Take a Chance on Me(8)

Damn, he’d always been good at crafting a compelling argument. He smiled. “Do I need to carry you?”

“You have no idea how much I want to say yes.” She pulled away, standing straight. Mitch wanted to snatch her back, but resisted when she squared her small shoulders. “But I’ve already pissed off the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost today. It might be best not to push my luck.”

A deep rumble of laughter shook his chest. With one finger, he tilted her chin. “Let me guess, you’re Catholic?”

Her expression went wide. “Hey, how’d you know?”

She had no clue how irresistible she was. He tucked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. “Just a wild stab in the dark, Princess.”






Chapter Three



The whiskey and Mitch’s intoxicating scent made Maddie’s head spin.

She placed a hand on her forehead, closing her eyes for a moment and hoping to get her bearings. What was she doing alone in some decrepit back office with a man she hardly knew? Obviously, her sanity had escaped with her out the church window and run off in another direction.

The right thing would have been to say, “No, absolutely not.” The proper thing would have been to call a cab, thank him for his hospitality and excellent flirting, and be on her way. She would have done all those things, too, except his big, capable hands had stroked over her skin and she’d forgotten about anything other than how strong and safe he felt. When those burnished-gold eyes peered into hers, warming her, hell had simply seemed worth it.

She shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy tan couch. The office décor was a messy mishmash of thrown-together thrift-store rejects, and the uncomfortable sofa fit right in. She squirmed, settling when she finally found a spot without a spring gouging her backside. She folded her hands in her lap.

Was she really doing anything wrong? She was resting. That was all.

It wasn’t like she’d agreed to hot, dirty sex.

Mitch moved, drawing her attention. In the yellow glow of a lamp that looked as though it had been taken from a Dumpster, she watched him as he arranged heaps of the wedding dress, which was overflowing into every inch of available space.

When he’d first confessed his former profession and Ivy League education, she’d been shocked. After all, how could she have guessed when he looked like some rogue golden god crossed with a Hell’s Angel? But now, watching him unobserved, she saw hints of his past in his strong features, caught a glimpse in the hard set of his jaw.

Since investigating the mystery of Mitch was far more intriguing than delving into the motives that had made her climb out a church window, she asked, “What kind of lawyer were you?”

His expression flickered, and Maddie didn’t miss the whitening of knuckles on the fistful of satin he held. The lines around his mouth tightened before his lips curled into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I was a criminal defense lawyer.”

Yes, she had no problem picturing him in front of a jury. He had the powerful presence, intensity, and charm to command a courtroom. Treading lightly, she said in an easy tone, “That must have been exciting.”

With the skirts of her dress still clutched in his grip, he shrugged. “I defended rich, powerful *s and sent them back into society. There wasn’t anything exciting about it.”

Rich, powerful clients tended to produce rich, powerful attorneys, and a million questions sprang to mind. As curious as she was, his past was plainly a bitter subject, and Maddie decided to drop it. It wasn’t any of her business. Besides, if she pressed, he might press back, and the last thing she wanted was to explain what she didn’t herself understand. She nodded at the dress. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said, almost absently. Then his gaze flicked to her. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I hate it. If I had anything else to wear, I’d burn it.”

Confusion replaced the tension in his features as the white fabric fell from his now relaxed grip. “If you hate it, then why did you pick it?”

The day in the bridal shop came back to her with a fresh stab of resentment that surprised her. She’d stood on a round platform, head over heels in love with a white satin slip dress that slid deliciously over her body. Her best friends, Penelope and Sophie, had gushed excitedly behind her. It had been “the one.” Captivated by her image, she’d been sold. Then she’d glanced in the mirror. There’d been disapproval on the faces of her mom and Steve, and all her excitement deflated. She’d stepped off the platform and quietly gone back to the dressing room, resigned to pick their favorite. In the end, there’d been no other choice. She’d owed them too much to disappoint them.

Throat clogging, she shook away the memory. She was in the dangerous limbo phase of her buzz, where emotions threatened to rise and take over. She wouldn’t think about that anymore. Besides, it didn’t matter now.

She plastered a smile on her face and waved a hand at Mitch. “Haven’t you heard? Brides are crazy.”

His eyes narrowed, and the set of his jaw made it clear he didn’t buy her dismissal. “Want to talk about it?”

“Nope.” She looked over his shoulder, away from him. It was odd. She’d been praying for someone to notice her distress, to see her, but as Mitch Riley watched her with those intense, knowing eyes, she wished she could curl into a ball and disappear.