Maid of Dishonor (17 page)

She looked away, not sure she could hear him say this now, when it was too late to make a difference. She chewed her lip, the metallic taste of blood doing nothing to stop the single tear slipping over her lid. He brushed it away with his thumb, then hooked a finger under her chin.

‘You're such a faker, aren't you, sugar? You had me fooled there for a while, with your tough cookie act, but I figured it out.'

She raised her chin, blinking rapidly to stop any more stupid tears materialising. ‘Figured out what exactly?'

* * *

Damn, she looked so forlorn and so determined not to show a single sign of weakness. How could he ever have doubted the existence of that brave, generous, honest heart behind the tough girl facade?

He'd screwed up. Not just ten years ago by not recognising how perfect she'd always been for him. But also a week ago, when he'd tried to bully her into admitting her feelings, without having the guts to admit his own. He just hoped to hell he wasn't too late to stop those screw-ups from destroying whatever chance they might have at a future.

But he had to tread gently now. She'd had her confidence battered over the years—not just by her old man, but by him too. He'd left her high and dry when she'd needed him the most, because he'd been too busy dealing with his own issues to appreciate what was right under his nose. The news of her miscarriage had been a shock—but once he'd got past the knee-jerk feeling of betrayal, the much bigger shock was how much it had hurt to know she had carried his child and he'd had no idea.

‘You want to know my biggest regret, sugar?'

‘Not particularly, but I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway.' She sniffed, still channelling the tough cookie act, even though the sheen of moisture in those large green eyes meant it was a total wash.

‘My biggest regret is that while I was busy browbeating you last week into staying in Savannah, I didn't take the time to tell you how I feel about you.'

Now for the tough part.

He gripped her hands and slid down onto one knee.

Her eyes widened in horror as she tugged her wrists, frantically trying to yank him back onto his feet. ‘Carter? What the hell are you doing?' she snapped as she sent a panicked ‘rescue-me' glance to her friends over his head.

He ignored that, as well as his sister's strangled gasp, the soft whisper of ‘Someone pinch me, I think I've been transported into a chick flick,' from Reese, and the Texan growl of ‘Who the hell
is
this guy?' from the man he'd recognised from his NFL days as the groom.

‘Carter, please, get up, you're making a scene.'

His lips curved at the panicked plea, he was unable to ignore the irony of the situation. Who knew he'd finally get the better of Gina Carrington, not with temper or charm or hot and sweaty sex, but with a cheesy show of sentiment. If this worked out, he was so going to spend the rest of his natural life lavishing her with grand romantic gestures in public places to keep her in line.

‘Damn straight I am,' he said, holding onto her wrists and swallowing down the big fat ‘if' that had gotten stuck in his throat. ‘I'm assuming the position here, because there's something I need to say to you. And this is the only way I know to prove to you I'm sincere.'

Her eyebrows had levitated to her hairline, but she'd stopped trying to free her hands, which he took as a positive sign.

‘Right, here goes nothing.' He pressed his thumbs into her wrists and felt the butterfly flutter of her pulse. Even better, she wasn't totally immune.

‘I love you, Gina Carrington.' She bucked but he held firm and kept going. ‘I love your fire and your passion, your honesty, your integrity, your smart mouth and your bad attitude and that sexy dimple on your butt.'

She gasped and found her voice at last. ‘I do not have a dimple on my—'

‘I love the way your eyes go all squinty with temper when you're mad,' he interrupted, basking in that exact look. ‘And I love the way they go all dazed and dewy when you come.'

‘Oh, for Pete's sake!'

‘I love the fact that you think you're such a tough cookie. And most of all I love that soft, giving, open heart that you try so hard to keep hidden—but you showed to me one incredible summer night a decade ago, and I've had several tempting glimpses of this summer in Savannah. I'm not a great bet for the long haul, I know that. But then neither are you, so I figure we're even there. And if you'd be willing to take a chance on me, I'm more than ready to take a chance on you.'

He lifted off his knees, cradled her cheeks, so desperate to hold her his body felt as if it were caught in a tractor beam. There was one more thing, though, that had to be said, and it was the hardest of all.

‘Now, you can tell me you don't love me and I'll walk out that door and never contact you again.' He stroked her face, willing her to give him another chance. ‘But don't lie, sugar. Because I'll know, and then I'll just have to get back on my knees and embarrass us both all over again.'

He could hear the hush of anticipation, not only from her friends but from the sizeable crowd in the hall who'd all been silenced by his declaration.

She swallowed audibly. ‘Do you have any idea how much I want to kick your butt at this moment, Carter Price?'

The grin spread across his face—and his heart—because he could hear the hitch in that sultry purr, and knew he'd struck gold. ‘You didn't just answer my question with another question, did you, sugar?'

