Just as she was thinking the kiss might never end—and hoping it wouldn’t—he pulled away.

“I—I need to take care of something,” he said, turning away and striding to the door. Without another word, he was gone.

Carly stared after him. What had she done?

Stunned, she made her way slowly to the sofa on legs that would barely hold her and sank onto it.

Maybe the question she needed to ask herself was why she wanted to kiss him so badly. Part of the answer was easy. His kisses made her forget her problems. But kissing him—even wanting to kiss him—only made the problems worse. Fleeing her wedding with no plan for her future proved how impulsive she was. Falling for Dev—

No. She hadn’t fallen for him yet.

Or had she?

Dear Reader,

April is an exciting month for the romance industry because that is when our authors learn whether or not their titles have been nominated for the prestigious RITA® Award sponsored by the Romance Writers of America. As with the Oscars, our authors will find out whether they’ve actually won in a glamorous evening event that caps off the RWA national conference in July. Of course, all the Silhouette Romance titles this month are already winners to me!

Karen Rose Smith heads up this month’s lineup with her tender romance To Protect and Cherish (#1810) in which a cowboy-at-heart bachelor becomes a father overnight. Prince Incognito (#1811) by Linda Goodnight features another equally unforgettable hero—this one a prince masquerading as an ordinary guy. Nearly everyone accepts his disguise except, of course, our perceptive heroine who is now torn between the dictates of her head…and her heart. Longtime Silhouette Romance author Sharon De Vita returns with Doctor’s Orders (#1812), in which a single mother who has been badly burned by love discovers a handsome doctor just might have the perfect prescription for her health and longtime happiness. Finally, in Roxann Delaney’s His Queen of Hearts (#1813), a runaway bride goes from the heat and into the fire when she finds herself holed up in a remote location with her handsome rescuer.

Happy reading!

Sincerely,

Ann Leslie Tuttle

Associate Senior Editor

His Queen of Hearts
Roxann Delaney

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Roxann Delaney

Silhouette Romance

Rachel’s Rescuer #1509

A Saddle Made for Two #1533

A Whole New Man #1658

The Truth About Plain Jane #1748

His Queen of Hearts #1813

ROXANN DELANEY

doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t reading or writing, and she always loved that touch of romance in both. A native Kansan, she’s lived on a farm and in a small town, and has now returned to live in the city where she was born. Her four daughters and grandchildren keep her busy when she isn’t writing, designing Web sites or planning her high school class reunions. The 1999 Maggie Award winner is thrilled to have followed the yellow brick road to the land of Silhouette Romance and loves to hear from readers. Contact her at roxann@roxanndelaney.com. Also be sure to visit her Web site at www.roxanndelaney.com.

To Allison Lyons, one of Silhouette’s best, for her hard work and dedication in keeping me on track. I couldn’t have done it without you! And to Hazel Dalbom, my high school English teacher, who not only taught but also encouraged both good writing and creativity.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Chapter One

Devon Brannigan tugged at the black leather patch covering his left eye and tried to find a more comfortable position on the hard church pew. He couldn’t believe his good luck. In only a matter of time, he would finally have his hands on his no-good, greedy former neighbor. Once J.R.’s wedding vows were spoken, and the newlyweds departed for the reception, not only Dev but his two brothers back home would taste the sweetness of revenge.

Ignoring the choking scent of flowers that filled the sanctuary of the Baton Rouge church, he settled in for what he hoped would be a short wait. But he could wait as long as he had to. If nothing else, he was a patient and thorough man. He’d been trailing J.R. for months, always missing him by minutes. This time it wouldn’t happen. This time J.R. would be stopped from conning any more innocent people and would pay for his crimes.

The organ music rose to a crescendo and then slowly came to a close. Dev folded his arms on his chest, more than willing to enjoy J.R.’s last moments as a free man. The thought made him chuckle to himself. Marriage wouldn’t be the only bonds holding James Robert Staton when everything had played out. Dev wanted every penny owed him, but, even more, he wanted the man behind bars. Once the couple was on their way to their honeymoon hideaway, it would take one call to the authorities, and the Feds would take care of J.R. He chuckled again and earned a warning stare from the plump, middle-aged woman beside him. Turning to her, he smiled, knowing what her reaction would be to the look in his one eye and the patch over the other. With a huff of air, she faced forward, her shoulders bunched in indignation, exactly as he expected.

