Sharise frowned. “Don’t you like the bridesmaid dresses?”

Oh, dear Lord. “Sharise, you don’t by any chance have any aspirin, do you?”

Sharise laughed. “Like I said, you’re very funny. Show me what was picked out for you to model.”

Annie looked into the bag and saw black. Black shiny vinyl. Black vinyl straps that couldn’t possibly cover anything important.

“Oooh,” Sharise breathed. “Very naughty. And check out those boots at the bottom of the bag.”

Which were also vinyl with stiletto heels nearly five inches high.

“Can’t wait to see that, a sweet little princess all decked out in dominatrix gear.” Sharise tossed her head back and laughed.

“I’m not going to wear this.” Whatever it was.

Sharise sobered. “Oh, but you have to. It’s all part of the fun, you’ll ruin it if you don’t. Please?”

“Sharise-”

“I’d better come with you,” Sharise decided, taking her arm, leading her to the bathroom. “I can’t have you chickening out.”

Chickening out? Is that what they’d think? Annie never chickened out, never. Two incredibly competitive sisters had made sure of that. Besides, she did have the kick-ass lingerie, shouldn’t that make her feel a little better?

Sharise tried to go in the bathroom with her. “I’ve got it handled,” Annie said, blocking the way.

“You might need some help getting it on.” Obviously Sharise wasn’t sure Annie would do it.

But Princess Andrea Katrine Fran Brunner of Grunberg didn’t chicken out of anything. She peeked into the bag again and felt a little faint. Damn it, Natalia, this should have been you. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Sharise said doubtfully. “But call me if you need help.”

“Call you. Got it.” Annie shut the bag and tried not to picture how bad it could be. Whatever it was, she had the feeling she’d rather wear the Little Bo Peep bridesmaid dress for the rest of her life.


IT WAS A SURPRISE all right, the kind that provoked heart attacks. Stunned, Annie could only stare at herself in the mirror. Her frown made the entire getup that much scarier.

“Annie, hurry!” came Sharise’s voice from the other side of the bathroom door. She’d been knocking every two minutes for twenty minutes now. “We’re starting the games.”

“Oh, yippee.” Annie took once last shocked look at herself and opened the door to the virgin-sacrifice Sharise. “Don’t want to miss the games.”

Sharise’s jaw dropped to the ground. “Holy smokes.”

“What?” Was it worse than she thought?

“You look…wow.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just do this.” Annie started to walk past the white-lace teddy-covered Sharise, then reached back for the whip on the counter. With a grim smile, she stalked out of the bathroom.

Sharise just shook her head. “Honey, don’t take this wrong, but you have the best ass I’ve ever seen.”

Annie tripped over the stupid heels and nearly broke her ankle. “That’s just because it’s hanging out.”

“That it certainly is.”

At their arrival in the front room, the small group of lingerie-clad women all stopped talking and clapped. Lissa got up, dressed in what indeed looked like underwear Little Bo Peep would have chosen for herself.

Annie’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. How come yours covers all your parts?”

Lissa laughed. “Don’t worry, my parts aren’t nearly as fabulous as yours. I just hope I look half as good as you when I put that on for Kevin.”

She was going to actually wear this for her soon-to-be husband. Annie looked down at herself. She wore a black vinyl thong-which brought new meaning to the word uncomfortable-and a black vinyl crop top that barely covered her nipples. The black garters and stockings-complete with seams down the backs of her legs-and the shiny, high boots, only added to the effect.

Then there was the impressive whip she held in her hand. “You’re going to put this…this outfit on for Kevin?”

Lisa eyed the whip and waggled her eyebrows. “Of course.”

Annie had had a hard enough time putting it on for the women to gawk at her. It was beyond her fathomable imagination to picture putting it on for a man. “In the daylight?”

Sharise laughed. “Annie, you are so funny.”

Annie was beginning to dislike that statement. These people were insane. She hadn’t come to New Mexico, she’d come to the twilight zone.

Feeling quite bare in the behind, as every little breath brushed air against her far-too-exposed butt, Annie was relieved to sit on the couch so the games could begin.

Her relief was short-lived.

“The first game is called Rate The Stud,” Sharise called out happily.

Sure, why shouldn’t she be happy, she had a robe to cover all her parts.

