, wondering what it would be like to haul her close enough to feel her soft, sexy body pressed up against his and make that pout of hers disappear...

Maggie appeared to tense. “Look, Hart, I don’t expect you to understand where I’m coming from here...but the fact is, I don’t want to deal with our families when they’re this upset with me.” She folded her arms, gave him another pointed glance. “I’d rather face them after we’ve all had time to cool off—that way there’s less of a chance of anyone saying something they can’t take back.”

That much, Hart did understand.

He had some air-clearing of his own to do with his parents, at evening’s end. Worse, the news he’d come there to tell them would not be received happily. Which meant, like Maggie, he would likely be parting company with his folks tomorrow morning on less than ideal terms.

In the clearing above them, the music stopped abruptly, mid-tune.

Aware that his job—when he was at the ranch, helping out his parents—was to assist in seeing that every celebration held there went as flawlessly as possible, Hart tried to comfort Maggie. “I get wanting to run from unpleasant confrontations.” He took another step closer. “But you’re going to have to face the consequences sometime.” He gave her a chance to ponder that notion. “Sooner rather than later might be easier.” Ignoring his outstretched hand and offer of escort back to the party, Maggie flattened her palm across the center of his chest, and gave him a decisive push back, not stopping until he was well out of the bubble of her personal space.

“And I will offer my heartfelt apologies eventually,” she vowed. “But I am not going to do it until I figure out how I’m going to honor my own obligations and reimburse everyone for their time, trouble and expense.”

Accepting financial responsibility was a good first step to moving on from a pretty big mistake.

The sight of her in full, glorious temper—about to be a single lady again—was even better.

Appearing oblivious to the undeniable desire welling deep within Hart, she lifted a finger. Her gesture drew his attention to the lush fullness of her breasts, pressing against the tight, beaded bodice of her wedding dress.

“Because Gus was correct about one thing. We can’t let our families pay for a wedding that never actually happened. And since I’m the one who called it off at the very last moment, I’m the one who’s got to figure out a way to make things right. Not just for me,” she murmured softly, looking long and deep into Hart’s eyes, “but for everyone.”

Chapter Two (#ulink_1f73855c-1c04-5e52-97b2-d57c1e32b76d)

Two years later...

“The prodigal son of Sanders Mountain is coming home. Today?” Callie Grimes asked.

Maggie settled into her desk chair at the Double Knot ranch house and pressed the phone to her ear. She and her twin sister might live two hundred miles apart, but they were still as close as ever. Whether she needed a sympathetic ear or someone to roll ideas off of, Callie was who she called. And when the widowed Callie needed a shoulder to lean on, Maggie was there for her, too. “That’s what the message on the office voice mail said.”

Just to be sure, she’d played it back several times, listening to the deep, husky timbre of Hart Sanders’s voice while tremors of awareness went up and down her spine.

Deliberately, Maggie pushed away the memory of the last time she and Hart had seen each other. Although that momentous encounter would forever be emblazoned in her mind, she was no longer just considered a runaway bride around here. In fact, she was a valued employee-slash-Jill-of-all-trades who had also managed to work off her portion of the botched wedding. It had been important to her that her parents not be left saddled with that. Almost as important as finding a place where she could heal, away from the inquiring eyes and minds of her family. And the fact that she had helped out Fiona and Frank Sanders, in turn, after Hart had departed for a job in Los Angeles, was of comfort to her, too.

Clueless to Maggie’s musing, Callie continued her inquisition. “And you’re there alone?”

“Temporarily.” She bit her lip. “I mean, I have prospective clients coming in later.” But not until after Hart had indicated he would be arriving.

Callie’s momentary silence indicated she was not fooled. “You’re not going to bare your soul to him again...are you?” her sister persisted above the happy babbling of her one-year-old son, Brian.

Maggie barely stifled a groan. “Callie!”

“The last time you were alone with Hart Sanders was on your wedding day. And you poured your heart out to him then.”

Don’t remind me. I can’t stop thinking about that day as it is. How kind he was. How sexy, how male. How personable, despite all the drama...

Never had she felt such pure animal attraction to another human being.

“I told you that was a mistake.” Maggie pressed a palm to her flushed skin. “I was overwrought.”

Callie laughed. “Don’t you mean turned-on?”

Maggie drew a deep breath. Leave it to her twin to intuit her deepest, darkest fantasies. She massaged the tension from her temples. “I am not having this conversation with you.”

“Mmm-hmm. Methinks my sister doth protest too much.”

“Oh, please,” Maggie huffed. “Stop conjuring up romance for me and go back to your adorable baby boy—”

Maggie heard the back door to the office complex open and shut. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and spoke quietly into the phone. “And here he is.”

“You call me later! I want a full report!”

Her pulse racing, Maggie quickly put the phone down. She sat forward in her chair and went back to tackling yet another prenuptial task for a client. And not a second too soon, either, as firm male footsteps and the sound of something being rolled—maybe a cart?— followed. Seconds later, a familiar face appeared in the portal.

Maggie blinked at the sight of the ruggedly handsome ex-soldier. Although she and Hart had talked—or was it flirted?—from time to time on the phone when he “accidentally” called her extension, she’d never imagined what it might be like for them to actually come face-to-face again.

“Hey.” Ignoring the jolt of excitement coursing through her, Maggie rushed to fill the awkward silence. “What are you doing here?” she asked cheerfully.

Message or not, it wasn’t like Hart to just drop in. Particularly since he and his parents had barely been on speaking terms the last couple of years.

In fact, things had been so tense between Hart and his folks since he had taken a job in Los Angeles that the two times Hart had returned to the ranch, Maggie’d taken advantage of the prior notice and arranged to visit her own family until Hart was gone.

No such luck now, though, Maggie thought, still feeling a little embarrassed to square off with the man who had chased her down on what admittedly had been the worst day of her life. Not that Hart seemed to be thinking about that, Maggie noted cautiously. Or anything else remotely connected to her, thank heaven.

Apparently oblivious to the conflicted feelings welling up within her, Hart faced her across the cluttered surface of her desk. Clad in an expensive olive green button-up, nice-fitting khaki pants and boots, he looked handsome and sexy. His sandy brown hair was still cut short enough to require little in the way of maintenance, although it was more stylish now. The taut, masculine angles of his face had been left unshaven. He also appeared unusually contained and exceptionally tired around the eyes, like he’d been travelling for what seemed forever to get there. Which, given the fact he accompanied his famous boss, Hollywood movie actress Monica Day, wherever her work took her, could certainly be the case.

“I came to see my folks,” he said. Every taut inch of his tall, imposing frame was poised and ready in a way she’d never seen before. “Are they around?”

Maggie studied the sticky-sweet smear of what looked like apple juice on the shoulder of his expensive shirt, and lower still, what looked like ground-in-cracker debris. Maybe it had been a long flight. Maybe he’d sat next to...well, what did it matter.

Aware he was still in need of an answer, she said, “Ah—actually, no. Your mom and dad are on a cruise to New Zealand and Australia.”

Briefly, Hart appeared stunned. “When will they be back?”

Maggie shifted her gaze upward, over the strong suntanned neck, to his intense sable brown eyes. He had the same devastating impact on her that he’d had the first time they’d met. “Ten days.”

His brow furrowed in a way that said he was anything but pleased about that.

Maggie fought back her attraction and pushed on, “I gather you’ve got some time off, too?”

“A little over two weeks, yeah.” He shrugged his broad shoulders restively. “I had something important—” He sighed. “I wanted to surprise them.”