As the droning of the minister’s voice continued, Dev focused his attention on the ceremony. Staring at the back of the groom only made him more eager to get this rolling, and since there was nothing he could do about that, he let his gaze slide over the bride. Not that he could see that much of her. If he’d known anything about fashion, he might have admired her wedding dress. But to him it was nothing more than a shroud of white covering what might or might not be a delightful body. It didn’t matter. He had better things to do than chase after women.

But he couldn’t ignore the perfection of her profile when she turned to smile at her groom. J.R. might be considered a handsome man, but he didn’t deserve the beauty he’d soon be wed to. Did she deserve the shock she’d be in for as soon as the I do’s were said?

Before Dev could imagine how distraught the bride might become when he played his hand and how she might just throw in a wild card he hadn’t considered, she faced the guests. Enchanted by the vision of the auburn-haired beauty, Dev barely heard her clear her throat, intent on the nervous smile playing at her full lips.

“Thank you all for coming to share this special day,” she said, her husky voice wobbling slightly. “I want to thank my mama for this beautiful wedding. And my bridesmaids for all their loving support.”

Dev wasn’t sure if her gesture was customary, but by the wary look in J.R.’s eyes, he knew something unplanned was happening. Uncrossing his arms, he sat up straighter, still hoping to remain unnoticed, yet wishing he had a better view.

The bride’s gaze darted from one side of the church to the other. J.R. reached out to take her hand, but she pulled back, bestowing him with a trembling smile, and looked directly at one of the women in the wedding party. “I’d especially like to thank my maid of honor, Priscilla. She probably isn’t aware of it, but she did me a great service two nights ago by sleeping with James.”

A collective gasp rose among the guests, followed by silence and then a quiet murmur that grew louder. A spattering of giggles could be heard near the front of the church where J.R. stood like a marble statue, never batting an eye. The maid of honor turned to glance at the guests, her face pale. As bright spots of color appeared on her cheeks, her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“It’s all right, Prissy,” the bride told her. “It really is.” She smiled, her eyes glittering, and looked down at a woman on the end of the front row. “I’m sorry, Mama, but I can’t do this. I just can’t.”

Gathering her voluminous skirt, she nearly flew up the aisle. For a moment there was no sound, and then an anguished cry from the woman she’d spoken to filled the crowded room. “You have to, Carolyn!”

The rustle of lace swept past Dev. Acting on instinct, Devon slammed his Stetson on his head and jumped to his feet, hurrying to catch her by one lace-covered elbow as she pushed open the massive wooden door. Sunlight blinded him for a moment, but he held tight to her to keep her from stumbling.

“God help me,” he heard her whisper.

He tugged his hat farther down as a shield from the sunshine and prying eyes. “Well, I’m sure not God, sugar, but I’ll be more than happy to do whatever I can,” he replied, guiding her down the steps.

She didn’t fight him as he hustled her toward his Jeep, parked less than half a block away. The click of her heels on the sidewalk echoed with each step, until they heard the church doors burst open and the sound of agitated voices behind them. Reaching his vehicle, Dev yanked open the passenger door for her and waited until she bunched her dress enough to slide in. Then he circled the front of the Jeep and climbed in behind the wheel.

Checking for traffic, he started the engine. “Hang on, sugar,” he said, twisting the steering wheel to leave the parking spot with a squeal of rubber. He made a tight U-turn and stomped the accelerator just as they passed the growing crowd of people on the church steps. With a quick glance in that direction, he saw J.R. near the door, his hands fisted at his sides and a deep frown marring his good looks.

Gotcha. Dev smiled to himself. Things sure hadn’t worked out as he’d planned, but he’d played the surprise hand he’d been dealt with his usual talent. Satisfied, he eased off on the gas and sneaked a look at his passenger.

Head tilted back to lean against the headrest and eyes closed, she was the perfect picture of a serene bride. But she couldn’t be. She’d just jilted her groom at the altar. Any woman who’d been through what she must have couldn’t be feeling calm.

“You okay?” he asked.

After a brief moment she nodded.

He glanced down at her hands. Knotted tightly in her lap, they gave her away. He was an expert at reading body language in his business and in everyday life, too. His thirty-four years had taught him well. He would let her calm down and get her thoughts together, and then he’d find out what was going on. Were J.R.’s cheating ways the only reason she’d dumped him, or was there more to it?

She didn’t know it, but Dev had a stake in this. And she’d become his ace in the hole.

