Texas Glory. Joan Elliott Pickart
Her speech had been well received, Glory mused foggily. The applause had been loud and long, and afterward the favorable comments were numerous.
All in all, she had no complaints about the way things had transpired in Austin, except for the fact that she was so tired she practically had to remind herself to inhale, then exhale.
Oh, what she would give for a bubble bath, then bed, and hours and hours of undisturbed, rejuvenating sleep.
Glory was vaguely aware of activity next to her, but she kept her eyes closed, assuming the passenger in the middle seat was settling in.
Fine, she thought. The sooner everyone got their bottoms planted, the quicker this plane could leave Austin and make the hour flight to Houston and home, and her waiting, welcoming bed.
“Where’s your seat belt?” a man with a rich, deep voice asked. “Oh, here it is. There you go, buddy. You’re all set. You sit there and behave like a good little guy. Okay? See? I’m right here next to you.”
Oh, dear, Glory thought, apparently she had been seated next to a father with a young son. She adored children, she really did, but she hoped to the heavens that this one was well behaved and quiet.
Moments later, as the airplane began to move, Glory allowed the rumble of the engines to drift over her senses like a comforting blanket. She was semiconscious of the pressure of liftoff, the plane tilting, then straightening again.
She was up among the peaceful clouds, she thought dreamily. It was a perfect place for a nap.
Glory gave way to blissful slumber.
Bram Bishop leaned slightly forward to get a better view of the woman in the seat next to the window.
Sleeping Beauty, he thought, just like in the fairy tale. Man, oh, man, she was one beautiful woman.
Her strawberry blond hair was swept away from her face to clearly display her delicate features. He couldn’t tell if her hair was just extremely short or if she had one of those bun gizmos.
Long lashes fanned her peaches-and-cream cheeks, and her lips were slightly parted, begging to be kissed.
The silky, rose-colored blouse she was wearing defined lush breasts, and her navy blue slacks gave evidence of gently sloping hips and long legs.
And there was no wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand.
“Want to trade seats?” Bram said to the traveling companion he’d boarded the plane with. Certainly not expecting a reply to his question, Bram frowned, grabbed a magazine from the pocket in front of him and settled back in his seat.
His lousy luck was running true to form, he thought. He was in close proximity to a gorgeous lady, and she was sound asleep! She was a captive audience for getting-to-know-you chit-chat during the hour flight, but was she smiling, eager to communicate? Hell, no.
Bram shook his head in frustration, flipped through the magazine, then jammed it back into place.
He was beginning to believe that he’d never find a wife, a woman to share his life, have their children, be the other half of his dream of forever love. He’d begun his quest to find the woman of his heart more months ago than he cared to count.
The decision to marry had been a mutually agreed-upon project with his brothers. Both Tux and Blue had done it, the lucky sons-of-guns. Tux had Nancy. Blue had Amy. They were couples. Husbands and wives.
And he, Bram Bishop, was still alone and, damn it, lonely, with no one even in the running as a candidate for his wife.
What was wrong with him? He was a nice guy, decent looking, and he had a prosperous construction company that was growing by leaps and bounds. He liked babies and puppies and had learned, at his mother’s knee, which fork to use and the importance of treating women with gentlemanly respect at all times.
When he was part of the swinging singles scene, he’d had women falling all over him. But ever since he’d decided he wanted to get married, that flock of females left a lot to be desired.
Bram sighed.
Well, he’d just have to hang in there, not give up, stay ever alert for a possible wife candidate. It sure as hell would help his cause, though, if pretty women like the one seated by the window would stay awake long enough for him to at least say hello.
Bram glanced up to see the flight attendant making her way slowly down the aisle. She was pushing a cart and distributing drinks and small packages of peanuts to the passengers.
Well now, he thought, opportunity was knocking. Sleeping Beauty was going to miss out on having a refreshing beverage if she continued to snooze.
The considerate thing for him to do would be to gently wake her and inquire if she was thirsty. She could always go back to sleep if she wasn’t interested in either a drink or in talking to him.
Good plan.
Except...
How did a man rouse a sleeping woman he didn’t know? What part of her delectable person should he touch to ensure she wouldn’t start hollering for the cops?
Bram unsnapped his seat belt and leaned forward to get a full view of the woman. Reaching across his companion in the middle seat, Bram tentatively pressed one fingertip on the lady’s knee.
Glory raised her lashes slowly, reluctantly, unaware she was turning her head to the side at the same time.
In the next instant her eyes flew wide open, and she stiffened. A scream began to build in her chest and work its way up to her throat, headed for her mouth.
She was staring at the biggest, stuffed toy panda she had ever seen.
“Oh, Lord,” Bram said, watching the reactions of the woman.
Without thinking it through, Bram clamped his hand over the woman’s mouth. She shifted her terrified eyes to his face
“Don’t scream,” Bram whispered. “Please, stay calm. I just thought you might want a cool drink. The flight attendant will be here in a couple of minutes. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Okay? Are you with me here?”
Flight attendant? Glory’s mind echoed frantically. Oh, yes, of course, the airplane, the flight home to Houston. Fine. She understood now.
What wasn’t fine, though, was that a strange man, albeit an incredibly handsome man, had his large hand over her mouth. Also not dandy was the fact that there was an enormous toy panda, with seat belt in place around its fat middle, sitting next to her.
Glory frowned. Bram removed his hand quickly from her mouth and produced his very best smile.
“Hi,” he said, “I’m Bram Bishop. I’m really sorry I startled you. I guess I should have let you sleep through refreshment time.”
Wrong, he thought. Sleeping Beauty awake was even more beautiful than Sleeping Beauty asleep. She had the most expressive green eyes he’d ever seen. They completed her lovely features to perfection.
“And you are?” Bram said pleasantly, raising his eyebrows.
“Not happy,” she said, glaring at him. “You scared me half to death. You can’t go around poking a woman’s knee. You’re going to end up in jail one of these days.”
“Oh,” he said. “I really am sorry. I was trying to be a nice guy. You know, didn’t want you to miss having a drink if you wanted one.”
“Mmm,” Glory said. She looked at the panda. “And what, or who, is that?”
Bram straightened slightly, patted the bear on the head and chuckled.
“Great bear, huh?” he said. “See, I was in Austin on business and my brother, Tux, telephoned me. Tux is a year older than I am. I have a twin brother named Blue, too. Blue and Amy were married last month.