by Mollie Molay
Arden was tempted. The man appeared to be everything she’d dreamed about when she’d become old enough to dream: ruggedly handsome, confident and with an air of mystery about him; the exact opposite of everything she’d been taught to want by her father. In her present mood that was enough to cause her to consider going into his arms.
“How come you’re dressed for the storm?” she asked as she fought temptation. “Most everyone else is wearing wedding attire or resort things under their raincoats.”
“Simple,” he answered blandly. “I don’t plan on remaining in Cancún. I intend to take the next flight back to New York.”
Arden glanced at the honeymoon couple seated alongside him. The bride was fast asleep in her husband’s arms and looked a lot warmer than Arden did.
She still hesitated. Her circumspect upbringing and her job as a church secretary seemed light-years away from the position she found herself in now. Cuddling with a strange man wasn’t something she’d ever considered. Until now.
She hadn’t been raised as a minister’s daughter for nothing, Arden reflected as she considered his offer. She might be a late-blooming rebel, but her strict upbringing had left its mark.
Who was this man? What was he up to? And what guarantee did she have that he’d keep his promise not to try to take advantage of the situation?
Arden could still hear her minister father’s voice thundering in her ears as she fled the church, warning her of dire consequences for her behavior. For a fleeting moment she wondered what he would say if he knew what she was contemplating doing now.
After a moment of shivering reflection, Arden decided that since her father wasn’t here to pass judgment on her decision, she’d take this man up on his offer. She might feel guilty over the mess she’d made of her wedding day, but not enough to punish herself by sitting on a cold, hard, stone bench all night. Besides, what her father didn’t know couldn’t bother him.
She wondered what it would be like to spend a few hours in this man’s arms. The dangerous edge to him she sensed when she’d first gazed at him continued to attract her in a way John’s appearance had never done.
Maybe it had been her fault. Margo had kept telling her to loosen up and smell the roses, but she’d been conditioned too well by her Victorian father. Poor John. Maybe she hadn’t given him any encouragement to be anything other than a proper suitor.
It looked as if things were going to change.
This afternoon she’d run for her life from her own wedding. Now she was contemplating doing something completely out of character.
Was this man part of the independence, the adventure, the excitement she’d set her heart on finding? Was it wise, or even safe, to accept his invitation? His sure, steady gaze seemed to dare her to take a chance.
It was that dare that made her consider his offer.
She tried to resist temptation and failed miserably. With a mental admonition to be on her guard, she decided to take him up on his offer.
She resolutely tossed what was left of her bridal bouquet into the trash container beside her. And with it she threw away the last reminder of her guilt. After twenty-two years of listening to her father’s advice, it was time to think for herself.
If she was on the road to hell, as her father had predicted, she intended to enjoy the ride.
Chapter Two
“I’d like to know your name.”
“McCauley,” he answered, after a moment of hesitation.
“That’s all?” At least she should know the first name of the man whose arms would be around her, Arden thought.
“Luke,” he added reluctantly, “and that’s all you need to know about me right now,” he answered. “By the way, what’s yours?”
“Arden Crandall,” she answered.
“Miss?”
“Of course not!” she replied. She shot him a defiant look that defied him to doubt her. He smiled a wicked smile that sent another unexpected shiver through her. But she knew she was going to take him up on his offer. There was that glint in his challenging eyes that drew her.
A dare was a dare.
“Thank you, I will take you up on your offer,” Arden answered. She glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to them or looked as if they cared. Thankfully, the unaccustomed accommodations had taken its toll. She was surrounded by couples settling down to make the best of a bad situation. A few die-hards were still awake and exchanging hugs and kisses. She hurriedly closed the distance between herself and her rescuer. Once beside him, she nestled into his warmth.
The coat he pulled over her smelled of rain and fresh snow. The tanned cheek resting against her hair smelled faintly of seductive shaving lotion. The arms that held her were strong and sure. And, to her secret satisfaction, that air of danger that fascinated her still clung to him.
This man was nothing like her fiancé. John, who at thirty-eight was sixteen years older than she, had kissed her as if he were afraid she would break. She’d felt a vague dissatisfaction with his embraces, but hadn’t known why. Until now.
She tried to relax. In this man’s arms, her thoughts turned to Cancún, to the Majestic Resort at the tip of the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico where she was headed. She pictured bronze, muscular Indian males and exotic maidens with flowing, black tresses. Of warm, tropical breezes and sandy beaches. The mental images made her feel strangely happy and contented.
Come to think of it, she thought with a smile, the man who held her in his strong arms made her feel pretty good, too.
In a wild burst of imagination, she pictured him beside her on a chalk white beach wearing a brief bikini. The sun would shoot glints of gold into his sable hair. His dark eyes would be warm and soft as he turned his inviting gaze on her and opened his arms. She envisioned herself going eagerly into his embrace, her flesh burning under his hands.