When her heart stopped slamming against her ribs and her body ceased trembling, Carly Albright took a deep breath and slowly let it out. How had she done it? Of course there’d been no choice, but how had she stood there and announced that she couldn’t marry James? What would he do? What would her mama do?

So many questions and no answers. Maybe that was a good thing. If she could just put the incident out of her mind and—And what? She didn’t even know where she was going, let alone how to deal with life once she got there.

And what must this man beside her, who’d blessedly come to her rescue, think of her?

She opened her eyes and peeked at him from under her lashes. For one second she couldn’t breathe. Mercy goodness, but he was handsome! Dark, nearly ebony hair curled beneath the brim of his black cowboy hat. He wasn’t dressed in western clothing, but something about him other than the hat shouted “cowboy.” His jaw was strong, angular, his nose long and straight. High cheekbones gave him a European air, while a silvery scar ran across the bridge of his nose and disappeared on the other side. And those lips! Firm, yet full. Sensual. Carly had to press her own lips together to capture her sigh before it escaped.

He had a dangerous look about him, but she didn’t feel threatened. In fact, she felt more secure than she had for weeks, ever since she’d started having doubts about marrying James.

Well, what’s done is done, she thought, opening her eyes wide and lifting her hands to slip out the hairpins that held her headpiece. She’d find a way to make the best of it. She only hoped it didn’t become a disaster, like her wedding.

“Do you mind if I toss this in the back?” she asked, pulling the multitiered veil off her head.

He didn’t turn to look at her. “Be my guest.”

Pivoting in the seat to stuff the netting in the back, she checked behind them to make sure no one was following. When she was satisfied that the highway behind them was clear of any familiar vehicles, she settled back into the seat again.

There was no sense worrying about it. It was done and over with. The only thing that worried her was her mama. But somehow, Carly knew Lily Mae Charpentier Albright would make out just fine. Maybe even better, if she went on with the plans they’d made about selling the mansion. Just as she would, herself. If only she had a plan.

“So. Where are we headed?” she asked over the muted strains of country music playing on the radio.

For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her. “Where can I drop you?” he finally asked. When she didn’t answer, he glanced at her. “At home? A friend’s? Relative’s?”

Going home was out of the question. At least for now. The chance was too big that James would look for her there. She couldn’t face him. And seeing family and friends would be more than humiliating. She felt bad about leaving her mama to deal with the backlash, but Mama could handle it with her usual Southern grace. Carly just wasn’t up to it.

She looked down at her hands, tightly fisted in her lap. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “You were there. You saw what happened.”

He was silent again, until a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “Maybe you need some time. Would you like to go somewhere they can’t find you?”

She really hadn’t given it any thought, concentrating only on the wedding and how to stop it. “Well, yes, I guess I do.”

“Thought so. I saw you checking to make sure we’re not being followed. You can rest easy. We aren’t.”

Carly worried her bottom lip, imagining the mess she’d left back at the church. If she could trust Prissy, she’d call her, but since her best friend had taken it upon herself to avail herself of the groom’s sexual charms, she wasn’t the wisest choice for a confidante at this point in time.

Maybe she could start fresh somewhere, or at least wait until the uproar died down before returning home. After quickly reassuring herself that she was safer nowhere near Baton Rouge, at least for a while, Carly relaxed. One less thing to worry about and, hopefully, she would learn to be a better judge of people.

“We’re headed west?” she asked, looking to the future, instead of the past.

Nodding, he kept his eyes on the late-afternoon traffic. “To Texas?”

He briefly took his attention off the road long enough to glance at her. “What makes you think so?”

“Your Texas drawl.” When he glanced at her again, she felt more than saw his surprise. “It’s not the same as a Louisiana accent,” she quickly explained. “Or Georgia or Arkansas or Mississi—”

“Right.” His long fingers flexed on the steering wheel. “I never realized I still had it,” he muttered under his breath.

“That black hat’s a good hint.”

“Men wear Stetson’s in Louisiana, too.”

“But you’re not from Louisiana.”

This time his fingers gripped the steering wheel, and the hard, sharp angle of his jaw moved before he spoke. “Same thing as.”

Carly wished he’d do more than glance at her. Having a conversation with someone she couldn’t make eye contact with always made her uneasy. That’s what had started her wondering about James over the past week. It wasn’t that he never looked at her directly. He did, often. But lately there had been something in his eyes. Something that had begun to make her uncomfortable at times. He had never given her a reason not to trust him. In fact, he had swept her off her feet the first time she met him. She now understood what a whirlwind courtship was. Flowers, candlelit dinners, expensive trinkets and lots of attention. James certainly knew how to turn a girl’s head. And he had been more than a gentleman with both her and her mama. But although she had made it to the age of twenty-six without making a major mistake with a man, she knew now that her judgment, of men especially, was practically nonexistent. She had always considered herself a good judge of character. Not that her family and close friends agreed. Now she had proof they were right.

