“WHAT WERE YOU and your brothers and future brother-in-law talking about for so long over there?” Lily demanded at the end of the party as Fletcher prepared to drive her home. The palatial, three-story white brick Wedding Inn that Fletcher’s mother ran loomed across the manicured lawns.
“Nothing that concerns you,” Fletcher fibbed.
All four of his brothers and Thad had wanted in on the action. With five hundred dollars riding on his wager—and his secret deathbed promise to Lily’s grandmother spurring him on—Fletcher had powerful incentive to keep Lily from being hurt by Carson McRue.
She looked him up and down, color flooding her face. Feeling an answering heat well up deep inside him, he yearned to throw convention aside and simply take her in his arms and kiss her, if only to stop whatever it was she was going to say to him next. “I don’t believe you,” she said quietly.
Fletcher shrugged and folded his arms in front of his broad chest. “If you must know,” he continued lazily, standing with his shoulders back, legs braced apart, “they were razzing me about the dirty looks you gave me all during the pig-picking.”
Just as he had expected, the attitude he was exuding only served to infuriate her all the more. “Did you tell them what a cad you were?” she demanded with a haughty toss of her head, looking all Southern belle, born and bred.
Didn’t have to. They had guessed as much, and of course, he already knew. Which was another reason, Fletcher figured, it would be best if Lily continued to detest him, both before and after he won his bet, of course. He needed to convince her once and for all she needed to hold out for someone far better than either him or Carson McRue to come along and sweep her off her feet and give her the kind of life she deserved.
“Well, then,” Fletcher said, taking an astonished Lily into his arms and bringing her shockingly close as he prepared to give her something to really loathe him for, “I guess it’s high time I lived up to my ‘reputation.’ Don’t you?”
Chapter Two
Lily couldn’t believe it. Fletcher Hart was actually going to kiss her. Right here as the party was breaking up, in front of everyone getting into their cars. “I don’t—” she said, splaying her hands across his warm, hard chest. Before she could protest further, his lips were on hers, and in one sizzling instant, all reasonable thought left her brain and she was only aware of the sensations rippling through her. The smooth lips. Seductive pressure. The incredibly good taste of his lips and mouth and tongue as he erotically deepened and took full command of the kiss. She’d heard about embraces like this, read about them, even seen them when a few of her friends fell head over heels in love with the men of their dreams, but never had she experienced anything like the tumultuous whirlwind of emotion and pleasure.
And even though she knew, in some distant part of her brain, that Fletcher was only doing this to provoke her, the fun-and-pleasure-starved part of it never wanted it to end. Because fiery hot kisses like this, men who could kiss like this, so masterfully and evocatively, did not come along every day. As his arms wrapped all the tighter around her, and he brought her even closer to his hard, demanding length, Lily moaned, surprising herself with the sensuality of her response, and melted deeper into the embrace. And that was when she heard it—the low male laughter surrounding them.
The sound was like a bucket of ice water being dumped on her head. She broke off the impetuous kiss and looked around to see Fletcher’s brothers chuckling and shaking their heads with a mixture of amusement and chastisement.
“Getting a head start there?” Dylan remarked sarcastically.
“You better watch yourself,” Mac warned as he strolled to the SUV he drove whenever he wasn’t on duty as the Holly Springs sheriff.
Joe sauntered past, his wife Emma’s hand tucked in his. “You could find yourself married before you know it.”
Joe sure had, Lily remembered, thinking of the whirlwind romance earlier in the summer that now had Joe and Emma living as man and wife.
Despite the odds against a happily-ever-after in the situation Joe and Emma had initially found themselves in, Lily had to admit the two looked very happy now.
“Ah, leave him alone,” Cal said, waving off the interference of their other brothers. “It was only a kiss. Kisses don’t mean anything.” Cal turned his attention to her, looking every bit the compassionate doctor he was known to be. “Right, Lily?”
“In this case, definitely right,” Lily confirmed stormily, trying to look as casual as if she did things like this every day when everyone knew she did not.
“From where I was standing it looked like Lily was kissing him back. And that does mean something,” Thad said, as he leaned over to buss his bride-to-be’s cheek. “Right, Janey?”
“That’s where all my troubles started.” Janey sighed, looking as happy as any engaged woman should be as she laced her arm around Thad’s waist and leaned her cheek against his chest.
“It’s all disgusting to me,” her 12-year-old son, Christopher, said, as he tagged along behind his mother and Thad.
“Not to worry,” Lily said, glaring at Fletcher. “It’s not going to happen again.” She hurried to catch up with his older brother Mac. “Care to see me to my car?” she asked as she fell into his protective shadow.
“Be happy to, Lily.” Mac flashed her a reassuring smile before turning to send his third oldest brother a censuring look. “And not to worry, Lily. You’re safe with me.”
UNFORTUNATELY, FLETCHER noticed right away, Lily was not going to be safe with the TV actor who rolled into town the following morning in a custom-outfitted silver trailer.
“Who’s the beauty?” Carson McRue asked as he and Fletcher met to discuss a horse.
Fletcher followed Carson’s glance. It led straight to Lily, who was loitering on the other side of the wooden barricades erected to keep the cast and crew of Hollywood P.I. away from the spectators gathering to watch the action in the town square.
Damned if Lily didn’t look particularly gorgeous this morning, with her tousled blond hair and her sunglasses propped on top of her head. That pale pink sundress she was wearing not only hugged her slender curves to sexy advantage, it made her look like a peach blossom, ripe for the picking. Fletcher did his best to contain his mounting frustration. Protecting the headstrong and way-too-naive-for-her-own-good Lily from heartbreak was going to be no easy task. Especially with her constantly trying to win the bet she’d made with the girls. Fletcher’s only comfort was that the bet he had made was—unlike hers—strictly under wraps to those who had made it with him.
He turned back to Carson, irked by the man’s crassness in everything they discussed. His true personality seemed directly at odds with the great guy he played on TV. “She’s off-limits,” Fletcher stated casually.
Carson lifted a well-plucked brow. “Married?”
“Just off-limits,” Fletcher repeated, doing his best to appeal to the actor’s sensitive side. Assuming he had one. “Her grandmother, who was her only family, died last year. And she lost the cat she’d had since she was five years old, too. She had a very rough time.”
Carson eyed Lily rapaciously, his glance lingering on her hourglass of curves. He licked his lips. “She looks ready to kick up her heels to me.”
Punching out the competition would get him nowhere, Fletcher reminded himself firmly. At least right now. Later, if Carson continued in his current vein, all bets were off. “If you’re looking for…companionship,” Fletcher said meaningfully, “I can direct you to some likely places in Raleigh, Durham or Chapel Hill.” There were dozens of bars in all three college towns. Lots of willing young women who would give anything to spend an evening in the handsome celebrity’s company.
“No thanks. I like