“No. No problem. What makes you think there’s a problem?”

“Because you won’t look at me.”

“Maybe I don’t like to look at you.”

“Annie.”

“Why are you here?” At her sides, her hands fisted. “Haven’t you humiliated me enough today?”

“Humiliated? You’re kidding, right?” He took a step toward her, so that the only thing that separated them was the ridiculous curlers in her hair. The tip of her head didn’t quite come up to his chin, and the oddest feelings slammed into him.

Protectiveness.

Possessiveness.

Oh, man. Big mental step back here. Biiiigggg one. “I never humiliated you.”

She let out a low laugh and continued staring at the door.

Ah, hell. Why was he here? He could no longer remember, but felt certain it had something to do with wanting to tease her about the strippers and her reaction to them. About offering to strip for her, just so she didn’t feel left out.

He hadn’t expected his tomboy to be wearing a facial mask and breast cream, looking so…well, vulnerable.

“I’d like you to leave-” She gasped when he tossed the breast cream to the bed and whirled her around.

“That’s better,” he decided, keeping his hands on her shoulders to prevent her escape. “Talk to me, not the door.”

“The door cares about my feelings more than you do.”

That stunned him for a moment, during which time he realized he was still holding her. She felt good in his hands, damn good, and before he could help it, he’d shifted a little closer. “I care about your feelings.”

“No, you care about the cream.”

His gaze dipped down to the edges of the tank top, and the smooth curves plumping out of it.

“You’re wondering.”

He looked into her face. “Wondering?”

“If I still have the cream on.”

No, he was wondering which bridesmaid put it on for her and if they’d let him watch next time.

“Kyle?”

He was lost in the fantasy. “Hmm?”

“I’m waiting with bated breath to hear why you’re here.”

Why he was here. “The strippers.” He was pleased to remember. “You were bothered by them. And I…” Nothing to do here but speak the truth. “I was going to offer to make you feel a little easier about it. You know, the whole stripping thing.”

“By…”

“Well…” He tried his most charming smile. It wasn’t a tool he used often, but whenever he had put it to the test, it hadn’t failed him yet.

Annie just stared at him.

Damn. It failed him. First time for everything, he supposed. “I was…uh, going to offer to strip for you.”

She let out a laugh. “And that would have made me feel more comfortable, how?”

Her voice said, “not interested,” but as he watched, her nipples puckered. Gotcha, he thought.

“You know this might be a huge shock to your ego,” she said, crossing her arms and thereby removing his most excellent view. “But I’m not interested in you.”

He took another step forward, watching with amusement as her chin came up. She refused to back up, though, his lovely, angry princess, which suited him just fine as it allowed her body to brush his. “Let’s stick to the truth,” he said.

“Which is?”

“Which is…” He reached out and ran a hand over her mud-slathered jaw. “You’re attracted to me, every bit as much as I’m attracted to you. You’re yearning and burning to find out if we’d be as combustible together as it seems. And…” he leaned in to speak directly in her ear, his lips just brushing her skin, causing a shiver that wracked his body as well as hers “…you want to know if making love with me would be…what did you say? Overrated.”

She went utterly still.

“It wouldn’t be, Annie. It’d be perfect.”

He would have sworn she let out a little sound that conveyed her reluctant arousal at his words before she turned and jerked open the door.

“Good night.” Her voice shook just a little.

“Annie-”

“Good night.”

“Dream of me,” he said, walking past her.

Because he sure as hell would dream of her, and misery loved company.

9

BY THE NEXT NIGHT, Kyle had reaffirmed his decision to not get married. He’d truly had no idea how many functions one single wedding could create.

He’d been to breakfasts, lunches, dinners, meetings with caterers and florists and photographers, and quite frankly, was getting tired of holding his brother’s hand.

“You’re on your own,” he finally told Kevin, the night after the bachelor-bachelorette party. They were standing in the open area downstairs, where Kevin was trying to talk Kyle into some partying on his last night of freedom.

Tuning out his brother, Kyle looked across the room and met a pair of golden eyes.

Annie had one hand on the stairs as if she’d intended to go up. She wore a pair of faded jeans and a simple T-shirt. Her hair flowed loose. Just a woman, a regular woman.

Who happened to be a princess.

Who happened to be more bossy than his own sergeant.

Who stirred his blood.