“You always lived in Louisiana?”

So lost in thought, his question startled her, and she answered automatically. “Born and raised in Baton Rouge, like all the Albrights and Charpentiers. I guess we’ve been here forever. I’d even bet we were here before the city was founded.” She turned to look at the man next to her. “What about you?”

“You’re a betting woman?”

It was the third time he’d answered a question with a question, and she didn’t like what it might mean. “No, what I meant was, where are you from?”

“Didn’t we just cover that?”

It was exactly as she had suspected. He didn’t want to answer her questions. What was he hiding? Was Prissy right? Was she too trusting? Well, she certainly had been where Prissy and James were concerned.

“Do you always do that?” she asked, hoping she wasn’t as gullible as everyone told her she was.

“Do what?”

She gave a nervous little laugh. He wasn’t making things look any better with his evasion. “Answer a question you don’t want to answer with another question.”

Once again the corner of his mouth turned up, and Carly wondered what a full smile looked like. Mercy goodness! She hadn’t even had a good look at him when he’d helped her into the vehicle. Pauvre Défunte Mamère, rest her soul, had told her time and again that she would come to a bad end if she didn’t curb her impulsivité. She had been in such a panic to get away from the church as fast and as far as possible, she hadn’t given any thought to what kind of man he might be. Only that he had come along when she had needed someone the most. He could be anybody. A kidnapper, for instance. Although why anyone would want to do that, since she and her mother didn’t have two nickels left to rub together, was beyond her. Things had been bad enough before the wedding, but after all the expenses, she wondered what would happen if she were held for ransom. Would he kill her? Or would he merely leave her in some horrid place to fend for herself?

“Should I be afraid of you?” she asked, suddenly praying that, if nothing else, this stranger was truthful.

“Are you?”

“See? You did it again. And that makes me wonder if I shouldn’t demand that you stop this second and let me out.” She had never done anything this reckless or foolish. But there hadn’t been time to think through the situation. She’d needed a way out of the worst moment in her life, and he’d been there to save her. What would happen if she now needed rescuing from her rescuer?

Making certain he was watching the road and not her, she slowly reached for the doorhandle, grateful that her bouffant skirt hid her movement.

She froze when he leaned over to grasp the wrist of her free hand. He kept his eyes on the road and his voice low. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, sugar. Jumping from a car going ninety miles an hour isn’t healthy.”

Carly swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, acutely aware of the tingling in her fingertips from his touch.

Releasing her, he slowed the car as they entered heavier traffic. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yeah, right,” she muttered under her breath.

His soft chuckle sent a warm shiver up her spine. “Trust me,” he said, his voice setting butterflies free low in her middle. “The last thing I want is to see you hurt.”

She ignored the flutterings and noticed that he was looking for a spot to pull off the road. If she could stall him long enough, make him think she was going along with this, maybe she’d get the chance to escape.

“Trust you?” she asked, hoping her voice wouldn’t betray her nervousness. “I don’t even know your name.”

“What’s yours?”

Frustration warred with fear and won. “Carolyn. Carolyn Albright. But my friends call me Carly.”

“Nice to meet you, Carly. Mine’s Dev Brannigan.”

Slowing almost to a stop, he pulled into the drive-through of a familiar hamburger chain. “You hungry?”

She started to tell him he couldn’t change the subject. But when he turned in the seat to look at her, the words died on her lips.

One dark eyebrow arched over a sapphire-blue eye, the other was covered with a black leather patch, giving him a rakish appearance. Like a pirate.

Or the Devil.

While his traveling companion slept, Dev thought about her reaction to what must have been her first view of his eyepatch. Surprise had been the first emotion to cross her face. But it hadn’t lasted more than a second. He hadn’t seen the next thing coming, but he should have. If she had screamed, he would have been prepared. Not Carly Albright. Nope. She’d just matter-of-factly asked him if Dev was short for Devil.

