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Of course, the third picture would never happen. Not unless someone dragged her to the altar. Unlikely, given her current attitude.
Plus, there was Brand, someone she’d forged a brief, flaming connection with, only to lose him to her treacherous cousin, Carina. Oh, she’d been stunned by Brand’s selection after they’d shared what felt like such an intimate first date, but she was no match for her cousin. She never hadbeen.
Men had always been attracted to Mia physically, which made her intensely uncomfortable. Carina, on the other hand, captured them like a siren luring them to their doom, with wit, temptation, and naughty promises, all overlaid with passion and endless drama.
Brand must have fallen for it like every other man her cousin ever seduced. And when she’d received word of their marriage, her heart ached. That moment, asharp knife in the back, marked the most painful of her disappointments, and she knew this visit to the Cinderella Ball would be another feather in an already unattractive hat, Anna’s ghostly ministrations be damned.
She turned her back for a moment to inconspicuously adjust the bust of her simple navy-blue strapless dress, praying the double-sided tape would hold, before turning once more to observe the party. She’d always had a lush figure, but her accident had trimmed that down for a while. Now, her curves were starting to return thanks to the near nightly baking sessions inspired by a critical ghost.
Her dress wasn’t a full-length ball gown, which seemed to be the fashion with most of the women entering the gathering, but it caressed her calves, concealing the damage to her scarred leg. Pearls of varying sizes dusted the bottom hemline and a silver star pendent necklace provided the only true feminine flair to the ensemble. She’d paired the costume with a set of short silver strappy heels. The dress had been purchased second hand from a thrift store, ever mindful of her lost income. Despite Anna’s endless advice regarding the gathering, Mia had chosen her own guise.
A man approached where she stood by the fountain, atumbleweed skittering across his path, causing him to pause beside her. She could practically hear Anna’s voice in her head, repeating the same line she said every night since Mia signed up for this event. Take the risk,ragazza dolce.
Attempting subtlety, something she actually excelled at because it was... well… subtle and subtle was in her wheelhouse, she peeked over at him. To her relief, he remained utterly oblivious to her presence. Thank goodness for small favors.
He was exquisitely handsome. Beyond gorgeous. Tall, broad, and rock-solid, he stood in opposition to the cool easterly wind that flowed down the Long Valley. The gusts whipped and pulled at her skirt, wrapping tightly around her calves, throwing her momentarily off balance before she could recover. While she struggled to remain standing, he stood totally erect, unphased by the elements.
It figured. One glance warned he was a man who’d weathered more than one storm and won, though not without a bit of damage. In the setting sun, his eyes blazed a hard, piercing dark bronzed gold that flashed a warning to stay away, while the beauty of his face beckoned a woman to herdoom.
Goosebumps prickled on her arms—aknowing. An awareness. Afeeling of “rightness” in connection with the man beside her. It unsettled her in ways she found intensely uncomfortable, maybe because she’d never experienced such a sensation before. Nor could she understand or control it. The smell of vanilla beans carried on thewind.
Anna.
She stared more blatantly at the man, searching his expression for something that would hint at his nature, but found nothing but a cold remoteness—until he glanced at the mansion. Then his features settled into lines of mild loathing combined with the stoic acceptance of one approaching his execution.
Interesting. It would seem she wasn’t the only one attending for reasons other than personal desire. Before she could look away, he turned his head in her direction. Anagging familiarity fluttered in the pit of her stomach, leaving as quickly as it appeared.
They locked gazes with one another for an endless moment before he dismissed her and moved on, deliberately, relentlessly. Determination in his every step. The setting sun caught in his eyes. Familiar eyes, hauntingly familiar. High cheekbones. Soft, kissable lips. The air whooshed out of her, collapsing her lungs, the weight of the realization crushingher.
Brand Salvatore.Bastardo.Amore. Her cousin’s husband.
Confusion filled her. What the hell was he doing at a marriage ball while married to Carina? Were they divorced? Why had no one in the family mentioned it? Not that they contacted her anymore.
Memories from six years ago hit her like a banked fire given fresh fuel. They shouldn’t still be so fresh or cloud her rationality. That night shouldn’t mean anything, not after all this time. And yet…
It did. He’d been the one who got away, that fact made worse by his marriage to Carina.
Clearly, Mia didn’t meet whatever criteria Brand had formulated for a wife back then, any more than now. Because she didn’t doubt he’d come with a set of criteria. Knowing his ultimate choice in a woman, probably someone seductive and dramatic and a lioness in bed. All attributes that fit Carina, but definitely nother.
She frowned. Still … whynother? Maybe because he’d already proven he preferred her cousin’s personality over Mia’s own (and what the hell had happened to Carina, anyway?). No one would ever call her seductive or dramatic. Just the opposite, in fact. And she really didn’t think she’d be a lioness in bed, though she couldn’t say since she’d never had sex before.
Still. Not a lioness. Maybe a pussycat, if she were lucky. But she wanted to aim for lioness. And for passion. The taste of rejection and fear shook her to her very core. If only she had the nerve to take a page from her cousin’s book and throw herself into a mad, crazy affair. Embrace the wave of emotions riding roughshod through her heart.
If only she were bright, brilliant, fiery. Worth more than just akiss.
Ifonly.
Anna’s voice carried faintly on the wind, “Take the risk,ragazza dolce. Take the risk.”
Mia’s chin firmed. Fine. She’d take the risk. Just this once, she’d risk itall.
Chapter3
The Beaumont’s Cinderella Ball—Forever, Nevada
Brandforced himself to keep walking and not turn around. He refused to proposition the first woman he came across, no matter how much she might appeal. He’d take his time and look around. Then he’d go propositionher.
And if she were taken?
