Runaway Temptation Page 2

  Jared’s father, Simon, was no better, making innuendoes that he probably thought were clever but gave Shelby the outright creeps. The only bright spot in the Goodman family was Jared’s sister, Brooke, and she couldn’t help Shelby with what was about to happen.

  Somehow, she had completely lost control of her own life and now she stood there in a mountain of tulle trying to find enough scraps of who she was to cling to.

  “Once the ceremony is finished, we’ll all go straightaway to the reception,” Margaret was saying.

  Oh, God.

  “You and Jared will, of course, be in the receiving line until every guest has been welcomed personally. The photographer can then indulge in the necessary photos for precisely fifteen minutes, after which you and Jared will reenter the reception for the ceremonial first toast.” Margaret paused long enough to glance into the mirror herself and smooth hair that wouldn’t dare fall out of place. “Mr. Goodman is an important man and as his family we will do all we can to support him. Is that understood?” Her gaze, hard and cold, shot to Shelby’s. “When you’ve returned from your honeymoon...”

  Her stomach sank even further. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see it simply drop out of her body and fall splat onto the floor. Her day was scheduled. Her honeymoon was scheduled and she had no doubt at all that her life would be carefully laid out for her, complete with bullet points.

  How had it all come to this?

  For their honeymoon, Shelby had wanted to see Paris. Instead, Jared’s mother had insisted they go to Philadelphia so Shelby could be introduced to the eastern branch of the Goodman family. And much to her dismay, Jared was simply doing as he was told with no regard at all for Shelby. He’d changed so much since coming back to Texas that she hardly recognized the man anymore.

  Margaret was still talking. Fixing a steely gaze on the mirror, she met Shelby’s eyes. “When you return to Texas, you will of course give up your ridiculous business and be the kind of wife to Jared that will enable him to further his own law career.”

  “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “You’ll be a Goodman,” Margaret snapped, brooking no argument.

  Shelby swallowed hard. When they’d met in Chicago, Jared had talked about his ranch in Texas. He’d let her believe that he was a cowboy who happened to also have a law degree. And yes, she could admit that the fantasy of being with a cowboy had really appealed to her. But mostly, he’d talked about their having a family and that had sealed the deal for Shelby.

  She’d told herself then that she could move her professional organizer business anywhere. But from the moment Jared had introduced her to his family, Margaret had made it clear that her “little business” was hardly appropriate.

  Shelby met her own eyes in the mirror and read the desperation there. Maybe all of this would be easier to take if she was madly in love with Jared. But the truth was, she’d fooled herself from the beginning. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. The romance, the excitement, had all worn off, like the luster of sterling silver as soon as it was tarnished. Rather than standing up for himself, Jared was completely cowed by his family and that really didn’t bode well for Shelby’s future.

  Margaret checked the slim gold watch on her wrist, clucked her tongue and headed for the door. “The music will begin in exactly five minutes.” She stopped, glanced over her shoulder and added, “My husband will be here to escort you down the aisle since you don’t have a father of your own.”

  Shelby’s mouth dropped open as the other woman left the room. Stunned, she realized Margaret had tossed that last bit with venom, as if Shelby had arranged for her father to die ten years ago just so he could disrupt Margaret Goodman’s wedding scenario.

  She shivered at the thought of Simon Goodman. She didn’t want him anywhere near her, let alone escorting her, touching her. And even worse, she was about to promise to be in Simon’s family for the rest of her life.

  “Nope, can’t do it.” She glanced at her own reflection and in a burst of fury ripped her veil off her face. Then, blowing a stray auburn lock from her forehead, she gathered up the skirt of the voluminous gown in both arms.

  “Have to hurry,” she muttered, giving herself the impetus she needed to make a break for it before it was too late. If she didn’t leave now, she’d be married into the most awful family she’d ever known.

  “Not going to happen,” she reassured herself as she tentatively opened the door and peered out.

