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Authors: Susan Mallery

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BOOK: Dream Wedding: Dream Bride | Dream Groom
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“Cassie warned me it was going to get heavier as we walked, but I didn’t believe her. I see now I was wrong.”

“Sore?” Arizona asked.

“I’ll survive.”

She watched him release his pack as if it weighed nothing. It had to be twice the size of hers, but then he was not only male and stronger, but used to this sort of thing.

The afternoon was warm, but not too hot. She eyed the clear sky. “I thought the Pacific Northwest was known for rain.”

“It is. Looks like we’re going to get lucky.” He hesitated just long enough for her breath to catch. “With the weather.”

“Of course,” she murmured. With the weather. What else? Certainly not with each other. It wasn’t her fault that she found the man wildly attractive. The more she got to know him, the worse it got. It wasn’t enough that he was good-looking. No, he had to be smart, funny and kind as well. She was going to have to be very careful when she wrote her article, or she was going to come off like some teenager with a major crush.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked.

He sat on a fallen log and reached for his backpack. Chloe settled next to him. She had two canteens hanging from her pack. They’d stopped at a rapidly flowing stream about a half hour before and refilled their water supply.

“Here you go.” He handed her two protein bars, a small plastic bag filled with what looked like cut-up dried vegetables and fruit, and an apple.

“Goody, five-star cuisine,” she said as she eyed what was supposed to pass for a meal.

“Don’t wrinkle your nose at me, young lady. There are plenty of vitamins and minerals there, along with enough calories for energy.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Usually she was more difficult to read. Was she so open around him, or could he just see inside of her? “I wasn’t complaining. This is different from what I’m used to. I don’t have your ‘bush’ experience. What with how you grew up and all.”

“It wasn’t like this,” he said as he stretched out his long legs in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. Worn jeans hugged his powerful thighs. “My grandfather didn’t believe in living with physical discomfort. We always traveled first-class.”

“There are a lot of places you can’t get a jet or a limo.”

“True. We used carts and camels, boats, whatever was necessary to get us where he wanted to go. But he arranged for the best. Plenty of staff along to handle the luggage and the details.”

Chloe tried to imagine that kind of life. On one hand, it sounded very exciting, but on the other she would miss having a place to call home.

“Did you like living like that?” she asked.

“I suppose every kid dreams of running away to live a life of adventure. I did that and more. I have experienced things most people just read or dream about. But there were things I missed.”

He stared into the grove of trees, but she knew he was actually seeing a past she could only imagine. How had his world and his life shaped him? What would he have been like if he’d grown up as the boy next door?

“I never had my own room, so I didn’t collect things the way a lot of kids do,” he said. “I didn’t have a lot of friends. In some places there weren’t boys my age around, or if there were, they were busy with school or helping the family. We moved around so much, I would just get to know someone and then it would be time to leave.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” she admitted. “It sounds lonely.”

“Sometimes it was. I had tutors. They were usually with us for a couple of years at a time, so that was something I could depend on.” He shrugged. “Growing up like that is all I know. I can’t pass judgment on it without something to compare it to. I don’t think it was better or worse, just different. I experienced the world from a different point of view. If we planned to settle in one place for a few months, I usually enrolled in the local school.”

He looked at her and grinned. “When I was a teenager I used to complain about not having fast food or high school girls around.”

“So despite everything, you were very normal.”

“I like to think so.” His smile faded. “I always wanted a brother or sister. Someone around my own age to talk to and be with. Grandfather tried, but he wasn’t a peer. I envy you and Cassie for being so close.”

She couldn’t imagine anything in her rather dull life that someone like Arizona would be interested in, but the idea of a sibling made sense.

“She’s my best friend,” she said. “We’re so different, we can’t help arguing sometimes, but none of that really matters. We love each other so much.”

“It shows.” He ripped open the protective covering on one of his protein bars and took a bite. After chewing he asked, “So how are you different?”

She nibbled the dried vegetables and found they tasted better than they looked. “You have to ask? Cassie is a dreamer. She believes in fairy tales and magic.”

“That’s right. And you’re the completely practical one.”

“Exactly. She wants a very traditional life. Husband, children, a home.” She stopped talking and pressed her lips together. A home. The house. That beautiful Victorian house that their parents had left to her instead of leaving it to the two girls equally.

They’d probably been afraid the sisters wouldn’t be able to work out a way to share. No doubt they’d been trying to prevent the house being sold. But their will had reinforced Cassie’s feeling of not truly being a part of the family.

