Her Knight to Remember Read online

  He didn’t take the hint, instead came forward and leaned on the balcony right next to her. So close his arm brushed hers. His face, when he turned it toward hers, was still smug, and so close she could see the setting sun dancing in his eyes.

  Her breath backed up in her throat because he was so gorgeous. Too gorgeous. And incredibly sure of himself.

  And damn, if that didn’t make him all the more attractive.

  “So…why are you so upset?” he wondered, reaching out with one finger, rubbing it over the crease she knew appeared in her forehead when she got herself worked up over something.

  To say she was worked up now was the understatement of the year.

  “Annie?”

  “What?” she whispered.

  “Why are you so upset?”

  “Because…” Because you do something to my insides and I don’t like it. Because I’m melting over the way you’re looking at me, and I don’t like that, either. “I’m not harboring some secret hero fantasy over you,” she said defensively.

  He lifted a shoulder. “Okay.”

  “I’m not attracted to you. Not in the least.”

  “You’re sure protesting a lot.”

  “Did I mention I wanted to be alone?”

  “Yep.” He straightened and reached for her hand. “But what the princess wants, she doesn’t always get. Not tonight, anyway. I was sent out here for you. There’s something Lissa wants you to see.”

  “Unless it’s the Exit sign,” she muttered, “I’m not interested.”

  His laugh was low and sexy. “You should know I was ready to leave the moment I got here.”

  That surprised her. He seemed the type of guy who could have fun at his own funeral. He’d certainly had enough fun at her expense. “What made you stay?”

  “Besides being afraid of Lissa if I left early?” Suddenly there was no teasing in his gaze. “You.”

  She stared at him for one long beat, then tossed her head back and laughed. “Right.”

  “No, really. I—”

  At that moment, Lissa and Kevin and a crowd of others, piled out onto the deck.

  “You nearly missed it.” Lissa grinned while two waiters put out a couple of chairs. “Sit,” she said to the groom and his best man. “I’ve ordered you each a special present. Just because you allowed me to join you tonight doesn’t mean you can’t have a traditional bachelor party.”

  Kevin and Kyle looked at each other. Annie tried to decipher the look on Lissa’s face and gave up.

  Two uniformed women officers pranced—and there was no other word—onto the deck. Before Annie realized what they meant to do, they’d handcuffed each brother to their respective chairs.

  This started an immediate party on the deck as the two cops began to dance.

  The woo-hooing and catcalling got louder. The music was turned up.

  And the two “cops,” thrusting their ample breasts and booties in the men’s faces, began to strip.

  The crowd went wild.

  Kevin blushed beet red.

  Not Kyle. No, he just sat there, clearing enjoying the show. He certainly couldn’t miss it, Annie thought darkly, as the exceptionally built, redheaded stripper kept putting her…parts right in his face.

  It repelled her, disgusted her. It did.

  But it also made her legs inexplicably rubbery. It made her thighs ache, and she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

  And when it was over, she was still standing there, mouth a little open, when Kyle came up to her, obviously still full of himself and mischief.

  “Did you enjoy the show?” he asked.

  “Of course not.”

  He lifted a brow. “You’re not too uptight to admit that was fun, are you?”

  Uptight? She wasn’t uptight! There wasn’t an uptight bone in her body!

  “Are you a prude, Princess?”

  She was still assimilating the uptight insult. When she managed to switch gears, she had to pause.

  Uptight, no she definitely was not uptight.

  But prude…? Damn it, maybe she was. Being a tomboy had given her a certain degree of freedom when it came to how she lived her life. But it had also limited her when it came to relations with the male of the species. “I just still think sex is overrated, that’s all.”

  His good humor faded and his eyes darkened with a light of challenge she couldn’t miss. “Then you haven’t been with the right man.”

  “Oh, yes. Do tell.” She crossed her arms to hide the fact that even her nipples reacted to his sexy voice. “I suppose you’re the right man. Would that be correct?”

  “Are you asking?”

  Was she asking. Lord, no.

  But his lids had dropped over his eyes a little bit, giving him a sleepy, sexy look as he studied her mouth.

  Her tummy fluttered.

  “Princess?”

  How was it possible that just his voice could render her a twisting, melting mass of hormones? No man had ever done that to her before, and she’d tried. Oh, baby, how she’d tried.

  “Are you asking?” he repeated with infinite patience.

  “No. I’m definitely not asking.”

  “Hmm.” The sound assured her he saw right through her. “You be sure to let me know if you change your mind.”

  Change your mind, her body begged.

  She ignored her body. Not an easy task since said body was fairly humming in a completely foreign way she suspected was helpless lust. “I won’t.” But because she sounded weak, she tightened her arms and repeated it. “Of course I won’t.”

  But a little shameful part of her wanted to.

  CHAPTER 7

  THE BACHELOR-BACHELORETTE party lasted a lifetime. Two lifetimes.

  Annie couldn’t wait until the last toast. Couldn’t wait to get to her room, strip down, shower and go to sleep.

  Once asleep she would dream of such comforting things as ice cream. Of her home in Grunberg where the sharp, magnificent mountain peaks and comforting, familiar alpine towns and people provided her with all she needed.

  Or better yet, she wouldn’t dream at all.

  She certainly wouldn’t think of pink satin.

  Or the upcoming wedding.

  Or of one sexy but cocky, stubborn, smart-aleck cop named Kyle Moore.

  Nope. Not a single thought would be spared for the man she didn’t care one iota for.

  That decided, she smiled and toasted and actually salvaged a good time, from this nightmare party. And when it was over, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  Once back at the inn, in her room, she switched her slacks and sweater for her favorite pj’s, which consisted of a spaghetti-strap tank top and a pair of men’s cotton boxer shorts.

  “Perfect.” She flopped on the bed, grabbed the remote, and prepared to be amused by late-night American television. The Brady Bunch maybe, or even her sister Natalia’s favorite, an old Clint Eastwood movie.

  Nat, I wish you were here to argue over the remote with me. I’d even give it to you tonight.

  But then the phone rang. It was the front desk. A message had been left from Her Serene Highness Natalia Faye Wolf Brunner of Grunberg.

  Natalia. Her best friend. One of the few people Annie trusted through thick and thin. Nat would never let her down, never. She must be coming in early, Annie thought with giddy relief. A familiar, loving face in the midst of this horrific wedding, thank you God!

  Then what the desk clerk said sank in. “Could you repeat that, please?” she asked with remarkable calm, because clearly, she needed a hearing aid.

  “Yes, ma’am, I can repeat. She has poison ivy and will not be attending the wedding.”

  “Poison ivy?”

  “Poison ivy.”

  “But…” Annie shook her head. Natalia, the leather-wearing, multipierced sister who acted so tough, and yet was afraid of animals much less the outdoors, had poison ivy? Was that even possible? “How did she get it?”

  “Well—”

  “Where is s