  Thankfully, there was no one in this section of the TCC. They were all in the main room, waiting for the ceremony to start. In the distance, she heard the soft thrum of harp music playing as an underscore to the rise and fall of conversations. She could only guess what they’d all be talking about soon.

  That wasn’t her problem, though. Clutching her wedding gown high enough to keep it out of her way, she hurried down the hall and toward the nearest exit.

  She thought she heard someone calling her name, but Shelby didn’t let that stop her. She hit the front door and started running. It was blind panic that kept her moving. After all, she had nowhere to go. She didn’t know hardly anyone in Royal besides the Goodman family. But she kept moving because the unknown was wildly better than the alternative.

  Her veil caught on one of the porch posts and yanked her back briefly. But Shelby ripped the stupid thing off her head, tiara and all, and tossed it to the ground. Then she was off again, tearing around a corner and running smack into a brick wall.

  Well, that’s what it felt like.

  A tall, gorgeous brick wall who grabbed her upper arms to steady her, then smiled down at her with humor in his eyes. He had enough sex appeal to light up the city of Houston and the heat from his hands, sliding down her body, made everything inside her jolt into life.

  “Aren’t you headed the wrong way?” he asked, and the soft drawl in his deep voice awakened a single thought in her mind.

  Oh, boy.

  Two

  A real cowboy.

  Shelby tipped her head back to look up at him and caught the flash of surprise in his gaze as he reached out to steady her. Ridiculously enough, considering the situation—running away from her own wedding—she felt a hot blast of something...amazing.

  The cowboy had shaggy light brown hair, icy-blue eyes, a strong jaw and a gray cowboy hat tipped down low on his forehead. He wore a black suit, crisp white shirt with a dove-gray tie and oh, sweet mama Lou, shining black cowboy boots. His hands were strong and warm on her upper arms and a slow smile curved his mouth as he took in what she was wearing.

  And the soft drawl in his deep voice really worked for her. He was everything Jared wasn’t. Although, even as she thought it, Shelby reminded herself that her judgment had been so crappy about Jared that she could be just as wrong about Mr. Tall, Dark and Yummy.

  “Hey now,” he said, that deep voice rolling along her spine again. “Are you all right?”

  “Absolutely not,” she said firmly. The humor in his eyes was gone, replaced by concern and she responded to it. “I have to get out of here. Now. Can you help me?”

  His eyes narrowed on her and his delectable mouth moved into a grim slash. “You’re running out on your wedding?”

  Disapproval practically radiated from him and Shelby’s spine went stiff as a board in reaction. “Just as fast as I can,” she said. “Can you help me?”

  Before he could say yes or no, another voice erupted behind her.

  “Shelby! What the devil do you think you’re doing?”

  Spinning around until the cowboy was at her back, Shelby watched as Margaret Goodman stalked toward her, fire in her eyes. “Your guests are waiting.”

  “They’re not my guests,” Shelby said. Heck, the only people she knew in Royal was the family she was supposed to marry into and frankly, if they were the best this town had to offer, she was ready to run back to Chicago.


  “Of course they are.” Margaret waved her hand impatiently, dismissing Shelby’s argument. “Don’t be foolish.”

  Shelby moved back until she felt the cowboy’s tall, strong body press up against hers. Cowardly? Maybe, but she’d live with it. Right now, this tall, exceptionally well-built man was the safest spot she could find.

  Margaret’s gaze snapped to the cowboy. “Caleb, bring her along inside right this minute.”

  Caleb. His name was Caleb. For a second, Shelby worried that he might do just that. After all, he didn’t know her and the Goodman family, as they kept telling her, were a big deal here in Royal. Maybe he wasn’t the safe harbor she’d thought he was.

  Then the cowboy stepped out from behind her and moved to partially block Shelby from the woman glaring at her. While Shelby watched, he tipped his hat and said, “I don’t take orders from you, Mrs. Goodman.”

  Margaret inhaled through her nose and if she could have set the cowboy on fire, she clearly would have. “Fine. Please bring her along inside. The wedding is about to start.”