Chuckling softly so he wouldn’t wake her, he shook his head. Just like his mother, who had often told him she had named him for Lucifer, not a French ancestor. Carly certainly was straightforward. No keeping her hand close to her vest. And the questions! Right and left. He felt like a novice tennis player trying to field McEnroe’s volleys. He had wanted to ease the fear she had eventually shown of him, but the less she knew, the better. At least for now. And until he could discover what, if anything, besides J.R.’s last-minute infidelity, had caused her to run out on her wedding, he wasn’t revealing anything about himself until and unless it was absolutely necessary.

His older brother, Chace, referred to their former neighbor as a snake. Considering the story of how Chace had met his wife, Ellie, Dev agreed that the term fit. He preferred weasel. Like the predatory animal that sneaked into henhouses in the dark of night, J.R. did his damage and was gone before anyone was the wiser. Was Carly Albright his latest victim? Had she, like Ellie almost had, fallen for one of his schemes?

When he had helped her from the church, Dev’s only thought had been to question her while he took her wherever she wanted to go. He hadn’t planned anything more, until he learned she had nowhere to go. Now that she was in his care for however long, he hoped J.R. would come after her.

He had waited for the right moment to ask a few questions, but once they’d eaten and driven another thirty minutes, her eyelids had fluttered shut, hiding her blue-green eyes, and he hadn’t wanted to disturb her. Especially when he noticed the dark circles under her eyes.

This wasn’t the way he’d expected to be driving home, with an almost-bride on the run, but it sure beat the alternative. He was pretty certain J.R. hadn’t recognized him, but even that didn’t matter. No one, not even his family, had any idea what he did or where he lived. He had planned it that way. Maybe he would soon be able to tell them about his life. Then again, once they knew everything, they might not give a damn.

The miles ticked by while he considered how to let J.R. know where to find the blushing bride. By the time the sun blazed its lowering path to the horizon, and the highway led him into the heart of Shreveport, he had planned his next play.

When he pulled into the private parking area behind his building, he noticed one particular car and was glad to see it. He’d be able to play his first card without delay.

Turning off the engine, he looked at the woman next to him. He hated to wake her. Whether she exhibited outward signs of emotional exhaustion or not, he sensed she was pretty well drained. It wouldn’t be anything at all to carry her to the elevator. She couldn’t weigh that much, and he kept himself in good physical condition. People who knew him might think he had a cushy job, but he knew better. Not only did he have to be mentally alert at all times, but he sometimes needed the brawn to go with the brains. The patch over his eye was proof of that.

As he suspected, she didn’t weigh more than some of the oil equipment he’d lifted when he’d worked with the drilling company. Carrying her to the elevator and from there into his private quarters, he took her straight to his bedroom. He would be too busy most of the night to need the bed himself and could always get a few winks on the sofa in the sitting room.

She didn’t even stir when he gently placed her on top of the silk spread. Looking down at her in the soft glow of the small bedside lamp, he hoped the luck of meeting her when he did was good and not bad. His daddy had always told him he possessed the Devil’s luck, but the sight of Carly, so peaceful and beautiful, made him wonder if he wasn’t about to find out exactly what that meant.

Concerned that she might soon be uncomfortable, Dev wasn’t sure what to do. She was obviously sleeping soundly. She might look like an angel in that wedding dress, but it wasn’t something someone would want to sleep in. Should he try to get her out of it? There was no doubt she needed the sleep, and he probably could do it without waking her, but—But nothing. Hell, he wasn’t about to try to strip her out of that thing. He wasn’t crazy. The odds were against him that he could do it without giving a thought to what lay beneath the layers of lace and satin.

After finding an extra blanket, he covered her and searched for something she could wear when she’d had enough sleep. Knowing he probably wouldn’t be there when she did awaken, he left her a note.

In the elevator he mentally went over his plan again. When it came to a stop, he walked down the hall to the security office, ready to put things into action.

“Greg,” he said, after stepping into the room, “I need to get some information out as fast as possible.”

His chief of security looked up from the bank of closed-circuit televisions stationed along one wall and shoved his glasses back up on his nose. “Out to the other casinos?”

Dev nodded. “Let’s start with the ones here in Shreveport and see if that does the trick.”

Without blinking an eye, Greg Tremain picked up a phone. “What do they need to know?”

Smiling at the man’s efficiency, Dev took a seat next to him. “I expect Staton to be arriving in town within the next few days. Get word to him that the woman who left him standing at the altar is here at the Devil’s Den.”

The only indication that Greg knew things hadn’t gone as planned was a nearly imperceptible raising of one eyebrow as he punched a number on the auto-dialer.