“Is there anything wrong with wanting a traditional life?” Arizona asked.

“No, and it makes sense for her. Cassie just wants to fit in. She wants to have roots.”

“Doesn’t she now?”

“I don’t know that she thinks so.” She shrugged. “It’s complicated. Cassie—” She automatically reached inside the neck of her T-shirt and pulled out the locket she always wore.

Arizona reached over and touched the heart-shaped piece of jewelry. “Connections with the past,” he said. “She has the matching earrings. And her memories. Your parents chose her. Isn’t that enough?”

His dark eyes saw too much, she thought. She felt as if he could look deep down into her soul and that made her nervous. Was she enough for him? Sometimes she didn’t think she was enough for herself, let alone someone else. But then she was used to being confused. It was becoming a constant in her life. She didn’t understand her relationship with Arizona any more than she understood why the man had appeared in her dream. She didn’t know what she wanted from him, what she felt about him, or what he expected from her.

She jerked her thoughts back to their conversation. “I have the house,” she said. “I wish they’d left it to both of us instead of just me.”

“So she would have that connection?” he asked.

She nodded.

He touched the locket again. His knuckle brushed against her throat. A warmth flowed through her, just as it had when he’d taken her hand while they’d been on the trail.

“It’s not the house,” he said. “It’s here.” He placed his fingers against her forehead, then moved them lower, to just above her left breast. “And here. No one can take that away from her. Or you.”

He wasn’t talking about the house anymore, she realized. There was something in his eyes, something dangerous and irresistible. She wanted to lean closer. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her close, making her safe. With Arizona she felt safe…and that had been missing from her life since her parents had been killed.

But instead of leaning toward him, she straightened, putting distance between them. Who was this man who invaded both her dreams and her life? What did he want from her? And how on earth was she supposed to resist him and his power?

CHAPTER EIGHT

S
TARS
FILLED
THE
night sky. Chloe stretched out on her sleeping bag and stared up at the vast expanse of lights above her head. Bradley wasn’t a big town, but it was close enough to Sacramento that the city lights washed out most of the stars, even when the weather didn’t interfere. Or maybe her life had gotten so busy, she didn’t take time to look at the heavens anymore. She would guess most people suffered the same fate. Now, gazing up and admiring the beauty of the stars, she wondered what other wonders filled what she considered her very ordinary life.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Arizona said as he stepped back into camp. He dropped onto his sleeping bag only a few feet from her own.

“I was just thinking that,” she said and tried to ignore the fact that she was going to have to do as he had done and venture out into the wilderness to do her business.

It was bad enough to have to do that during the day when she could see whatever was lurking around, but at night—she would be defenseless. She didn’t want to act all wimpy and girllike, but she couldn’t help picturing herself from a critter’s point of view. A pale white expanse of tempting flesh just hanging there, begging to be bitten or scratched or…

Stop thinking about it, she ordered herself silently. But it was one of the few times she envied men their “equipment” that let them pee standing up.

“So what did you think of dinner?” Arizona asked in a tone that warned her he expected a positive response.

“Great,” she lied cheerfully. “I had been worried that freeze-dried food would taste gritty and odd when it was mixed with boiling water, but I was wrong.”

Actually, it wasn’t a lie. The food at dinner had easily been worse than she’d imagined.

“I liked it, too,” he said. “Beats grubs any day.”

She dismissed him with a wave. “You didn’t eat grubs. This afternoon you said your grandfather liked to travel in style. I’m sure he brought along a chef to cook his favorite dishes.”

“You’re right.” His teeth flashed white in the light of the campfire.

“I figured. You thought dinner was pretty gross, didn’t you?”

“Wretched comes to mind. I think they forgot to cook the rice before packaging it. Tell you what. When we get back to civilization, I’ll take you out for a fancy dinner.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Their gazes locked. Despite the few feet between them, she felt his heat. She was in trouble now.

She forced her gaze away and returned her attention to the stars. “Do you know anything about the constellations?” she asked, hoping he would go along with the change in subject.

“I do now because I’ve studied them, but when I was a kid, I would make up stories. Sometimes the village elders would tell me what the different stars represented. I learned that all different cultures have their own view of what the heavens mean. I suppose some of that is because the sky looks different in different places.”

Chloe told herself she should dig out her tape recorder and turn it on. But she didn’t want to break the mood. Besides, she wasn’t having trouble remembering anything Arizona said to her. She didn’t even have to close her eyes to hear his voice in her head.

“The changing stars can tell about the coming seasons. The harvest sky is different from the planting sky.”

