Seducing the Bridesmaid (Wedding Dare, #3)
Katee Robert
To Tim. This one’s for you, babe.
Chapter One
Brock McNeill had never been all that good at turning down trouble. And the brunette leaving Spago right now had trouble written all over her.
He should just let her go. After all, the only reason he was at Beaver Creek Resort in the first place was because of his childhood friend’s wedding. He was here to support Colton—not to cozy up to any of the bridesmaids.
Especially this bridesmaid.
Regan Wakefield, sorority sister to the bride, headhunter, and wearer of six-inch heels. At dinner, she’d stood out among the other women like a bird of paradise among swans. And there was something there. Something about how she held herself aloof even when drinking and chatting with her friends, her eyes taking in everything around her. It didn’t help that she had the kind of beauty that could bring a man to his knees—or that she seemed to know it.
Damn it, he couldn’t just let her walk back to the hotel alone.
Brock threw back the rest of his drink and dropped a twenty on the bar. He pushed through the exterior door and looked around. She was already fifty yards down the paved path, her heels clicking as she strolled through the night. He’d figured those torture devices on her feet would slow her down. Apparently he’d been wrong.
“Wait up.” She didn’t even look over her shoulder, so he picked up his pace, mentally cursing the stupid dress shoes pinching his toes. “Regan.”
If he hadn’t been watching her so closely, he wouldn’t have noticed the way her shoulders tightened up. She turned, raked him with a single glance, and kept going. “Sorry, but my granny told me not to talk to strangers.”
“I’m not a stranger.” He finally came even with her and slowed down to match her walk.
She flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “You’re not?” She snapped her fingers. “Oh wait, aren’t you that guy—”
“You know damn well who I am.” He and the other groomsmen had had drinks in the same damn bar as the bridesmaids last night, and they’d all been at dinner tonight. This woman, of all people, wasn’t going to forget a face. He smiled at her, turning on the charm.
She laughed, glanced back at his face, and laughed harder. “Oh my God.”
What the f*ck? Did he have spinach in his teeth? Brock resisted the urge to cover his mouth, but only barely. He waited as they kept walking, but she didn’t stop laughing. Christ, what was the deal with this woman? “What’s so funny?”
She finally managed to contain her mirth, though her dark eyes still danced. “You.” She waved her hand at his entire body. “Turning on the Southern panty-dropper charm. It’s adorable.”
Adorable. He’d been called a lot of things in his life—charming, gorgeous, a f*ckup—but never that. Grown men were not adorable. Puppies were adorable. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. I bet you practice that smile in the mirror.”
She thought she had his number down. It stung more than it should because he did pride himself on his charm. “Naw, darlin’. I’m all natural.”
“That’s what they all say. Run along now. I don’t have time for you.”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so thoroughly dismissed, though Brock could bet it was his father who’d done it. “That’s going to be a problem.”
She didn’t look at him. “How so?”
“In the South, we don’t let women wander alone at night. It’s dangerous. I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”
“You don’t let women wander alone, huh? God forbid one of those belles escapes her caretaker.” She clutched her hands to her chest and affected a pretty damn good accent. “Alone? With no strong man to protect me? Whatever shall I do?”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“How do I know it? I’m not a mind reader, and I don’t need some strapping man to walk me the hundred yards from here to the hotel when I’m in a damn resort. I live in New York. There’s nothing out here that can compare to that.”
“That makes sense.”
As expected, she gave him a suspicious look. “You’re being awfully agreeable all of a sudden.”
He kept his smile in place and went in for the kill. “Only because you’re the scariest thing within twenty miles.”
She flinched, but recovered almost immediately. “Maybe you’re smarter than I thought.”
“And you’re sneakier than I expected. Want to tell me what that key switch you pulled last night was all about?” His friend Reed had looked pretty damn shell-shocked this morning so he suspected Regan’s plan had been successful. “Some kind of friend you are, sending that nice Southern girl to the wrong room.”
She shrugged. “She had her sights set on the wrong man.”
The sheer size of the balls on this woman blew him away. “How is that any of your damn business? That was some sneaky shit and you know it.”
“She’s my friend and I want to see her happy.” She picked up her pace, but he kept up easily. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to see my friends happy.”