Free When Honey Got Married by Kimberly Lang, Ally Blake, Kelly Hunter, Anna Cleary Page A

twenty-four crazy hours after that kiss she’d floated in a beautiful dream…
    Instead of tumbling her on her back and whipping down her knickers, Brent Delacroix was wooing her like a true old-fashioned gentleman. Like…Baron von Trapp. Or Ashley Wilkes.
    As if anyone like that had ever really existed. She and Brent were hardly back in Bellefleur when the town was buzzing with the news. Brent had proposed to Honey Moreau.
    Engaged.
    The shock was a slap in the face to Eve. Why had he done it? So soon after Dallas? After their kiss?
    Sometimes Eve wondered if Honey had done the proposing. Snatched him up because Eve was a threat. And if Brent, sweet, compassionate Brent, hadn’t wanted to hurt the poor little rich girl’s feelings.
    Secretly, Brent might be every bit as miserable at this moment as Eve. Why else would he have invited her to his wedding?
    What a fool she’d been to walk away. What a blind, lovesick fool.
    She felt her throat begin to thicken. If only she could somehow detach him from Honey tonight and tell him how she felt. Give him a chance to choose. People were allowed to change their minds right up until the moment of the “I do,” weren’t they?
    Rainer was scanning her face, his eyes gleaming with a warmer light than usual.
    “Cheer up, now, gorgeous. You can’t win ’em all. Flirtini,” he told the barman. “Make mine bourbon.” He smiled at Eve. “You look like a vodka woman to me.”
    Eve made an effort to pick herself up off the floor.
    “I don’t know why you would assume that. I hardly drink at all, except at wakes. Train crashes. Tragedies.” She swiveled her chair so she could keep Brent in view, though it was hard to keep Brent and eliminate Honey at one and the same time. “Times of mourning and terrible heartbreak.”
    “Must have to do with those Fifth Avenue shoes you’re wearing.”
    She noticed Rainer’s gaze drift down to her Louboutins. At least it was gratifying someone had noticed them. Almost automatically she crossed her legs, but then—damn—her skirt rode up too high and she needed to uncross them. Then she dangled a shoe from her toes and let her foot swing some.
    Maybe it seemed flirty, but her heart wasn’t in it. It was a mere primitive reflex. With so many of the town gossips present, it seemed a pity to disappoint her public.
    And she could tell Rainer wasn’t minding one bit. He scanned her knees, a smile playing on his mouth. “You know, it was touching, that little sigh you gave.”
    She glanced warily at him. “What sigh?”
    “When Brent pecked your pretty cheek. What were you for hoping for? Something more significant? Maybe a kiss full on the lips? Deep and soulful? Tongues?”
    Her spine stiffened in shock. This guy was up-front. Did he have any respect for a woman’s tender feelings? If one of the Dixon sisters hadn’t sidled up to the bar right then and ensconced herself a couple of spots along, Eve might have forgotten her manners and slammed him for his nerve.
    As it was, she kept her words to a stern murmur. “You are rude , mister. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Yes, you do. You know. Don’t think I don’t sympathize. I know what it is to lust.” His gaze rested appreciatively on her mouth.
    “Shh.” Frowning, she darted a glance along to where Jenna Mae Dixon was stretching her gawky neck, straining to listen.
    Forced to lean closer to Rainer, Eve lowered her voice to a whisper. “Don’t even say that word. There’s never been anything like that between Brent and me.”
    His black brows lifted. “No? Didn’t I hear him say you were his secretary?”
    Beneath his black lashes his eyes were alert, amused, and unnerving. The faintest of scents teased her nostrils. A mix of woody cologne, clean clothes, and distilled essence of man. It was annoying how that trifled with her concentration. It nearly threw her off the track of her thoughts.
    “What’s your point? I assure you,” she retorted, pulling