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Authors: Nora Roberts

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BOOK: The MacGregor Brides
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Had she sulked because he refused the invitation to share Thanksgiving dinner at Hyannis Port? Of course not. She’d missed him, and certainly she’d have liked him there, but she hadn’t pressed or nagged or wheedled.

Therefore, Laura concluded as she tossed snow over her shoulder, she wasn’t in love.

When hands gripped her hips, the shovel went flying. She was whirled around before she could
manage more than a strangled scream, and then she was staring into very annoyed blue eyes. She noted that Royce’s head was covered with snow, that it coated his shoulders. And that his mouth was moving.

“What?”

He shook his head, took a deep breath, then shoved one end of the headphones off her ear. “I said, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m clearing the driveway.”

He raked a hand through his dark hair to scatter snow. “So I noticed.”

“Did I hit you with that last shovelful?” She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, and struggled to keep her voice sober. “I’m sorry.” A laugh hitched out, poorly disguised as a cough, as he narrowed his eyes. “Really, I didn’t know you were behind me.” She gave up, wrapped her arms around her stomach and let the laugh free. “I really am sorry, but you keep sneaking up on me.”

“If you weren’t blasting music in your ears, you’d be able to hear the rest of the world. And why the hell are you out here shoveling snow?”

“Because it’s there, and so’s my car, and I have to get into the office.”

He took the sunglasses off her nose, slipped them into the pocket of her coat. “I don’t suppose there’s a single young boy in this neighborhood who could use ten bucks for shoveling your driveway.”

“I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” Suspicious, she fisted her hands on her hips. “If you’re even thinking about saying something insulting, like this is man’s work, I’ll have to pick up that shovel and brain you with it.”

He caught her chin in his hand, drew her face up, close to his. And smiled in challenge. “It’s man’s work.”

She let out a sound like a hissing kettle and whirled. But he beat her to the shovel. “Go inside,” he ordered. “Warm up. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m doing it.” She gripped the handle of the shovel and frustrated herself with a useless tug-of-war. “It’s my car, it’s my driveway.”

“I’m not standing here watching you shovel snow.”

“Oh, and I suppose I should take myself off to the kitchen and make you some hot chocolate.”

“Good idea.” He knew exactly what he was doing, what he was risking when he scraped the shovel under snow. “Hold the marshmallows.” He didn’t even flinch when the snowball exploded on the back of his head. “We’ll play later, as soon as I finish this.”

“I am not making you hot chocolate.”

“Coffee’d be fine.”

“Don’t you have anything to do? Don’t you work?”

“It’s only seven-thirty. I’ve got time.”

And he’d needed to see her, it was as simple as that. He’d told himself he was going into the office early. Then his car had simply ended up in front of her house. He’d sat in it watching her, just watching her. She’d looked like a column of fire against the snow, in that long red coat, the red cap snug on her head.

So he’d sat in the car watching her, wanting her. And it worried him.

The next missile caught the small of his back. He ignored it, kept shoveling.

From the upstairs window, Julia and Gwen studied the scene, their noses pressed to the glass. “How much longer before he grabs her and takes her down?” Gwen wondered out loud.

“Three more hits, tops.”

“Agreed. Ten seconds, at the outside, after she hits the ground, he’ll be kissing her brainless.”

“Five seconds max,” Julia declared. “He works fast.”

“How long before she realizes she’s in love with him?”

“Oh, nice shot, Laura! That’s got to be cold, sliding down his neck. I’d say she might be able to delude herself until Christmas, but that’s the cutoff.”

“I think she already knows.” Gwen smiled wistfully. “She’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

“What about him?”

“Oh, he’s hooked. Did you see the way he was looking at her? The way he always looks at her?”

“Like he’d go on looking at her if Boston fell into the bay? Yeah.”

Gwen sighed. “Yeah. Oh, here it comes.”

The two of them grinned out the window as Royce spun around, as Laura took one step in retreat. “It’s going to be a terrific kiss,” Julia predicted.

Outside, Laura stopped her backward progress and stood her ground. “I want that shovel.”

“You want the shovel? This shovel?” He winged it, distracting her enough to have her watching the flight. Then he tackled her, twisting at the last instant to cushion her fall as they tumbled to the snowy lawn.

