Free Riding West by Emma Wildes Page A

muffled laugh. “No.”
    His lean body relaxed a fraction. “Then what is it?”
    “I love you.”
    Pressed against him, she could feel him go very still. His long fingers tightened around her nape. “What did you just say?”
    “You heard me.” It was a little humiliating to realize she‘d said it before him. In fact, even though he‘d confessed he‘d been in love with her a long time, he had never said it flat out. Celia pulled away and wiped her damp cheeks, giving him a defiant look. “Not that you aren‘t completely irritating in about one thousand ways.”
    She expected him to at least smile, but he simply stood there staring at her.
    “Parker?”
    The sound of his mother‘s voice calling out in question broke through his apparent trance, and he glanced down the hall toward the kitchen. He said in a somewhat uneven tone, “They must have heard us ride up. Come on, sweetheart, we‘d better go on in. I know my family is anxious to welcome you.”
    ———
    The glow of a pipe and the scent of tobacco mingled with the night air. Soft sounds of the insects in the long line of cottonwoods bordering the lane to the house made a backdrop for the distant bark of a coyote. Sitting in a chair next to his father on the long porch as was their habit each evening, Parker said neutrally, “I didn‘t want to discuss it in front of the women, but there could have been real trouble this afternoon.”
    Puffing on his pipe, his father, Russ, exhaled and said succinctly, “So I understand. I never did trust Colter, but that was one hell of a high-handed plan, even for him. Did he think the Evans boys wouldn‘t come after him for ambushing your wedding, or for that matter, I wouldn‘t get my men together and track him down?”
    Somberly, Parker stared over the corrals and neat fences, shadowed in the thin light of a rising moon. “Think about it. His ranch is built like a fortress and would be damned easy to defend. Once he got holed up, especially with Celia inside, anyone would be hard pressed to do much. Unfortunately, if he had managed to forcibly marry her and get her back to his place, he could do whatever he wanted with her—and we both know exactly what that is—and her brothers would have damned little recourse. Legally wedded and bedded, even if it is akin to rape, would brand her as his for the rest of her life, even if she managed to get out of there. He‘d own her, and around here, possession means a lot.”
    His father raised a brow and said dryly, “Luckily, you beat him to it, though I have a feeling that wasn‘t the exact order of things.”
    “It worked, that‘s all I care about. I‘ve finally figured out a very direct, firm approach works best with the former Miss Evans.” Parker grinned.
    “I‘m happy for you, son. Your mother and I both are. She is a fine young woman, though I suspect you aren‘t going to have a calm, uneventful life.” Chuckling and shaking his head, the older man murmured, “She may look like an angel, but she has a lot of fire.”
    Yes, she certainly did. Parker couldn‘t help but think of her wild, flaming passion in bed. Or for that matter, the turbulent look in her blue eyes after she told him she loved him. “She‘s a handful,” he said in rueful agreement, “but I always knew it. I guess I just can‘t help how I feel. There have been times, believe me, when I would have preferred to be head over heels for someone else. Hell, for that matter, Rose is sweet and pretty and utterly docile and we probably would suit each other better, but I‘ve always just regarded her with brotherly affection, whereas Celia…”
    “I understand. There‘s nothing platonic about the way you look at your new bride, Parker, but that‘s how it should be.”
    “Yes, sir.” Parker stood and smiled. “Speaking of which, this is officially my wedding night and as much as I enjoy talking with you—”
    “She‘ll be waiting, I expect.” Even in the gloom, his father‘s eyes