While Greg relayed the message to twenty-some Shreveport area casinos, Dev closed his eyes, imagining J.R.’s reaction to the news. He suspected that once J.R. learned where Carly was, he’d come after her. In the meantime Dev would get the full story of their relationship from Carly. If there was more to it than money—and he doubted it was love on J.R.’s part—he would soon know.

Greg waited, the phone to his ear, and turned to him. “Things didn’t work out like you’d hoped?”

“Nope. But I have it covered,” Dev said, thinking of Carly. “One more thing. As soon as Staton steps a foot through the door of this place, I want to know it.”

“I’ll alert the staff and make sure Security keeps their eyes open.”

Standing, Dev put his hand on Greg’s shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll fill you in on everything as soon as I know myself.”

He let himself out of the room while his most trusted employee followed his orders. Rotating his shoulders to ease the kinks from the long drive, he smiled. The pot was at the highest it had ever been, and the ante would soon go up. Once he had J.R. taken care of, he could return to the Triple B Ranch to face his brothers. He had a confession to make, and he didn’t know how his brothers would react. He didn’t expect it to be good. But until he could prove his worth as a member of the family by putting a stop to J.R. and the four-generation feud, he would have to wait. He could do that. With his ace sleeping soundly upstairs in his bed, he was certain he held the winning hand.

Chapter Two

Carly scratched at her neck, not yet awake but not asleep. Her fingertips recognized an unfamiliar texture, and she drowsily wondered what it was. Her flannel gown wasn’t this itchy. As her mind slowly floated out of the dreamy state, she remembered it was April, and she didn’t wear a flannel nightie in the spring. So why was there lace at her throat?

Her hand froze. Of course. She was in her wedding gown, an expensive creation of imported lace, seed pearls and creamy satin that her mother had insisted Carly must have, even though they couldn’t afford it.

The cobwebs in her mind slowly receded, and she realized she wasn’t at her wedding and she wasn’t on her honeymoon. She scrunched her eyes tight and groaned. Had she really announced that she couldn’t marry James?

Her mind whirled with images and sounds, of Prissy’s pale face and her mother’s tear-filled eyes and anguished cry. Oh, yes, she’d done it. And now she would have to deal with it. That’s what she got for not heeding pauvre défunte Mamère’s warnings.

Memories flew at her like a whirlwind, settling finally on a devilishly handsome stranger. One whose very presence had been threatening and frightening, yet protective and calming. And he had certainly made her heart race, especially when he touched her. He’d come to her rescue, and they’d driven off in his Jeep. Yes, that’s what she remembered. They’d gotten burgers and driven on, and she’d been so tired, so exhausted, that she must have fallen asleep.

But where was she now? Whose bed was she sleeping in? Like Goldilocks awakening when the three bears returned, she was afraid to open her eyes. She giggled nervously, wondering whether, if she did peek, she would see huge bears peering at her.

Feeling more than silly, she slowly opened her eyes. See? No bears, you goose. She let out a shaky sigh of relief. The room was empty. Of bears anyway and, thankfully, of people too.

Slivers of sunshine in the dusky room slipped through a slit in the drapes across from the bed. Moving carefully, Carly pushed back the blanket covering her and cautiously walked on silk-stockinged feet from the bed to the window. Her fingers trembled as she peeled the edge of the curtain aside a few inches. Bright light hit her full in the face, and she blinked, but she was determined to find out where she was. After she became accustomed to the brightness, she gazed out and then took a quick step back, the fabric slipping from her fingers. She spun around, taking in the room’s furnishings and the personal pictures on the wall. This wasn’t a motel room. This was…an apartment? And merely the bedroom.

On a large, upholstered club chair, she spotted her veil, draped across the back and trailing to the floor. She crossed the few steps to it and noticed a piece of paper atop a pile of what looked like clothing. Picking up the note, she squinted in the dim light and quickly read it.

Since you didn’t bring luggage, you can wear these until we get you something more appropriate. When you’re ready, give me a call and we’ll have some breakfast.

It was signed “Dev,” with a phone number under the name.

Carly moved the clothes aside and sank onto the chair, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. Mercy goodness, what had she gotten herself into? She’d bolted from the church without a thought as to what she was doing or what would happen to her. She hadn’t even grabbed a bag. But then, her luggage had been tucked away in James’s car so she wouldn’t have bothered if she had even thought of it. Her wardrobe was the last thing on her mind when she’d burst through the church doors and the stranger had taken her away. She’d spent a sleepless night before her wedding wondering what to do, planning exactly what she’d say and when she’d say it, and praying she could go through with it. She certainly hadn’t planned well. Then again, when it came to her personal life, she never did. Between being too impulsive and her poor judgment, she had really botched things.

