Beg To Die. BEVERLY BARTON

      “Well, well, well. Look what the pussycat’s dragged in,” Sheridan said, a mischievous twinkle in her big brown eyes as she paused directly in front of Jamie and gave him a come-hither smile.

      “Good morning to you, too, sister-in-law.” Jamie leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

      Sheridan reached up and curled her hand around his neck, then stood on tiptoe and brought her mouth in alignment with his. She whispered against his lips, “You can do better than that, can’t you?”

      He removed her hand from his neck, swatted her behind, and chuckled. “Behave yourself, child. I’ve got enough trouble on my hands this morning without being caught with my tongue down your throat.”

      Sheridan offered him a seductive pout. “Mother and Daddy are very upset with you. And poor Laura cried her eyes out all night. I’m afraid she may call off the wedding.”

      “Not on your life. Your sister is going to become Mrs. James Upton III in three weeks. Big Mama has decreed it to be so, and what Reba Upton wants, she gets.”

      “Then you’d better start making lovey-dovey noises to Laura. And don’t bother lying to her about where you were. She knows you went straight to Jasmine Talbot.”

      “I have no intention of denying where I went,” Jamie said. “Once I explain to Laura why I was with Jazzy, she’ll understand.”

      Sheridan’s eyes widened in astonishment. “This I have to hear.”

      “Later,” Jamie told her. “Meet me at the stables in an hour.” He winked at her, then walked past her and knocked on Laura’s bedroom door.

      “Who is it?” Laura asked.

      Jamie glanced over his shoulder and gave Sheridan another quick wink, then blew her a kiss. She smiled triumphantly before rushing off down the hall.

      “Laura, darling, it’s Jamie.”

      “Go away! I never want to see you again.”

      “Now, pet, don’t be that way. I have to talk to you. I have to make you understand why I did what I did last night.”

      “I don’t want to hear your explanations. I’ve forgiven you too many times already. If you want Jazzy Talbot, then you can have her. I’m calling off the wedding and—”

      “You can’t do that.” Jamie turned the doorknob and flung open the door. Still wearing her nightgown, Laura sat on the edge of her bed. “You don’t want to break my heart, do you?”

      “Don’t you dare come in here.” Laura jumped up off the bed and pointed to the door. “Get out right this minute.”

      Jamie slammed the door shut, then locked it. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you let me explain. Not until you forgive me for being a stupid jackass.”

      Laura lifted her pretty little head and hazarded a glance in his direction, but looked away quickly. That one swift glance told him that he had said just the right thing, given her just enough hope to make her listen to him. He would lie to her, tell her what she most wanted to hear. That was always the best policy with women. Tell a woman the truth and you’re doomed. Lie to her, flatter her, tell her whatever her heart desires, and you’ll have her eating out of your hand.

      He took several tentative steps in her direction, then paused as if uncertain he had a right to approach her. Act humble, he told himself. Pretend to be torn apart inside with the fear you might lose her.

      “Laura, I made a mistake in leaving our engagement party before it ended. I didn’t realize at the time how it would look to you, your parents, and our guests.” Jamie took another couple of steps toward her. “Chalk it up to my eagerness to do something I should have done a long time ago.”

      She looked at him again, this time for several seconds, before glancing down at the floor. “What—what are you talking about? What should you have done a long time ago?”

      “Ended things with Jazzy.”

      Laura’s head snapped up, her gaze focused directly on his face. He’d known that statement about Jazzy would gain him her full attention.

      “I don’t understand,” Laura said.

      He moved closer, bringing himself within touching distance of his eager-to-believe-him fiancée. “Last night at our engagement party, with our family and friends here to celebrate with us, I realized just how important this marriage is to me…how important you are to me. I want our marriage to work. I—I love you, Laura.”

      Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at him, disbelief battling with hope in her expression. “You went to Jazzy and you spent the night with her.”

      “Yes, I went to Jazzy.” He reached out for Laura. She pulled back, retreating from his touch. “I went to her to tell her that it’s over between us. Now and forever. I told her that I love you. She understood. We talked for a couple of hours—just talked—then I left.”

      “If that’s true, then where were you all night?”

      “I drove around for a while, thinking, pondering my many mistakes, making plans for my—our future. Before I knew it, I found myself over in Knox County, nearly in downtown Knoxville. I thought about calling you, but hell, sugar, it was the wee hours of the morning. So I pulled off at a rest stop and got a few hours sleep before I headed back home.”

      “I want to believe you.”

      Jamie zeroed in on her, leaving her no room for escape. Knowing she wouldn’t put up much of a fight, he pulled her into his arms and said, “Believe this, Laura. I love you. Only you.” When he lowered his head to kiss her, she turned away from him. He grasped her chin and maneuvered her face around so that he could take her lips. Once he kissed her, she succumbed without even so much as a whimper. God, she was so easy. Dumb little cunt.

      When he finally ended the kiss, she looked up at him with love and trust in her eyes. “Oh, Jamie, I love you so much.”

      “I know you do. And I love you even more. We’re going to be the happiest young couple in the state of Tennessee come three weeks from Saturday.” He lifted her into his arms and swung her around the room. “Hell, make that the happiest couple in the whole United States of America.”

      Reve wanted nothing more than to escape Cherokee Pointe as fast as she could. She’d been a fool for coming here, for seeking out Jasmine Talbot in the hopes the woman might prove to be her biological sister. Even though she didn’t quite believe Sally Talbot’s staunch denial that Sally’s younger sister had given birth to more than one child, Reve couldn’t accept the fact that she and a woman such as Jazzy Talbot might be blood related. The woman was trash. And from what she’d gathered on very brief acquaintance, Jazzy was a whore. Even if by some weird trick of fate she and Jazzy were related, Reve didn’t want to pursue the truth. She didn’t want to be the woman’s sister. Hell, she didn’t want them even to be cousins. And she certainly didn’t want the likes of Sally Talbot to be her aunt!

      As she zoomed her Jag along the highway leading out of town, she considered the can of worms she might have opened with her visit. Why had she told them her name? If any of them wanted to find her, it would be very easy. Everyone who was anyone in Chattanooga, in all of Hamilton County, knew who Reve Sorrell was. She was the heir to Sorrell fortune! People like Jazzy Talbot and her aunt Sally were the type to want money from a long-lost relative.

      And what about Caleb McCord? She’d taken an instant liking to him, but she didn’t kid herself about what sort of man he was. From the looks of him, he was a diamond in the rough, a poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks. A woman like Jazzy would know how to handle that kind of man, but Reve figured she would be out of her depth. She liked her gentlemen friends to be her social, intellectual, and financial equal. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Caleb McCord didn’t fit that bill, at least on two counts.

      Would Caleb’s curiosity about why Reve Sorrell and Jazzy