A small laugh choked out through the tears tumbling down her cheeks. Then she flung her arms around his neck and whispered into his hair. ‘I love you too, Rhett. But I'm still going to kick your butt the first chance I get.'

Spontaneous applause broke out around the hall as he covered her lips with his and sank into the long-awaited kiss.

When they were both forced to come up for air, he held her at arm's length and said with a smile that he was pretty sure reached both ears simultaneously, ‘Frankly, my dear, I'd enjoy watching you try.'

* * *

After all the drama, Cassie and Tuck's wedding went off like a dream. The bride saying her vows in a sure, steady voice and then turning to smile at her friends once Tuck had said his.

Gina had to be grateful that Carter's warm palm anchored her hip to his side throughout the ceremony, or she would surely have floated off on a cloud of bliss. His insane declaration in front of half of Manhattan had terrified her at first, but as his words sank into her consciousness the strangest thing had happened—the panicked beat of her heart had slowed, the lead weight in her stomach had dissolved and all those barriers that she'd spent so many years erecting and maintaining had come tumbling down in one fell swoop.

She laid her head on Carter's shoulder in one of the limousines Reese had booked to transport them to Cassie's reception party, and listened to Carter chat easily to Dylan—the two of them having developed mutual amnesia about their earlier stand-off, like typical guys. Staring into space, she used the moment of calm to contemplate the difficult decisions in her future.

Carter had invited himself back to her place tonight and told her he'd organised a week's leave from the Mill, but the eight hundred miles that separated them were going to be the first obstacle they'd have to discuss.

But as the car cruised through the early evening traffic, and she watched the office workers flooding into the subway to begin the Labor Day weekend, she had a sudden yearning for the subtle pace and relaxed gentility of Savannah. While she'd once thrived on the manic energy of the City That Never Sleeps, it didn't seem quite so necessary any more, now she was embarking on a relationship that promised to generate enough energy to fuel a nuclear power plant.

Marnie sat on the other side of the limo, her unfocused gaze fixed on something out of the window, but when her eyes flicked to her brother and then back out of the window Gina knew the siblings' strained relationship was going to be a much bigger hurdle to overcome than her living arrangements.

The Tribeca Terrace was everything they had wanted in a surprise party venue. Reese had put her organisational skills to work on the ride over, ensuring an extra place setting for Carter appeared as if by magic amid the balloons, streamers and the enormous Just Hitched banner she'd already arranged to adorn their table.

Gina's thanks for her friend's thoughtfulness was greeted with a cocked eyebrow. ‘Don't think I've forgotten your gross dereliction of shag and share duty. If he's not the Mystery Studmuffin, I'll eat my Jimmy Choos.' But then she added in a soft murmur that had Gina repairing her mascara again, ‘I'm thrilled for you two. After all the heartache you've both been through, you deserve this chance.'

As the evening progressed Gina found her flirt gene shimmering happily back to life under Carter's heavily lidded gaze—the desire to race back to her apartment and tear his clothes off becoming increasingly imperative. But as they swayed together on the restaurant's small dance floor, the slow rub of his body against hers making her throat dry, she noticed Marnie pouring herself a hefty glass of Chardonnay while Dylan sat opposite her, engrossed in his smartphone.

Pulling Carter's head down by the ears, she whispered, ‘You need to speak to your sister. Sort things out with her.'

He nuzzled her neck. ‘I don't need Marnie's permission and neither do you.'

Gina sighed, forced to file ‘fixing his relationship with his sister' into a folder marked ‘works in progress'—Carter's response making it blatantly obvious that his relationship with his sister seemed to have arrested somewhere around Marnie's eighteenth birthday.

Her thoughts scattered completely when his hands drifted down to her butt: ‘I suggest you save your freak out about Marnie for another time,' he murmured, giving her backside a proprietary squeeze. ‘Because you've got something a lot bigger to handle tonight, sugar.'

The husky giggle, which was never far from the surface now, bubbled out as his hips brushed against hers—and the casual endearment settled around her like a golden fog.

She'd never considered herself a sweet person, but somehow Carter Price's good opinion had managed to shear off a lot of her sour edges and—while shedding that protective layer of sarcasm altogether would have to be another ‘work in progress'—she couldn't wait to discover her inner Pollyanna.

Fisting her fingers into his hair, she dragged his mouth down to hers.

That said, she didn't intend to let true love turn her into a total sucker.

‘Oh, don't you worry, Rhett.' She pressed provocatively against the rather prominent bulge in his suit pants. ‘I think I've got the measure of you,' she purred, delighted when his heartfelt groan was followed by an exceptionally sinful kiss.

* * * * *

Look for Marnie's story in
LAST GROOM STANDING
Coming soon

Keep reading for an excerpt from
If You Can't Stand the Heat…
by Joss Wood.

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