All she could do now was make the best of the situation she’d managed to get herself into. As bad as it might be, it couldn’t be as bad as if she had gone ahead with the wedding.

Picking up the items she’d shoved aside, she held up one of the two and eyed it. A sweatshirt. The other piece of clothing was matching sweatpants, and both were several sizes too big. Since she didn’t have a choice—it was her wedding gown or the sweatsuit or nothing—she stood and began to struggle out of her dress. Cursing each tiny satin-covered button in the back, she finally gave up and tugged at the fabric until she heard a rip, and the fasteners popped like popcorn around her.

Once freed, she ignored the wave of guilt caused by the damage she had done and shoved the cumbersome dress to her feet. Stepping out of it, she removed her nylons and shivered, then grabbed the clothing Dev had left and quickly put it on. The legs of the pants were a good ten inches too long, and she was forced to roll the waistband over and the hems up, so she could take a step without tripping. Shoving the sleeves up as far as possible, she looked around for a mirror. Seeing none above the massive dresser along one wall, she tried a door and found a bathroom.

One look in the mirror was enough to know it was a wonder her savior hadn’t dumped her along the road. Mascara smudged beneath both eyes, and her hair looked as if it had been brushed with an egg beater. A drop of water on her finger removed the black marks, and a finger-combing tamed her hair to almost presentable.

Satisfied she could do nothing more with her appearance, she passed through the doorway and spied a cordless phone on the table next to the bed. She grabbed it and the note, and quickly punched in the number Dev had left her.

“Brannigan,” he drawled.

The man’s voice was absolutely lethal. The sound of it warmed the blood running through her veins, and she closed her eyes. She could listen to it forever.

“Carly?”

She opened her eyes and sighed softly. “Thanks for the loan of the clothes.”

He let out a whoosh of breath. “Sure. No problem. You okay?”

Was she? She really couldn’t tell, still feeling a little shell-shocked and confused. “I think so.”

“Good. What do you like for breakfast?”

“Breakfast?” She rarely ate in the morning and had often been chided by her mother for it. “Doesn’t matter. Look, uh, Dev—”

“Stay put,” he said, before she could finish. “I’ll have something there in fifteen minutes.”

“You don’t need to do that. What I wanted to ask you is—”

But he’d hung up.

Fifteen minutes for breakfast? Was there a fast-food place nearby? A shop with coffee cake? Whatever, she didn’t care, as long as he had the answers she needed and would be kind enough to help her. She was certain he hadn’t saved her only to refuse to help her now. Even with the eye patch he wore, he looked reasonable.

Too antsy to be still, she decided to explore, hoping to discover where she was. That’s all she needed to know, and if only he hadn’t ended the call in such a rush, she would have asked. Once she had her bearings, maybe she could start making plans.

She opened a pair of double doors near the dresser and discovered a walk-in closet filled with shirts and suits, all neatly hung in double rows. The other set of doors led into an impressive living room. A corner fireplace dominated the room, along with an enormous window that spanned one wall. Walking behind a huge white leather sofa facing an entertainment center crowded with electronic equipment, she went to the window and stared out at the same view she’d had from the bedroom. She was several floors up and could see far into the distance, but it didn’t reveal her location. All she could tell was that there was a city out there, with a slow-moving river running through it. She could be almost anywhere.

Wishing he would hurry so she could find out where she was, she took a seat on one of the matching white leather chairs that flanked the sofa. Knowing there was one thing she needed to do, she dialed the long-familiar number, hoping her host wouldn’t mind a small long-distance charge.

“Mama?” she said, when her mother answered after two rings.

“Carly! Oh, honey, where are you? Are you all right? I’m absolutely appalled at what that James did to you. That awful man. Don’t you worry, honey. He’ll never be able to show his face again to anyone of any significance in Baton Rouge.”

Carly waited until her mother took a breath, amazed at the difference between the anguished cry at the church and the comforting yet indignant concern her mother now conveyed. She smiled, knowing full well that her mother had sobbed to her closest friends, who had insisted that Carly had done the right thing, in light of what had happened. And what an enlightenment!

“I’m fine, Mama,” Carly answered, when given the chance. “I just need some…I need some time away, that’s all.”