Arden stifled a giggle. She had to stop this before her imagination carried her into dangerous waters. She didn’t know anything about the man who held her, and yet she was picturing honeymooning with him. She sighed wistfully as she snuggled closer to his muscular chest. Dreams were okay when there was nothing else to look forward to, but the real thing felt definitely better.
“Here, why don’t you take off your wet raincoat and try to relax?” Luke asked, as he became aware of the cold sweeping through him.
She shook her head.
“Why not? I would think you’d be a lot more comfortable without it.”
“I’m afraid it might turn up missing,” she explained. “It’s the only thing I have left besides this dress.”
“Is that the only reason? Or don’t you want me to see what the rest of you looks like?” he teased. He figured he might as well make a joke of it. It was obviously going to be the only way a skittish Arden Crandall was going to remain within a foot of him without that damn raincoat that was sending chills through him. And even that distance might be too far away, now that he was surprised to discover how much he enjoyed having her in his arms.
The awareness of how much he actually enjoyed having her beside him began to trouble him, but not enough to call her off. There was time enough for that later.
“Not at all,” she replied. “I’m just an ordinary woman. I’m certain you’ve seen a woman in a bridal outfit before.”
“True,” he answered. But she wasn’t an ordinary bride, not without a bridegroom. “But from what I can tell, your raincoat isn’t doing you any good and it’s making me cold.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking.” She reached for her belt buckle, then hesitated. The searching look she was giving him was enough to make a hardened criminal confess to crimes he hadn’t even gotten around to yet. What did she think he was going to do? Ravish her?
“What’s the matter now?”
“Like I said, I’d hate to lose the raincoat.”
“If you’re that afraid, why don’t you turn it inside out and sit on it?”
“Good idea,” she answered. Her eyes
lit up. “Let me go for a minute, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Sure,” Luke answered. He threw open his woolen overcoat with his free right hand, taking care to keep his handcuffed left wrist hidden in its folds. The last thing he wanted was for that fool handcuff on his wrist to spook her.
He hated to let her go, even for a few minutes. He didn’t really understand why, he reflected, as he watched her struggle with her damp raincoat. He’d only laid eyes on her a few hours ago.
His half-formulated plans were still unsettled. A couple of disgruntled individuals were on the loose, eager to get even with him. Under the circumstances, a romantic entanglement at Cancún was the last thing he needed or wanted. But there was something about her that made him want to hold her a little tighter, a little longer.
Maybe because tonight was Christmas Eve he’d had an attack of nostalgia, and she represented a human awareness or a warmth he’d missed out on until now— things he hadn’t gotten around to wanting because of the life he’d led. But when he was with Arden, her touch was something he suddenly seemed to need.
He stirred uneasily. No way was he going to let his thoughts drift in that direction. He had more important things to think about.
His life had become pretty tiresome. Not that anyone besides himself thought so. Everyone who knew him thought his work was mysterious and fascinating. Some even envied him. If they only knew. He’d been shot at, mugged, arrested, fingerprinted, jailed and released more times than he cared to count.
At thirty-two, he’d had enough. Living on the edge had become wearing. And not very lucrative financially, everything considered. He’d helped a lot of people to get their just deserts, and some even became rich in spite of it. Maybe now was the time to think of feathering his own nest with the means he had in his grasp.
He thought of being in some faraway place he could call his own. Of waking up in the same bed for days at a time. Of not having to look over his shoulder. And never having to take another job like this one for the rest of his life.
When Arden had made herself comfortable, nestling herself back into his side, his thoughts turned back to her. The white velvet wedding dress clung to her figure in a way that made him envy her absent husband— if she had one.
Marriage might be okay for her, but not for him. Especially now that he was on the verge of making a decision he couldn’t ask a woman to share.
He waited patiently until she made herself comfortable, then he pulled his heavy woolen overcoat over them.
“Better?” he asked. He was rewarded by a contented murmur. The pressure of her slender form against his engendered a protective feeling that surprised him. And even scared him, now that he had a chance to think of it. He hoped he wasn’t creating any complications for himself.
“So,” he continued, loath to be left alone with his thoughts. “What are you doing here?”
“You already know that,” she answered with a yawn. “I’m on my honeymoon.”
Luke had already decided Arden might not have told the Smiths the real story, or he wouldn’t have invited her to share his warmth. He’d come to the conclusion she was on the Majestic Honeymoon Tour dressed as a bride for a publicity stunt or maybe for a magazine shoot. Now that she’d actually reiterated her story about being on a honeymoon, his good humor plummeted like an express elevator. Considering how he’d been taken by her, it was just as well she was definitely off-limits. He looked cautiously around him.
“So, where’s this groom of yours?”
He gently shifted her weight from his shoulder. If an irate groom or someone with a grudge did show up and decide to take a shot at him, he didn’t stand a prayer of defending himself. Not with her plastered to his chest and in the line of fire. He damned himself for not thinking of the possibility before this.
“He’s not back yet.” She sniffed into his chest and wiped the tip of her nose with her fist. “I think I’m catching a cold.” Unable to reach the handkerchief she’d returned to him, he handed her the corner of his scarf.
