The McClintock Proposal. Carol EricsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
look at it that way.” She squeezed his hands and tilted her chin to gaze into his eyes. “You’d be saving my life, Rod, and my father’s life. I need to find another studio and start working again. The money’s there to sweeten the pot.”
The pressure of her touch and the way her lips pouted inches from his own scrambled his senses. If he didn’t marry her, how would she get the money? He couldn’t loan it to her. Bobby Jingo would never stop pursuing her, but once she paid him off he’d leave her alone, especially if she were married…to someone else.
People married every day for far less noble causes than saving two lives.
He could keep his marriage a secret.
She’d go her way. He’d go his.
Maybe fate dropped a woman in a wedding dress on the side of the road for a reason.
To hell with everything.
Dipping his head, he took possession of those sweet lips. She dropped his hands, but he hitched an arm around her waist and dragged her closer, their bodies meeting along every line. She squirmed for a few seconds, slumped against him and then shimmied out of his grasp.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“I’m kissing my bride-to-be.”
Rod’s words pierced through the cotton candy that had enveloped her from the moment his lips met hers. How could one kiss on the lips have such a monumental effect on every other part of her body? She felt…ravished. What would the rest of his anatomy do to her?
“Are you getting cold feet already?” His brows formed a V over his nose as his face gathered into a scowl.
“No. I’m thrilled. You’ve made me the happiest woman on earth.” She twirled around the church porch until something sharp poked her heel. “Ow.”
Lunging forward, he caught her in midspin. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
Oh yeah. She’d been right to play on his protective instincts. She hooked her injured foot behind her other ankle. “I think I got a sliver.”
He swept her up in his arms, and then lowered himself onto the top step, sliding her bottom off his thigh so that her legs hung over his lap. “Which foot?”
“This one.” She wiggled her left foot. “It’s my heel.”
He cupped her dirty foot in his hand as if he held a precious work of art. Then he dug into his pocket and withdrew a pocketknife.
She curled her toes. “I don’t think it’s big enough to cut out.”
He snorted and plucked a pair of tweezers from the knife handle. “You are a city girl. Didn’t you ever spend any time on your grandfather’s ranch?”
“Not much. I moved around a lot with my mom.” She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the pain as the tweezers brushed her foot.
Several seconds later, Rod was massaging her foot. Her eyes flew open. “Do you think you’re going to massage it out?”
Pinching the tweezers between his fingers, he held it up. “I already got the sliver out.”
She hadn’t felt a thing. Her husband-to-be had a gentle touch despite his calloused hands. How the hell had she gotten so lucky? Maybe the losing streak she’d been riding these past few years ran out of gas on I-25, along with that motorcycle.
“What’s the plan?” Although she could sit here for the next three hours while Rod rubbed her foot, she had a wedding to attend.
“We get married.”
“Now? It has to be past nine o’clock. We still have to get a marriage license.”
“You almost got married in New Mexico. What do we need to get a license? Do we need a blood test?”
“We just need the license fee and a form of ID. No blood test, no waiting period. But I doubt if little ghost-town Hillsboro has a courthouse to get the license. Not to mention it’s Saturday.”
Rod slid the knife back into his pocket. “We’ll have to wait anyway. You still have your driver’s license?”
“Of course. How irresponsible do you think I am?” She shoved her hand into the fitted bodice of her dress and peeled her license from the side of her breast. “Tadah!”
He laughed. “You have a lot of tricks up your—or rather down your…a lot of tricks.”
Hoisting her legs from his lap, he stood up and extended his hand to her.
She tucked her driver’s license back into her strapless bra and grabbed his hand. “Where are we going?”
“Vegas, baby.”
ROD SLEPT BESIDE HER in the truck, his breathing deep and even. He’d insisted on driving the first leg of their ten-hour trip while she napped in the passenger seat. When she woke up, he was sitting ramrod straight, his eyes glued to the road.
He’d broken their deal. They worked out that he’d drive the first five hours while she slept, and she’d take over the wheel for the second half of the journey. Instead, he’d let her sleep for over six hours. She practically had to wrestle the steering wheel away from him to drive her share.
His chivalry impressed her and made her feel like a gooey marshmallow inside. Nobody had ever looked out for her the way he had this crazy day. His every move, since he first pulled over on the side of I-25, had been to protect her.
Even though she’d used all her wheedling powers, common sense and logic, she still couldn’t believe it when he agreed to her scheme. He’d admitted that he needed cash for his dude ranch, but she knew in her heart he’d based his decision on his desire to keep her safe. No, not desire, need. Something compelled him to perform good deeds.
She glanced at his handsome face, with its square jaw and broad cheekbones, one lock of hair curling over his eye. If he had such a burning passion to help women, why had matrimonial bliss eluded him so far? The man didn’t even snore.
A glow, like a giant spaceship, arose from the desert landscape. She accelerated toward its exuberant embrace. So many people came to Vegas looking for salvation, her father among them; but for her, this neon paradise really did offer deliverance.
Twenty minutes later, she cruised off the highway toward the Vegas strip. She nudged Rod’s shoulder with the heel of her hand. “We’re here.”
“Huh?” His head rolled to the side and he opened one eye.
“We’re in Vegas. Wake up.” Callie held her breath. Did his brief nap awaken him to the lunacy of their plan?
He rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he cranked his head from side to side. “My neck’s stiff.”
No sign of regret yet. “Where to? Did the Marriage License Bureau give you directions when you called earlier?”
“It’s on Clark Avenue.”
Her pent-up breath escaped through her lips, as she sank against the leather seat. No regret at all. “Do you know how to get there?”
“No, but my GPS does.” He reached beneath the passenger seat and pulled out a GPS, a black cord wrapped tightly around it.
“I didn’t know you had one of those.”
“I’ve made the trip to Austin a few times. Didn’t need it for that drive.” He plugged in the GPS and tapped the screen a few times. The monotone voice from the GPS intoned the first direction to Clark Avenue and the building that would seal her fate with this man for at least a few years.
When they walked inside the building, a blast of cold air greeted them, although the early morning temperature outside hadn’t reached scorching levels yet.
They waited in a short line behind two other couples, nobody giving