“Idiot.” She flung out an arm, got a hefty handful of snow. Before she could rub it in his face, he flipped her. She lost her breath, shivered as snow slipped, cold and wet, down her collar. Then found her mouth much too busy for insults.

He was kissing the cold out of her body, the thoughts out of her head, the strength out of her limbs. She attempted one muffled protest for form’s sake, then wound her arms around him.

She wondered the snow didn’t melt from the lawn and form a lake, and the lake sizzle like a geyser.

“If you think you can get around me that way …” she began when she could breathe again.

“I did.” He grinned, kissed her lightly. “Your nose is getting red.”

“How nice of you to mention it.” This time she did rub snow in his face. Then, giggling wildly, she tried to wiggle away when he swore at her. “Now your whole face is red. Very attractive.”

He wrestled with her, pushed her face into the snow. She gave as good as she got, so that within three minutes of tussling both of them were drenched, covered with snow and breathless.

“Let me up, you bully.” Her voice shook with laughter as she shoved at him.

“First an idiot, now a bully.” He scooped up snow, molded it one-handed.

Her eyes slid to the side, focused on the lopsided ball, then shifted back to his. “Do it and you’ll pay.”

He tossed the ball, caught it neatly. “Well, now I’m shaking.” Playfully he rubbed the snowball along her jaw, up her cheek. She lay still with chin angled and eyes slitted and waited for the worst.

His grin faded slowly. Her pulse began to kick as the laughter died out of his eyes, as his gaze roamed over her face, as his fingers began to trace it.

“Royce?”

“Be quiet a minute.” He said it absently, still running a fingertip along those ice-edged cheekbones. Then he lowered his mouth, skimmed his lips over them. She couldn’t have spoken if her life hung in the balance.

He wanted to believe it was because she was beautiful, because her face was exotic, unique, her body sleek and arousing. But he knew it wasn’t desire that was working in him now. He understood passion, need, hungers. This was more. This was all.

His mouth brushed hers once, lightly, as if testing some new flavor. Then again, and then it lingered.

He’d never kissed her this way. No one had. She’d grown used to the greed, to the urgent demands, even craved them. But this depthless tenderness was new, and it destroyed her.

Her hand slipped limply to the ground. Everything she was, everything she had, yielded to him, to them, to what they had created together.

When he realized she was trembling, he eased back. Shaken, he began to brush the snow off her hair. “You’re cold,” he said briskly. “Small wonder.”

“Royce—”

“You’d better get inside, dry off.” He had to get the hell away from her, he thought, nearly panicked. He had to get a grip on himself. He rose quickly, hauled her to her feet. “You’ve got a yard of hair, and all of it’s wet. I’ll finish the driveway.”

Her stomach was churning into knots, and her head simply wouldn’t stop spinning in slow circles. “Yes, all right.” She wanted to get inside, wanted to sit down until she could feel her legs under her again. “I’ll, ah, make that hot chocolate.”

“I’ll take a rain check.” He moved past her to retrieve the shovel. “Your driveway’s nearly done anyway, and I’ve got things to do.”

They weren’t going to talk about what had happened, she realized, then let out a quiet breath. Better not to talk about it until she figured out exactly what had happened. “Okay.” She began backing up. “You’re welcome to come inside and warm up yourself.”

“I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”

“Later.” She backed into her car, eased herself around it and fled.

She was out of breath when she got inside and busied herself stripping off her coat, unwinding the scarf from around her neck, pulling off her cap and headphones.

It was too hot, she decided, and yanked off the vest she wore over a cashmere turtleneck. She sat on the landing to pull off her boots, yanked off the first of two pairs of socks.

Still too hot, she thought. She’d gotten overheated. She felt feverish. Maybe she was coming down with something. Flu was going around, wasn’t it? Flu was always going around. She’d probably picked up some germ. That was why she felt light-headed and overwarm, why her muscles ached and her limbs wanted to tremble.

She’d take something for it. She’d fight it off.

Then she lifted a hand, touched her fingers to lips that still pulsed from him, that still tasted of him.

Closing her eyes, she laid her head on her knees and admitted the worst. She’d fallen without feeling the jolt, without having the sense to catch herself on the slide.