“How about running that by me one more time? Back from where?”
“He’s out trying to find the taxicab we came in,” she answered. “I inadvertently left our travel documents in there.”
“What do you think his chances are of finding the right cab on a night like this?” he asked, swallowing his laughter.
Arden shrugged. She wasn’t about to tell him that the last time she saw John he was standing at the church altar waiting for her to come down the aisle. Better to let him think John would eventually show up.
“You’re sure you want to stick to that story?” he asked.
Arden nodded. He probably thought she was out of her mind, she thought as she burrowed closer to his warmth. After what she’d put herself through the past few hours and the unknown that loomed ahead of her, she was beginning to think so, too.
“Of course,” Luke assured her, “strange things happen all the time. Some more strange than others. But in my experience, I’ve found there’s usually a story behind them.”
She listened to his reassuring, steady heartbeat, fighting off the temptation to tell him her story. There was that mysterious take-charge aura surrounding him that gave her confidence, made her feel he’d be willing to understand if she were to tell him…. But she couldn’t.
Arden pretended not to hear. She was going to play dumb. Her reasons for leaving her groom at the altar would probably sound ridiculous to anyone who didn’t know John.
She glanced around at her fellow passengers. Wedding bouquets, trailing ribbons and boutonnieres spoke of happy weddings. Bottles of champagne, rice and confetti clinging to hair and clothing spoke of honeymoons and happy endings. She felt a faint pang of regret. Today could have been her own wedding day.
Maybe she’d run because her father had made marriage sound more like a sentence than the start of a new and happy life. When the vestry doors had closed behind him, she’d heard the doors to a more exciting life start to close. It hadn’t taken more than the sounds of the wedding march to set her off and running. It was either cut and run or settle for being Mrs. John Travers.
Maybe it had been prewedding jitters or stage fright, just as Margo had predicted, but she’d taken one long look through the open vestry door at the altar and hadn’t stayed long enough to find out.
There hadn’t been anything really wrong with John. It was just that she’d realized he had no imagination, no thirst for adventure and that he wouldn’t have understood her if she’d tried to explain it to him. He would have been perfectly happy with his nine-to-five job and coming home to his family and television every night.
As for her, she’d been too settled already. It was a joke among her friends that when children from a very strict family broke loose, they broke loose in a big way. She was no exception. She wanted to be independent, live a life of her own and even have an adventure or two rather than watch it on the big screen.
“So what made you and your husband choose Cancún for a honeymoon?”
“It sounded like an adventurous place,” she answered, her thoughts still lingering on the scene back at the church.
“What kind of adventures did you have in mind?” Luke inquired politely. Personally, he thought a honeymoon would have been adventure enough for him. Especially with a bride as intriguing as the one he held in his arms.
“I’m not certain, exactly,” she answered. “But Cancún seemed to be a good place to start. I’d like to explore the Mayan ruins and spend some time on the other side of the peninsula. I’m sure I could think of something exciting to do after that.”
“I?” Luke swallowed a groan. It was obvious she was alone and, perish the thought, he might be stuck with her longer than he’d thought. He’d invited this woman into his arms when his common sense and his need for secrecy should have stopped him. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so impulsive.
As for Arden Crandall, did she realize what she was letting herself in for? Did she think there were a
dventures waiting for her on every corner? If so, she was headed for disappointment. Besides, she might not like the adventures she found—or the ones that found her.
“I hate to ask, since it’s none of my business,” he said after a slight hesitation. He had to figure out a way to offer her some well-intentioned advice without giving away he knew she was alone.
“I hope you have an income to finance these adventures of yours. They don’t come cheap.”
“I’ve been our church secretary for years,” she answered confidently. “I’ve lived at home, saved most of my salary and invested in small companies that have done quite well. I’m going to sell some stock and use the money.”
A church secretary? How wealthy or experienced could she be? In his opinion, she was a naive young woman who’d broken loose to become another misguided adventure seeker. Poor soul, Luke decided as he looked down on Arden’s glistening curls. Why did everyone else’s grass look greener? His was fast becoming nothing more than dirt and dry weeds. The woman in his arms was looking for adventure, just as he’d decided he’d had enough to last him for the rest of his life.
“Is that what you intend to do? Search for a more adventurous life?”
She nodded. “I guess that’s part of it.”
“And the other part?”
She was too embarrassed to tell him she’d had enough of being her father’s little girl. And that she hadn’t wanted to be John’s, either.
“I’m not really sure,” she answered with a shiver.
But she was sure.
She’d been afraid of losing her own identity and becoming Mrs. John Travers. And that’s why she’d taken off on her own.
She remembered the way her poor mother had cried and how her father had tried to dissuade her when she’d told them she was leaving. She’d already made up her mind. When she grabbed her suitcase and ran out of the vestry, her father was shouting she was on the road to hell. The last she remembered, her mother was sobbing and Margo was jumping up and down, egging her on. And heaven only knew what John was doing back in the church.