  “Well now,” Caleb said slowly, that deep drawl caressing every word, “I don’t believe the lady wants to go back inside.”

  “No,” Shelby said, exhaling in a rush. “I do not.”

  “There you go. She sounds pretty sure,” Caleb said, shrugging as if he couldn’t have cared less which way this confrontation turned out.

  “Well, I’m sure, too.” Margaret took a menacing step forward. “This woman is engaged to my son, God help me.”

  Insulted, Shelby frowned, but the older woman kept going.

  “We have a club full of people waiting for the ceremony to begin and the Goodman family has a reputation to uphold in Royal. I refuse to allow some city tramp to ruin it.”

  “Tramp?” Okay, now she was more sure than ever that running had been the right thing to do. The very idea of having to deal with this woman as a relative for the rest of her life gave her cold chills.

  Shelby took a step toward the woman with the plan to tell Margaret exactly what she thought of her. But the cowboy alongside her grabbed her arm to hold her in place.

  “That’s enough, Margaret,” he said quietly.

  “It’s not nearly enough.” Margaret fired a hard look at the cowboy before shifting her gaze back to Shelby. “You stay out of this, Caleb Mackenzie. This has nothing to do with you.”

  Though the urge to stand here and have it out with this appalling woman was so strong Shelby was almost quivering, she knew it would be a waste of time. And, since the most important thing was to escape before any more Goodmans showed up, she turned her head to stare up at the man beside her.

  “Can you get me out of here?” Shelby asked, staring up into those cool, blue eyes.

  “What?” Ignoring Margaret, the man looked at her as if he hadn’t heard her right.

  “Take me somewhere,” she blurted, and didn’t even think about the fact that she didn’t know this man. Right now it was enough that Margaret clearly couldn’t stand him. The enemy of my enemy, and all that.

  “You want me to help you run out on the man waiting for you at the altar?”

  “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds terrible,” Shelby admitted, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

  “What other way is there to put it?”

  “Okay fine. I’m a terrible human being,” she whispered frantically as Margaret heaped curses on her head. “And I’ll apologize to Jared later. But right now...”

  Caleb stared down at her as if trying to see inside her. And Shelby was grateful that he couldn’t. Because right now, her insides were tangled up into so many knots she’d probably look like a crazy person. Heck, she felt like a crazy person. One that had just made a break from the asylum and was now looking for a ride back to sanity.

  Hitching the yards of tulle higher in her arms, Shelby murmured, “Margaret said your name’s Caleb, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  God, his voice was so deep it seemed to echo out around her. His blue eyes were focused on her and Shelby felt a flutter of something she’d never felt for the man she’d almost married. Probably not a good thing. “Look, I don’t have much time. If you can’t help me, I need to find someone else. Fast.” She took a breath and blew it out again. “So. Are you going to help me, Caleb?”

  One corner of his mouth lifted briefly. “What’s your name?”

  “Shelby,” she said, mesmerized by the motion of that mouth. “Shelby Arthur.”

  “I’m Caleb Mackenzie,” he said. “My truck’s over there.”

  He jerked his head toward a big, top-of-the-line black pickup that shone like midnight, its chrome bumpers glittering in the sun. At that moment, the huge black truck looked like a magical carriage there to transport her away from a nightmare. Shelby sighed in relief and practically sprinted for it.

  “Where are you going?” Margaret’s voice, loud, desperate, followed her. “You can’t leave! What will people think?”

  “Whatever the hell they want to,” Caleb tossed over his shoulder. “Just like always.”

  He opened the passenger door and helped Shelby to climb in. “We have to hurry,” she said, throwing frantic looks at the building behind them.

  “It’d be easier if you didn’t have so damn much dress,” he muttered, grabbing a fistful of the material and stuffing it into the truck.