She had just dropped headlong in love with Royce Cameron.

Chapter 9


You did very well in court today.” Diana smiled at her daughter as they worked together in the law library.

“Thanks.” Laura frowned over the wording of a brief, made a notation in the margin. “It felt good. I really appreciate you letting me do the direct on the coroner.”

“It’s very basic testimony, but still tricky. You handled yourself well. The jury paid attention to you, and just as important, our client trusts you.”

Laura worked up a smile. “Only because you do. Amanda’s your client.”

“You’ve been a tremendous help to me on this case.” Diana scanned the stacks of books piled on the table. “But we’re not there yet.”

“Are you worried?”

“Concerned,” Diana said. “I don’t want her to spend a single day in prison, because I believe she was defending her life. And, Laura, I’m a little concerned about you.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Absolutely. I’m doing exactly what I’ve always wanted to do. My life is exciting and rich. It’s two weeks before Christmas, and for the first time in history, I’ve actually finished my shopping. Mostly. What could be wrong?”

“You don’t mention Royce.”

“He’s fine, too.” Laura looked back down at the paperwork. “I just saw him last night. We went to dinner.”

“And?”

“And it was fine. I enjoy going out with him. I do think it may be best to slow things down a little. We’ve moved awfully fast to this point, and with the holidays coming up, there’s so much going on. It’s a good time to step back a bit and evaluate.”

Diana let out a sigh. “You’re so much like me, it’s almost frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“Honey, you haven’t once said how you feel about him. What you feel for him.”

“Certainly I did. I said I enjoy seeing him, we enjoy each other. He’s a very interesting, complex man, and I …” She trailed off, undone by her mother’s patient gaze. “And I’m in love with him. I’ve ruined everything and fallen in love with him. It wasn’t supposed to happen. I went into this relationship with my eyes open. I’m responsible for my own reactions, my own emotions. It’s supposed to be a physical relationship between two people who like each other, respect each other.”

She cut herself off, squeezed her eyes tight. “I could kill Grandpa for getting me into this.”

Sympathetic, Diana covered her daughter’s hand with hers. “Is it so bad to be in love with an interesting, complex man you like, you respect, you enjoy?”

“It is when we set ground rules at the beginning.”

“Did you?”

“Not in so many words. It was just understood. We’re not looking for love and marriage and family. Royce was every bit as appalled as I was that Grandpa had this harebrained scheme in mind.” She blew out a breath. “I’m all right, really. I’m irritated with myself, more than anything. And I can handle it. It’s just a matter of slowing things down a little, of refocusing.”

“Of being too stubborn, or too afraid to risk your feelings.”

“Maybe.” Laura acknowledged the possibility with a nod. “But I don’t want to lose him, and I would if I complicated things. I’d rather have what I have than watch him walk away.”

“And you’re sure he would.”

“I’m not sure of anything. But I’ve decided to keep things fairly status quo, perhaps with a little distance. Once I have a better perspective, I’ll go from there. And distance shouldn’t be a problem, with the amount of work I have and the holidays.” She put some effort into making her lips curve up. “So, to circle back to the beginning, I’m absolutely fine.”

* * *

With his mood light and the small glossy bag in his hand, Caine strolled back to the offices. He’d slipped out to pick up a necklace he’d had designed for his wife. He could already picture her opening the Christmas gift, and himself slipping the collar of gold and colored stones around her throat.

She was, he thought, going to be very happy.

When he caught sight of the man starting up the steps to MacGregor and MacGregor, Caine’s mood darkened instantly. Royce Cameron, he thought, the man who was playing fast and loose with his baby girl.

“Cameron.”

Royce glanced around, and his own mood, not too cheery to begin with, dropped several levels. Damn MacGregors were everywhere. “Mr. MacGregor.”

“Office hours are nine to five,” he said coolly. “Laura’s assisting on a very important case. If you want to see her, you’d best wait until she’s done for the day.”

“I didn’t come to see Laura. I came to see your wife.”

Caine’s eyes went sharp and hot. “Oh, really? And do you have an appointment?”

“No, but I think she’ll want to see me. It’s a legal matter, Mr. MacGregor, not a personal one.”

BOOK: The MacGregor Brides
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