The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride. Sherryl Woods
Laurieâs success was her ability to touch hearts and inspire dreams, even the impossible ones.
The backstage area was cramped, with barely enough room for an office, a storeroom and one remaining room that had to be Laurieâs dressing room. He opened the door, saw the tumble of clothes and cosmetics and smiled for the first time in ages. Laurie never had been much for picking up after herself.
It was a no-frills dressing room, with a metal rod for a clothes rack and bare bulbs around a square mirror. The chair in front of the dressing table was molded plastic, but the bouquet of flowers beside the scattered makeup was lavish enough for the biggest superstar.
While he waited, he tidied up, folding this, hanging that on the bare metal rod stuck in an alcove. He lingered over a scrap of lace and prayed to heaven no man had ever seen her wearing it. Heâd have to rip his eyes out. Finally he tucked the panties into the suitcase sitting on the floor in the corner and pulled out the roomâs only other chairâa straight-backed monstrosity with a seat covered in tattered red plastic. He turned it around until he could straddle it and face the door.
He heard the last refrain of the encore die down, then the thunder of applause, then the sound of laughter in the corridor and boots on the hardwood floor outside the door. His pulse thundered as loudly as a summer storm.
The door swung open and there she was, pretty as ever, with her color high and her long, chestnut brown hair mussed and glistening with glints of gold and damp with perspiration. Heâd seen her looking just like that after sex, only without so many clothes on.
Her mouth formed a soft âohâ of stunned dismay. The color washed out of her cheeks, and for just an instant he thought she might faint, but Laurie was made of tougher stuff than that. She squared her shoulders and met his gaze evenly.
âHey, darlinâ!â Harlan Patrick said in his friendliest tone. âSurprised to see me?â
* * *
Laurieâs pulse was racing so fast, she was certain she was only a beat or two shy of a medical emergency. Sheâd guessed Harlan Patrick would hunt her downâknown he was coming, thanks to Rubyâs warning callâbut seeing him here, so at home in her dressing room, had caught her off guard.
How many times had she found him waiting for her just like this in the old days? How many times had she come offstage, giddy with excitement, and rushed into his waiting arms to be twirled around until her head spun? Of course, there was no crooked grin tonight and his arms were crossed along the back of that pitiful chair, not waiting to catch her up in an exuberant hug.
Lordy, he was gorgeous. Under other circumstances her pulse would have been scrambling from pure desire, rather than panic. The Adams genes were the best in Texas, maybe the best on earth. Even travel weary, Harlan Patrick was pure male, from that angled jaw to his broad shoulders and right on down to the tips of his dusty boots. The sensual curve of his mouth was a reminder of deep, hot kisses that could rock her to her soul.
But the look on his face, so cool and neutral and composed, was worrisome. Harlan Patrickâs emotions were usually right out there for anyone to see. Only when she looked into his eyes did she detect the fire of complete and total fury. Thatâs when she knew that not only had he seen the tabloid, but heâd also realized that Amy Lynn was his.
That left her with a quandary. She could fold right now and throw herself on his mercy or she could stand up to him the way sheâd been doing since their first playground scuffle so many years ago. Her first rule in dealing with him had always been to get the upper hand and hang on for dear life. It was the only way she knew to deal with a steamroller.
âHow did you get in here?â she demanded, every bit the haughty superstar.
âUnfortunately for you, the security guardâs a fan. He never even noticed me. Be glad I wasnât a stalker, sugar, or youâd be in a heap of trouble.â
She had a feeling in his own way, Harlan Patrick was every bit as dangerous as any stranger about now. âI could have the guard in here in a flash if you start stirring up trouble,â she threatened. âNobody gets backstage without a pass, and Chester has a very jittery trigger finger.â
âNow, darlinâ, why would I want to stir up trouble for you?â he asked in a patient tone belied by that hard glint in his eyes.
She refused to be taken in by the deceptively mild question. Skepticism lacing her voice, she asked, âThen this is purely a social call? You just happened to be in Montana and thought youâd drop by to catch the show? Weâre just a couple of old friends getting together to catch up?â
âCould be.â
âWhy donât I believe that for a minute?â
âGuilt, maybe?â
He looked her over so thoroughly, so knowingly, that it took everything in her not to bolt or spill her guts, pouring out the whole story behind her decision to keep Amy Lynn a secret from him. She forced herself to wait him out.
âSo, tell me, Laurie,â he began eventually, âanything new in your life?â
Oh, he knew, all right, she thought, listening to this cat-and-mouse game of his. She could have strung him along for another minute or two, maybe more, but why bother? Now that heâd found her, they were going to hash this out sooner or later. Hopefully they could get it over with right here in her dressing room. It was a hell of a lot better than having it out at the hotel, where Amy Lynn was already fast asleep with Val watching over her.
She looked him straight in the eye and forced his hand. âCome on, Harlan Patrick, spit it out. You saw the tabloid, didnât you?â
His gaze locked with hers. âI did.â
There was that neutral tone again. It was maddening. âAnd?â she prodded.
âAnd I want to know why the hell you kept my daughter a secret from me?â
There was the blast of temper sheâd been expecting, the confirmation that heâd guessed it all. Laurie didnât bother trying to deny the truth. In fact, she was glad it was finally out in the open. The secret had been weighing her down for months now, ever since the home pregnancy test sheâd taken had turned out positive. She hadnât been able to go near Los Piños so her mama could see the baby for fear of Harlan Patrick finding out that sheâd deceived him. At last she could put all of that behind her. She told herself she should be grateful, but all she felt was a gut-wrenching sense of fear.
âI made a choice,â she told him quietly. âYou and I had said our goodbyes. We had finally admitted once and for all that it wouldnât work with me being on the road all the time and you chained to that ranch you love so much. How could I tell you that there was a baby on the way?â
âHow could you not tell me?â he countered in that same patient, lethal tone. âDid you think for one second I wouldnât want to know, that I didnât deserve to know?â
âNo, of course not, butââ
He was on his feet now, pacing, agitation replacing patience and calm.
âBut nothing,â he said, whirling on her.
He grabbed her arms, clearly fighting the urge to shake her. With any other man she might have been afraid of the look in his eyes, but she knew Harlan Patrick as well as she knew any human on earth. There wasnât a violent bone in his body. Even now, he had a tight rein on his temper.
Then again, as far as she knew, heâd never been tested like this before.
She looked into his eyes and saw beyond the outrage, saw the genuine hurt and anguish, and that was her undoing. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
âIâm sorry,â she whispered.