The Wrangler's Bride. Justine Davis

right.” Mercy smiled, then sighed. “I always wanted to be like her.”

      Grant’s brows furrowed. “What?”

      “You know, glamorous, charming, bubbly. All the things I’m not.”

      “You’ll do just fine as you are,” he said gruffly. “The last thing the world needs is another pampered charmer like Kristina. You’re solid, steady, and not a bit spoiled.”

      “Oh, thank you,” Mercy said, her mouth twisting wryly. “Just what a girl wants to hear.”

      She left him standing there gaping after her as she turned and trotted up the stairs.

      Women, Grant thought, wondering what the hell he’d said wrong now.

      He should, he mused rather sourly, leave the females to Joker.