He continued talking. She listened to the words and wrapped herself in the stories he wove. He was so different from anyone she’d ever known. And yet the heart of him was familiar to her. Was it the dream? Was it her imagination, trying to create a connection so she could pretend her attraction had some basis in emotion and not just in physical awareness? But it was more, she reminded herself. She didn’t just want him…she actually liked him.

There hadn’t been many men in her life. Normally she didn’t make time for them. She didn’t want all the bother of trusting someone only to have him let her down.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

She inhaled deeply and smelled the wood smoke from their fire, along with the lush scent of the forest growth. “That for me, the sky is always constant. The stars might change with the time of year, but I’ve never seen a different sky. I’ve just realized that’s the perfect metaphor for the differences between us.”

“Is that bad?” he asked.

“No, it’s a fact that we can’t change, but I don’t think it’s a value judgment. We don’t have anything in common.”

“I would disagree with that.”

She turned to face him. In the darkness of the night, his body was little more than murky shadow. “I’m surprised you’d think that.”

“Why? We’re both intelligent, curious about our world. We both ask questions. We laugh at the same things. We’re very much alike.”

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” she admitted. “I was more focused on our life experiences. For example, the first day of school. I was a very mature five and a half, while Cassie hadn’t quite turned five. My mother bought us matching dresses, but in different colors. I’ve seen the pictures and we were too adorable for words.”

Arizona smiled. “I’ll bet.”

“Bradley Elementary,” she continued. “It’s built on the site of the original Bradley schoolhouse, founded by my family back in the late 1800s. There’s even a plaque by the auditorium. I don’t think your first day of school was anything like that.”

“You’d be right.” He closed his eyes for a minute, then opened them. “I was in Africa and I attended a tribal school. Interesting, but not educational. I didn’t speak much of the language. That afternoon my grandfather started making arrangements for me to have tutors.”

“That’s my point,” she said. “Different experiences.”

“Even if I’d been living in the States, I don’t think I would have been in a matching dress.”

She laughed. “Probably not.”

He propped his head on his hand. “Tell me about your first kiss.”

“Oh my. First kiss. I was fourteen, I think. At a girlfriend’s birthday party. Also my first boy-girl party. We were playing Spin the Bottle. His name was Adam. He was shorter than me, but very cute. All the girls had a crush on him. It was brief and not very romantic, but I hugged the memory close for months. And you?”

“Penelope. We were both twelve and in Cairo. Her father was a peer of the realm, but don’t ask me his title. I don’t remember. He was in the British embassy. Penny and I met at a very dull party where we were the only children. I remember it was hot and she smelled like roses.”

Chloe flopped onto her back. “You had your first kiss in Egypt and I had mine in Cynthia Greenway’s basement. What is wrong with this picture?”

“Nothing.”

“Easy for you to say. Next you’ll be telling me that your first lover was some fabulously beautiful courtesan arranged for you by your grandfather. That she was a Christmas present.”

Arizona was silent.

Chloe sucked in a breath, turned back toward him and stared. “You’re kidding?”

He cleared his throat. “Actually, it was a birthday present, and courtesan is a strong term. She was experienced.”

“How polite. And you were all of sixteen?”

“Seventeen.”

“I’ll bet you had a really good time.”

“I did. I was young and at the time I didn’t know there was a difference between having sex and making love. She taught me a lot about mechanics but nothing about the heart.”

Chloe was grateful for the darkness. At least Arizona wouldn’t be able to see her stunned expression. She didn’t consider herself a prude, but apparently she was. This was too far out of her realm of experience. She didn’t know what to say.

“You’re shocked,” Arizona said.

“A little. That sort of thing doesn’t happen in Bradley.”

“What does happen?”

“Are you asking about my first lover?”

“Yes.”

She sat up and pulled her knees into her chest. “I haven’t thought about Billy in a long time.” Mostly because she didn’t let herself think about him.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you’d rather not.”

“No, I don’t mind.” Actually, she didn’t, which surprised her. Maybe enough time had passed. Maybe she’d finally healed.

“When my parents died,” she began, “Cassie and I were sent into foster care. She stayed in Bradley, but I was sent to a family in a neighboring town. They had a son, Billy. He was a couple of years older than me. The first few months I stayed in my room and kept to myself. I’d lost my parents and Cassie. We wrote and saw each other when we could, but it was different. We didn’t feel like sisters anymore.”

“How was the family you were with?”

