Still studying her, Will put a hand on the top of the coupe. Understanding glimmered in his blue eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he soothed. “Staying is the right thing to do.”
Maybe being part of the wedding, giving Howard one last chance to make amends, was the right thing to do, Samantha conceded reluctantly. However, continuing to bunk with Will McCabe…well, that was something else entirely. That was courting trouble. He seemed to know it, too.
With effort, Samantha directed her thoughts away from his tantalizing presence and back to the conversation at hand. Just because he had the broadest shoulders and buffest chest she had ever seen—not to mention an Olympic quality lower half—did not mean she had to succumb to temptation.
“The right thing for whom?” she demanded.
“All of you,” Will told her. “Like I mentioned earlier, family’s important.”
Samantha knew that; it was Howard who hadn’t. Until now, anyway. It ticked her off that her brother had turned the tables on her, and was now insisting on having what she had so desperately wanted—and given up on ever having.
She crossed her arms and leaned against the open car door. Her heart was beating too fast again, and it was Will’s fault. “I don’t trust that Howard’s not going to hurt me again as soon as this wedding of his is over.”
Will rested his hands on her shoulders. “I know him, and I have to tell you that is very unlikely. But even if he tried, Molly would never allow it.”
Samantha couldn’t disagree with that—Molly was genuine to the core.
Silence fell.
Samantha regarded Will cynically. As much as she would like to let him become her confidant, her protective instincts were warning her against it. Will had made no effort to hide his allegiance to her brother. As kind as he was being to her right now, he was every bit as intent on changing her attitude as Howard was. And for so many reasons, that couldn’t happen.
Her momentary desire to cooperate faded as fast as it had appeared. She forced herself to harden her heart. “You knew my brother was getting married this week when you came to get me yesterday.”
Will dropped his hands. “It’s not exactly a secret.”
“You knew he wanted me down here to participate in the ceremony,” she accused, feeling more deceived than ever.
She’d gotten used to tending only to her own needs. Will—and Howard and Molly—were trying to bring her out of her shell. She didn’t want to complicate her life that way, didn’t want to risk being hurt, deserted or betrayed.
He rubbed his jaw contemplatively. “So…?”
Heat rose into her face. “So why didn’t you tell me that at the outset?” Samantha demanded, even more upset.
“You wouldn’t have come if you’d known he and Molly were going to put you on the spot like that,” he stated simply.
“You’re darn right I wouldn’t have.” Samantha dragged the toe of her Italian leather shoe across the paved driveway, no more eager to leave the premises, and end their postbreakfast tête-à-tête, than he apparently was.
“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t forewarn you.” He gave her a wink. “Isn’t it?”
Samantha ignored his attempt to tease her back into good humor. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she groused, feeling all the more hot and uncomfortable in clothing that had been designed for an East Coast spring. “I don’t have clothes for a week of festivities.”
Will checked out her breasts, waist, hips and legs, as if trying to assess her measurements. Imagining what it would be like if he was actually touching instead of just looking, Samantha felt warmth radiate through her. Was it hot out here in the morning sun, or what?
He stepped close enough so she could feel his body heat and breathe in the brisk, masculine fragrance of his cologne. “You could borrow some,” he suggested in a low voice. “I’ve got some sisters-in-law that are about your size. I’m sure they’d be glad to lend you anything you need.”
Samantha stiffened. If everyone in Laramie, Texas, was this hospitable, it was going to be hard as heck to leave. Determined not to let him see how much his nearness was affecting her, she lifted a brow.
“I’d rather not be indebted to anyone else here,” she said stiffly. Especially since she’d have no way of returning the favor.
Will rocked back on his heels and sent her a flirtatious look that upended her equilibrium even further. “Well, then, buying is an option, too,” he drawled. “My brother Lewis’s wife, Lexie Remington, designs clothes for young women. Her clothing line is in department stores all over the country now, but she has lots of samples at her design studio that she sells cheaply to locals. All you have to do is make an appointment to go in and see what she has.”
Aware that Will was systematically chipping away at her resistance, Samantha wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s not the point.”
Although the chance to shop at up-and-coming Lexie Reminton’s design studio was not to be missed. Samantha already owned a few of her pieces—she’d bought them at Bloomingdale’s in Manhattan.
“Then what is the point?” he asked.
Not sure when she had felt so off-kilter and aroused all at once, Samantha finally confessed. “I’ll go stir-crazy, hanging out here until the wedding.” She was used to the hustle and bustle of the city, the anonymity.
“Hey.” Will assumed the boldly aggressive stance of a determined salesperson. “You’ve got plenty to do, besides fulfilling your duties as maid of honor.”
“Like what?” she asked.
He moved forward slightly, further invading her space. “For starters, figuring out how you’re going to pay me back for your room and board.”
She snorted in disbelief. Maybe if she kept the banter up, she wouldn’t think about what it was going to be like being in close proximity to Will McCabe for an entire week. “You’d really charge me for sharing a bunk with you?”
He flashed her a grin. “Not monetarily.”
Whoa! The images those two words conjured up had her tingling all over. She pushed past him, then remembered she was supposed to be driving away. Getting a grip, she whirled back and decided to take him on, anyway. “I hope you’re not suggesting…”
He settled his large frame in the open car door. The look he gave her was direct, uncompromising, confident. Just seeing him that way made her mouth go dry. “My, my, you’ve got a naughty mind.”
Now would have been the perfect time to slip behind the wheel and peel off. Unfortunately, he was blocking her entrance to the driver’s side. Furious, she sputtered, “There is no way—”
“Relax.” He held up a hand before she could finish her tirade. “I like my women enthusiastic, to say the least.”
Samantha imagined they all were, given his ruggedly handsome appearance and easygoing, upbeat attitude.
Feigning disinterest, she rolled her eyes. “Glad we have that clear.”
He tucked his hands beneath his armpits, and continued watching her in a leisurely fashion that made her think about naked bodies and mussed sheets. “The question remains,” he murmured, “how you’re going to pay me back for the room and board. In a nonmonetary