To play, they all had to stand up, face Lissa, and tell her a studly thing about her soon-to-be husband.

Annie decided right then and there she needed a break. Actually, she needed air. Quickly, quietly, she escaped to the patio. No one followed her, and she felt like a death-row inmate granted immunity. Having been told the men were all out of the way for the night, she walked to the railing without fear of being discovered, leaned over and dragged in some air.

The wedding was tomorrow. Marriage. Commitment.

Forever.

Words she’d thought about in a vague sense, but had never really applied to any of her relationships so far. How could they when just by being herself-a rather opinionated, strong-willed woman, that is-she always scared men away?

If truth be told, she wanted a man to love her to distraction. She wanted a man who didn’t care what she looked like in the most horrendous shade of pink that ever existed. She wanted a man who’d go out of his way to please her, even if it meant having a really stupid bachelor-bachelorette party.

She wanted a man to want her-not her title or her bank account-but her, Annie, the woman.

From inside came the sound of cheers, and Annie knew they must be doing the promised fashion show. She couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t.

Driven by these shaky emotions, that she couldn’t have explained to save her life, Annie moved into the shadows and walked the length of the balcony. She’d just go back inside via the next room over and sneak up to her room.

Simple.

Only nothing in her life was simple. The next room, which looked like a den, was dark.

And locked.

The room after that, possibly a library, was also locked.

And so was the next.

And the next.

Something akin to panic drove her on, in her shiny, skimpy black lingerie that rode up where it shouldn’t and threatened to uncover parts of her that should never see the light of day or, in this case, the dark of night.

Then she imagined having to go back to the fashion show, and pressed on.

Cool evening air caressed her skin. She tried not to picture how she looked-a solid mass of goose bumps on skin far too fair for a black vinyl thong.

A mosquito buzzed by her. She narrowed her eyes. “Bad mistake, bug, I’ve had all I can take tonight.” She wielded the whip and hit pay dirt.

Then tripped on her heels.

Good thing the paparazzi hadn’t followed her to Taos. She could only imagine the headlines.

Princess Annie Changes Her Image.

Tomboy Princess Annie Goes Hookerville.

News At Eleven.

Her father would kill her. Her sisters would never let her forget it. And Amelia…the woman who’d been like a mother to her, her mentor, her friend, would slowly shake her head and yet at the same time somehow make it all better.

Amelia always made it all better.

Annie wished she was home.

Especially when she found the next door locked, too.

Keep your head, came Amelia’s voice, strong and real. Annie didn’t bother looking around, she knew Amelia wasn’t standing there. And then, good luck. The very next room, also dark, also very quiet, had an opened window, with curtains softly blowing from the light breeze.

Keep your head.

Just as always, from across the globe, Amelia came through.

Lifting a stocking-clad, thigh-high-booted leg, Annie swung it over the windowsill.


KYLE HAD HIT dreamland. He was waist-deep in a hot tub filled with big-breasted, naked women, all there to give him pleasure.

Maybe this wasn’t dreamland, it was heaven.

Water lapped at his chest. A blonde sank into the hot tub in front of him, with a knowing, promising, wicked smile on her face. Her mouth hovered right above where he wanted it…

A sound startled his subconscious. Don’t wake up, he told himself. Don’t even think about it.

He sank back into the tub with the women, all of whom pressed closer to stroke their hands over his body while the blonde-

The window in his room slid all the way open.

Damn.

He came all the way awake, and was very unhappy about it. Dreams like that didn’t come along every day, and he’d been just about to get lucky, very lucky, as he hadn’t in some time.

Swiping a hand down his jaw, he blinked and stared at the figure straddling his window, one leg in and one leg out.

It was female.

He knew this because of the outline of the most luscious, curvy body he’d seen in a good long while. Slowly, a bit confused now, he sat up.

Was he still dreaming? The body silhouetted in front of him definitely could have been one of the bodies in the hot tub he’d just been dreaming about.

But, no. Not a dream. He was a cop all the way through to his soul. At the slightest noise he always came awake. He was definitely awake now. He threw the covers aside.

The woman, one leg in his room and one still out, went utterly still.

“Who’s there?” he demanded.

Another long frozen second, and the woman shifted, started to pull back out of his window.