“They were very kind to me. They tried to understand what I was going through. They gave me time. Eventually I started participating in family events. One day I looked up at the dinner table and realized Billy was sitting across from me. He smiled and I smiled back. A few pieces of my broken heart mended at that moment.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“It was fairly typical. We went on dates, then started going steady.”

“Did his parents know?”

“Yes. We tried to keep it from them for a while, but we weren’t very good at sneaking around. I think the first time Billy and I made love was in the back seat of his car.” She smiled at the memory. “It wasn’t very comfortable.”

“The car or the act itself.”

“Both. We didn’t know what we were doing. It was quick. The sex itself was always much more for him than me. I liked the holding and being close. It didn’t matter if it was physically satisfying because I loved him, so it was perfect.”

“I’m sure it got better.”

She smiled. “Not much.” Her smile faded. “We weren’t together long enough for us to get really good at it.”

She didn’t want to think about that, she reminded herself. So instead she recalled what it had been like to be with Billy. He’d been so attentive and eager—both for her and to please her. He’d always touched her as if she were the most precious creature alive. Perhaps to him, she had been.

But the sex itself hadn’t moved her. Perhaps she’d been too young, or they’d been too inexperienced. She’d never felt that ultimate pleasure, either with him, or the two young men she’d been intimate with during college. It was a sad state of affairs that the best it had ever been had been in a dream…with the man just a few feet away from her.

“So Billy was your first boyfriend and your first lover,” Arizona said. “Were you in love with him?”

“Yes. Deeply. He stole my heart and I’ve never been sure I got all the pieces back from him.”

Arizona pushed himself up into a sitting position. They faced each other. “So you believe in love, but you won’t believe in anything magical or mystical.”

“They’re not the same. I’ve experienced love.” She might have experienced magic—in the form of her dream—but she wasn’t ready to admit that to him.

“I don’t,” he said flatly.

It was the second time that night that he’d stunned her into silence. He’d mentioned it before but she hadn’t really believed him. Everyone had to believe in love. Her mind raced, but she couldn’t form any words. Finally she managed to blurt out, “How is that possible? What about all the weird stuff you research? You’ll put your faith in a rock or a story, but not in the depth of human emotion?”

“Exactly.”

“Are we talking about romantic love or all of it? What about parents caring for their children. Most would die for them. Isn’t that a demonstration of love?”

“Yes. I would agree that many parents have strong feelings for their children. In most cases I would be willing to call that love.”

His careful qualification of his answer made her curious, so she filed that information away to ask about another time. She didn’t want to get away from what they were already talking about.

“So it’s just the issue of romantic love you have problems with,” she said.

He nodded.

She was still having trouble believing this conversation. Arizona believed in things she couldn’t even begin to understand, but not love. But love was a fundamental part of the human condition.

“What are you so afraid of?” she asked.

He leaned toward her. “Do
you
believe in love between a man and a woman?”

“Of course. I plan to avoid it, but I know it exists. I’ve experienced it.”

“With Billy?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone else?”

She shook her head.

“So why do you want to avoid loving a man?”

She struggled to find the words to answer his question. “If you don’t get close, you can’t get hurt. So I avoid getting close.”

His face was in shadow. She didn’t know what he was thinking about. But she anticipated what he would ask next and braced herself for the pain.

“How did Billy hurt you?”

“He betrayed me.”

“With another woman?”

If only it had been that simple. “He died.” She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them closer to her chest. “It all gets twisted in my brain and I can’t figure out what happened when.”

She drew in a deep breath. “I went into the foster home when I was nearly fifteen. Billy and I began dating toward the end of my sophomore year of high school. The next fall, he started getting sick. It took the doctors a while to figure out that he had leukemia. He fought it for a long time. They used drugs and chemotherapy. He was in and out of the hospital. He promised to love me forever. He promised to get better. I believed him because I couldn’t face the alternative. Then one day, he died.”

She closed her eyes against the memories, but that didn’t help. Her throat tightened. “I know he didn’t die when my parents did. If he had, he and I wouldn’t have met. But that’s how I remember it. My parents dying, then Billy. All the time he was suffering and slipping away all I wanted was my family. My parents. If they couldn’t be there, I needed my sister with me.”

She felt the tears on her cheeks. How long had it been since she’d cried over Billy? “I used to pray every night that he would get better, that the lawyer would find Aunt Charity so Cassie and I could be together again. It didn’t help. Billy passed away in October of my senior year of high school. He was all of nineteen. I was seventeen. Aunt Charity showed up four months later. Four months too late in my mind.”

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