  “Never mind the dress,” she said, staring down at him. She was doing it. Getting away. But she wasn’t gone yet. Grabbing at the dress, she shoved it between her knees and then ignored the rest of the hot mess gown still hanging down the side of the truck. “Just get in and drive.”

  He looked up at her and again, Shelby felt that rush of something hot and unexpected. That was just too weird. A few minutes ago, she’d been set to marry another man and now she was getting all warm and shivery for a cowboy in shining armor? What was wrong with her?

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “You’re the boss.” Then he slammed the truck door, leaving a couple of feet of dress hanging out beneath the bottom.

  Shelby didn’t care. All she wanted was to get away. To feel free. She pushed her hair out of her face as it slipped from the intricate knots it had been wound into. While Caleb walked around the front of the truck, she stared out the window at the woman still cursing her. Shelby had the oddest desire to wave goodbye and smile. But she didn’t. Instead, she looked away from her would-be mother-in-law and when Caleb climbed into the truck and fired it up, she took her first easy breath. When he threw it into gear and drove from the parking lot, Shelby laughed at the wild release pumping through her.

  He glanced at her. “Are you crazy?”

  She shook her head and grinned. “Not anymore. I think I’m cured.”

  * * *

  Caleb told himself that if she wasn’t crazy herself, she was probably a carrier. How else did he explain why he was driving down the long, nearly empty road toward his ranch with a runaway bride sitting beside him?

  Two words repeated in his brain. Runaway bride. Hell, he was helping do to Jared what Mitch and Meg had done to him four years ago. Was this some kind of backward Karma?

  Caleb shot a sideways look at his passenger. The dress was god-awful, but it was fitted to her body like a damn glove. Her high, full breasts were outlined behind yet another layer of lace. The high neck only made a man wonder what was being hidden. Long sleeves caressed her arms and a damn mountain of white net poofed out around her body even while she fought it down.

  Her face was pale, making the handful of freckles across her nose stand out like firelight in a snowstorm. While he watched, she rolled down the window and her hair was suddenly a wild tangle of dark red curls flying in the wind.

  She closed her eyes, smiled into the wind, then turned to look at him and smiled even wider. “Thanks for the rescue.”

  Yeah. He�
��d rescued her and helped to humiliate Jared, just as he himself had once been. Caleb didn’t much care for Jared Goodman, but that didn’t make what he’d done any easier to take.

  “Why’d you wait to run?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Why wait until the last damn minute to change your mind?”

  “Good question.” She sighed, pushed her hair back, then propped her elbow on the door. “I kept thinking it would get better, I guess. Instead, it just got worse.”

  He could understand that. It was the Goodmans, after all.

  “And you couldn’t leave before today?”

  She looked at him and frowned. “I could have. But I gave my word. I said I’d marry Jared—”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “Couldn’t,” she corrected, shaking her head. “Staring at myself in the mirror, wearing this hideous dress, listening to Margaret tell me about the honeymoon plans she made...” Her voice died off and it was a few seconds before she spoke again. “It finally hit me that I just couldn’t go through with it. So I ran. I suppose you think that’s cowardly.”

  “Well...”

  She shifted in her seat, hiking all of that white fabric higher until it was above her knees, displaying a pair of long, tanned legs. When she stopped just past her knees, Caleb was more than a little disappointed.

  He looked back at the road. Way safer than looking at her.

  “You’re wrong,” she said. “It took more strength to run than it would have to stay.”

  Frowning to himself, Caleb thought about that for a minute. Was it possible she had a point?

  She threw both hands up, the fabric spilled off her lap to the floor and she muttered a curse as she gathered it all up again to hold on her lap. Caleb spared another quick look at her long, tanned legs, then told himself to keep his eyes on the road.

  “Honestly,” she said, “I could have gone through with it and not been called a ‘tramp.’ I could have stayed, knowing that I didn’t really love Jared after all, but going through with the wedding to avoid the embarrassment. But it wasn’t right for me or fair to Jared for me to marry him knowing I didn’t want to be married, especially to him, you know what I mean?”