“Kyle?” Kevin waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Kyle.”

“Yeah. I’m here.” When he turned back to the stairs, Annie was gone. He ignored the quick stab of regret. “I’ll tuck you in if you’d like, but then I’m going to crash.”

“Never mind.” Kevin’s eyes lit with trouble. “I think I can find my way to a bed.”

“Not Lissa’s,” Kyle warned. “It’s the night before the wedding, remember? I think getting lucky is out of the question, unless you’re getting lucky alone.”

“Hey, I’m getting a marriage certificate tomorrow, which states I never have to get lucky alone again.”

“You keep thinking that. And anyway, Lissa’s at her wedding shower tonight, remember? Girls only.” Kyle shuddered at the thought of having to attend a wedding shower. “She made me promise to keep you away.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you crash the shower.” Kevin sounded disgusted. “I mean, heaven forbid you get lucky by accident. What’s happened to you anyway? You used to be such a slut.”

Kyle didn’t want to think about that, or why he suddenly-as in the past four days suddenly-wasn’t interested in going on the prowl. He stared up the staircase, wondering if Annie was going to wear that skimpy little tank top and those sexy-as-hell boxers.

“Does this newfound sainthood have anything to do with one mouthwatering beautiful European royal?” Kevin wondered, following Kyle’s gaze.

“Of course not.”

“Of course not,” Kevin repeated, then snorted his disbelief. “Right.”

“Say good-night, Kev.”

Kevin sighed. “Good night, Kev.”


“THIS ISN’T A co-ed shower, right?” Annie wanted that clarified up front. “Just us girls, right?”

Lissa laughed. “Just us girls.”

A little suspicious after last night’s fiasco, Annie walked into the lounge area of Lissa’s honeymoon suite where she’d moved earlier that day. Annie was feeling on edge and overly alert.

The room was decorated for a bridal shower, no doubt. Silver streamers cascaded from the ceiling. Silver and the all-too-familiar-pink balloons floated around the room, among flowers and presents and the biggest cake Annie had ever seen.

She hoped it was an ice-cream cake. She really needed ice cream.

With a broad smile, Sharise handed Annie a large silver-and-pink gift bag. “Here you go.”

“What is it?”

“Your outfit.”

Annie already had an outfit, thank you. She’d changed from her jeans and T-shirt into a very comfortable pair of slacks and a lightweight sleeveless sweater with a pair of flats she’d be comfortable in walking anywhere. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, didn’t Lissa tell you? This is a theme shower.”

Annie blinked. “A theme shower.”

“Yes. Our theme tonight is lingerie. Sexy lingerie. A woman from an expensive boutique has put it all together for us. We were each supposed to log online and purchase an outfit for Lissa. Didn’t you do that? We’re going to model them for her.”

“Um…”

“I can’t wait to see how we all look.”

Annie did not have a good feeling about this. “But as Lissa is the bride, shouldn’t she try all the stuff on herself?” She hid her gift bag-with her own nicely wrapped present which was most definitely not sexy lingerie-behind her back.

Sharise laughed, then put her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “You are so funny. Lissa and I had no idea how funny you were.”

Being told she was funny when she was utterly serious gave Annie a very bad feeling. “Sharise, explain this bag you’re handing me.”

“The invitation explained it all, didn’t you read it?”

Uh, no. She hadn’t. Amelia had stockpiled all the invitations for her, warning her to go through the entire stack, which of course she hadn’t.

Told you, came Amelia’s stern British voice in her head, so crystal clear that Annie actually turned around and looked for the woman.

No one.

Annie shook her head. This wasn’t the time to debate her sanity.

“Oh, you royals.” Sharise laughed again. “I know how busy you are, and how many assistants you all have. I guess you never got around to reading about all the wicked fun we’re going to have.”

Wicked fun? Oh, boy.

“But someone picked out something for you to give Lissa.” Sharise opened her own bag and lifted out a filmy white teddy that absolutely would not cover the essentials, and a matching “robe” that would only enhance the deficit. The matching slippers were white satin, four inches minimum, and fur topped. “This outfit is from me. Pretty, don’t you think?”

Yeah, if one was a virgin sacrifice. “Well-”

“You should see the one Lissa has to wear tonight. It’s this pink little number, and…”

“Looks like Little Bo Peep? Does it match the bridesmaid dresses?”