Chapter 1

The instant his fingers came to rest on her bare skin, they both cursed. A mutual, almost silent hiss, too quiet for any of the crowd encircling the nearly empty dance floor to hear. Their steps didn’t falter. They didn’t blink. But Wyatt also didn’t pretend he couldn’t feel the jolt at the inevitable, unavoidable contact…and neither did Melanie.

He smiled—a generic, just making conversation smile that would fool anyone not looking directly into the hot blue of his eyes. “Well. This is inconvenient.”

“Extremely,” Melanie agreed with a matching bland smile.

He didn’t bother to move his hand. The cut of her emerald-green halter-top bridesmaid dress left him with no alternatives but her exposed back or her satin-covered butt. Her long, straight chestnut hair had been pinned into a tousled updo with tendrils that trailed down her neck, begging a man to twirl them around his finger.

Damn Violet for being the one woman on earth who was determined to make her maid of honor look hot as sin.

As they circled the floor, eyebrows were raised and glances exchanged. He was aware of the picture they made—him blond and elegant, at ease in the tuxedo that made the other cowboys tug at neckties and fidget with cummerbunds; her following his lead as effortlessly if they’d been dancing together for years. They were sleek and athletic, glowing with the pheromones that had been accumulating, molecule by molecule, over the enforced proximity of two days of the standard pre-wedding hullabaloo.

He flicked a glance toward the bride and groom, so wrapped up in each other they wouldn’t have noticed if their attendants had broken into a tango. “Joe is the closest thing I have to a brother.”

Despite the fact that he did have a male sibling.

“Violet is my sister,” she countered. “Her family is my family.”

Despite the fact that her own parents were sitting at a table only a few feet away, pointedly ignoring each other.

He studied the circle of faces that surrounded them, let his gaze settle for a beat on Joe and Violet, then focused on Melanie again, his voice hardening. “I’m not giving them up.”

“Neither am I.”

“So this…” His fingers flexed, a slight, dangerous increase in pressure. “Would be incredibly stupid. Especially for us.”

She tilted her head in question.

“You don’t trust me,” he said.

“Depending on the circumstances. You are a good friend. If you hadn’t forced Joe to come to Texas in the first place, he wouldn’t be over there trying not to fall face-first into Violet’s cleavage—which is pretty damn impressive in that dress.” She smiled fondly at the two of them, then slid her gaze back to meet Wyatt’s. “I’ve seen you risk life and limb for him in the arena.”

He shrugged. “I’m a bullfighter. You do what it takes to make sure the cowboy and your partner walk away.”

He didn’t have to explain. She’d been on the rodeo trail long before she took her first steps, and her brother was also a bullfighter. But she shook her head. “You’d do the same for a complete stranger in a back alley. If I ever got caught in the middle of a convenience store robbery, you’d be the person I wanted standing at the Slurpee machine.”

“But not sitting across the breakfast table.”

She pursed glossy red lips as she considered the question. “It could be crowded—you, me, and whatever agendas you’re working. I’d have a hard time deciding where I fit into the scheme of the day.”

“Says the woman who makes a living parting the unsuspecting public from their hard-earned dollars.”

“Ouch.” But the edge in her voice was more amusement than offense. “I’ll have to tell Human Resources to add that to the marketing director’s job description.”

“And this conversation is a perfect example of why we would be a disaster. Despite this.” He traced a featherlight arc across her skin with his thumb, just to feel her shiver.

She let her lashes flutter lower, to match her voice. “We could sneak off for one night of depraved wedding sex. Get it out of our systems.”

For a moment the possibility hovered between them like a heat mirage. They both inhaled sharply, then exhaled slowly.

“Been there, done that, have the divorce papers to prove it.” He flashed a smile, bright and lethal. “And I have it on good authority that you can—and will—hold a grudge.”

“Every girl needs a superpower,” she said, with an equally toothy smile.

“Yours could make future Thanksgiving dinners a little awkward, don’t you think?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I think I am both reasonable and mature enough to handle myself.”

“History begs to differ.”

Color flared in her cheeks, a visible gauge of her rising temper. “Are you trying to irritate me?”

“Yes.”

She blinked. Then laughed in disbelief. “You really think that’s going to help?”

“Can’t hurt. And it comes so naturally. Just like your reaction.” He twirled her, then pulled her close again, nearly eye to eye with her in heels. “We can’t be friends.”

The song was winding down. One more chorus and he would have to step away to dutifully tap the groom on the shoulder and cut in for the best man’s traditional dance with the bride.

Her gaze drifted to her hand as it rested on his arm, nails bloodred against his black jacket. “We also can’t avoid each other completely.”

“Close enough. Between your job and mine, we’ve barely crossed paths since Joe and Violet got together. If we work at it, we shouldn’t have to see each other except at the holidays.”

“Not a problem for me. I’ve had years of practice behaving myself at Miz Iris’s house.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Also not what I’ve heard.”

“Hey, it was all at least half Violet’s fault.” Her soft laugh was laced with affection. Then her eyes narrowed again as she scraped a fingernail lightly down his neck on the pretense of flicking off a speck of the infernal glitter Violet’s son had blasted them with upon arrival at the reception hall. “So we agree on one thing. This—”

“—is not worth the risk.” Wyatt kept his voice cool, despite the sizzle in his blood.

“And we swear never to speak of it to any of them.” Her gaze sharpened on his face, suspicious. “Ever.”

He curled his lip. “Would you like to spit on our hands and shake to seal the deal?”

“Sunshine,” she drawled, “if I decide to swap spit with you, I guarantee it’ll get a lot messier than that.”

He gave a strangled laugh, dropped his hands, and took a step back as a passing waiter shoved plastic champagne flutes at them for the latest in an endless series of toasts.

Ignoring the drunken ramblings of some distant cousin, Melanie lifted her glass. “Here’s to no lovin’ between this man and this woman.”

“For as long as we both shall live,” he agreed mockingly.

They tapped their glasses together and both tossed back the champagne in a single long swig.

She handed him her empty glass before sauntering over to join Joe and Violet. Wyatt rocked back on his heels, appreciating the view…as he was sure she had intended. Then he turned and walked in the opposite direction—straight to the bar.

Order Kari Lynn Dell’s next book
in the Texas Rodeo series

Fearless in Texas

On sale April 2018