Country Bride: Country Bride / Woodrose Mountain. RaeAnne Thayne

were flashing with humor.

      “Stick by your man, honey,” she advised. “That city slicker can’t hold a candle to Luke Rivers.”

      “Luke’s the man for you,” someone else shouted.

      “When you gonna tie the knot?”

      Two men were holding open the lounge door for them. The last thing Kate heard as Luke carried her into the cold night air was a robust round of applause from inside the lounge.

Five

      “I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” Kate stormed as Luke parked his pickup outside the house. “How could you do that to me? How could you?”

      During the entire ride home, Luke hadn’t spoken a word, nor had he even glanced at her. He’d held himself stiff, staring straight ahead. For all his concern about her riding with Eric, he drove as if the very devil were on their tail. Only when they entered the long, winding drive that led to the house had he reduced his speed.

      “I’ll never forgive you for this,” she told him, grabbing the door handle and vaulting out of the truck. She couldn’t get away from him fast enough. By morning every tongue in Nightingale would be wagging, telling how Luke Rivers had hauled Kate Logan out of the Red Bull.

      To her dismay Luke followed her into the house.

      “I couldn’t care less if you forgive me or not,” he said darkly.

      “The women were laughing and the men snickering.... I won’t be able to show my face in this town again.”

      “As far as I’m concerned, the problem is one of your own making.”

      “That’s not true!” She’d had no way of knowing that Eric was going to start downing wine like soda pop. And she did not need a lecture from Luke Rivers. All she wanted him to do was leave, so she could lick her wounds in private and figure out how long it would be before she dared go out in public again.

      Luke started pacing the kitchen floor. Each step was measured and precise. Clipped, like his voice.

      “Please go,” she beseeched wearily.

      “I’m not leaving until I get some answers from you.”

      Gathering what remained of her dignity, which at this point wasn’t much, Kate sank onto a chair. She wouldn’t argue with Luke. Every time she tried, she came out the loser. Better to get this over with now rather than wait for morning. She sighed deeply.

      “Who the hell is Eric Wilson and why were you having dinner with him?” Luke’s heavy boots clicked against the kitchen floor as he paced.

      Instead of answering, Kate asked, “What’s happened to us?” She gazed sorrowfully up at Luke. “Do you remember how much fun we used to have together? Tonight wasn’t fun, Luke. Just a few weeks ago I could laugh with you and cry with you. You were my friend and I was yours. Suddenly nothing’s the same, and I don’t understand why.” Her voice quavered slightly. She fought an overwhelming desire to hide her face in her hands and weep.

      She didn’t win. Tears of pride and anguish spilled on to her cheeks. She brought her hands up, trying to hide her distress.

      Luke knelt in front of her and pried her hands away. His fingers tenderly caressed her face. “Everything has changed, hasn’t it, Princess?”

      She sucked in a shaky breath and nodded.

      “You’re confused, aren’t you?” His hands cradled her face and he eased forward to press his warm mouth over hers. Even as she kissed him back, her confusion grew. He’d been so angry with her, more furious than she’d ever seen him. Yet, when he kissed her, he was achingly gentle.

      Luke seemed to believe that her ready response to his kiss would answer the questions that haunted her. Instead it raised more questions, more qualms.

      “Do you understand now?” he asked, his voice a husky murmur, his eyes closed.

      How Kate wished she did. She shook her head, bewildered and still uncertain.

      Luke stroked her lips with his index finger. His most innocent touches brought her nerves to life with a prickling, wary excitement. Refusing to think about her own impulse, she held his hand to her mouth and brushed her lips across his callused fingertips.

      “Oh, love,” he moaned, and bent forward, caressing her mouth with his once more. “We’ve got to put an end to this madness before I go insane.”

      “How?” she gasped, as she braced her hands against his broad chest. He felt so good, hard muscle and warm flesh, and so strong, as if nothing could stand in his way once he determined a course. Not heaven. Not hell. And not anything in between.

      “How?” He repeated her question, then chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep within his chest. “We’ll have to do what you suggested.”

      “What I suggested?”

      His mouth continued to tease hers with a series of small, nibbling kisses that seemed to pluck at her soul. “There’s only one way to cure what’s between us, Kate.”

      “One way,” she echoed weakly.

      “You’ll have to marry me. There’s no help for it and, considering how I feel right now, the sooner the better.”

      Kate felt as if he’d dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. “Marry you,” she shrieked, pushing him away so quickly that he nearly toppled backward. “Your answer to all this confusion is for us to get married?”

      “Kate, don’t be unreasonable. We’re perfect for each other. You need me now more than at any time in your life and I’m here for you.”

      “Luke, please—”

      “No.” He stopped her with a look. “You’re about to lose everything in life that you thought was secure—your father and your home. I don’t have any intention of taking over Devin’s role, but the way I figure it, I’d make you a decent husband.”

      “What about love?” Kate cried.

      Luke sighed in frustration. “We’ve gone over that ten times. You already love me—”

      “Like a brother.”

      “Princess, sisters don’t kiss their brothers the way you just kissed me.”

      He apparently believed that was argument enough. Not knowing how else to respond, she shook her head. “I love Clay! You keep ignoring that or insisting I don’t—but I do. I have for as long as I can remember. I can’t marry you. I won’t!”

      “For heaven’s sake, forget Clay.”

      “It’s not so easy!” she shouted.

      “It would be if you’d try a little harder,” Luke muttered, obviously losing patience. “I’m asking you to marry me, Kate Logan, and a smart woman like you should know a good offer when she hears one.”

      So much for love. So much for romance. Luke wasn’t even listening to her, and Kate doubted he’d understood a single thing she’d said. “This conversation isn’t getting us anywhere.”

      “Kate—”

      “I think you should leave.”

      “Kate,” he said, firmly gripping her shoulders, “how long is it going to take you to realize that I love you and you love me?”

      “Love you? How can you say that? Until a few weeks ago I was engaged to marry Clay Franklin!” Angrily she pushed away his hands and sprang to her feet.

      “Yes. And all that time you were going to marry the wrong man.”

      Luke didn’t seem to find that statement the least bit odd, as if women regularly chose to marry one man when they were really in love