“Oh,” her mother said, sounding a bit disappointed. “But I can understand. I don’t know how you managed to do it, thinking I would be so very disappointed and knowing people would talk. And they have, Carly, I have to tell you. But they’re talking about how utterly awful James was to do what he did to such a sweet girl like you.”

But Carly knew that all the blame couldn’t be laid at James’s door. She had been the one taken in, the one who had judged him completely wrong. And if she had done that, there was no telling just how bad her judgment was. “I don’t know when I’ll be home, Mama,” she said truthfully.

“Well,” her mother said, dragging the word out, “I hope it’s soon. We have to make new plans, now that you’ll be living at home again.”

Certain her mother had ditched the plan they’d made together, Carly hurried to answer. “You go right ahead and sell the house, Mama, and move into that new apartment. You’ll like it so very much more than rambling in that big old house.” And with the money from the sale, she knew her mother could pay off the debts and start fresh. They’d planned it down to the smallest detail.

“Don’t worry about me,” Carly said, fighting the tears that threatened. “I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”

But could she really? She had always been at home, and while many of her friends had married and settled down, she had taken over the responsibilities of running their large estate—an estate that had become a huge money pit.

“But, Carly—”

“No buts, Mama. It’s time I strike out on my own. But I’ll be in touch. I promise. Call Cousin Edward about the sale. And do it today, Mama, please.”

“I just don’t know…”

“You’ll love that new apartment,” she said, her heart aching. “I love you, Mama, and I’ll talk to you again soon.”

After her mother professed her own love, Carly hung up. She had spoken with her mother’s cousin Edward at length about selling the house. He knew exactly what needed to be done, and he would watch over her mother until Carly returned. If she returned. But she couldn’t now. Not yet. That was something she wasn’t ready to face for a long time.

Dev didn’t have any idea what Carly might like to eat, so he’d had the chef load up a cart with just about everything. His own breakfast had been hours ago, as was his habit. He didn’t need to eat, and he slept only when exhaustion forced him to.

Unlocking the door to his private quarters, he pushed the cart into the room ahead of him. He immediately saw Carly perched on a chair, a frown marring her pretty features.

“Glad to see you made it through the night.” He stopped next to the low table in front of her. “I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable.”

She gave him a small, shy smile. “I wouldn’t know. Apparently, I slept through everything. I hope I wasn’t a bother. If you’ll just tell me—”

“Here,” he said, passing her a plate to fill. “Dig in. I hope there’s something you like.”

Her eyes widened when he removed the shiny domed lids of several individual plates piled high with a variety of different foods. “I’m not a big breakfast eater,” she began, her gaze on the offerings, “but this looks too good to pass up. Where did you get it? Is this a hotel?”

“Of sorts,” he answered, handing her a cloth napkin.

She looked up to stare at him, surprise and a touch of fear evident in her eyes. He smiled and added two more fresh strawberries to her plate, then sat on the corner of the sofa near her. He wasn’t quite ready to reveal her whereabouts. Until he could discover how much she knew about J.R., he’d keep the information to himself. When he was certain she wasn’t involved in his stepbrother’s nefarious activities, he’d answer her questions. The less personal ones, at least.

“Relax and enjoy your breakfast,” he told her, crossing one foot over the other knee and leaning back to watch.

“Aren’t you going to eat, too?”

“A little late in the day for breakfast for most people, don’t you think?”

She placed her plate on the table in front of her, sighing, and looked up at him. “There you go again. A question for a question. I’m beginning to think you don’t want to tell me anything. Am I right?”

“I’ll answer your questions and maybe show you around when you’re finished. How’s that?”

Shrugging, she picked up her plate again and took a bite of fresh cantaloupe. While she was busy with her food, he studied her. As inquisitive as she was, he wondered how J.R. had managed to con her, if indeed he had. It was entirely possible that she was embroiled in the man’s schemes. But she didn’t strike Dev as the devious type.

He weighed the possibilities. Her angelic face and air of innocence might be an asset J.R. could put to good use. The man had fooled almost everyone with his false tales and easy-on-the-eyes appearance. But for a woman who’d left her intended at the altar, Dev wasn’t ready to believe she wasn’t involved in anything or even knew that the man she’d nearly married was nothing more than a thief.

“You don’t seem too concerned for a bride who just jilted her groom,” he pointed out.

The strawberry in her hand stopped at her open lips. She closed her mouth and returned the fruit to her plate, hanging her head, her shoulders drooping. When she looked up at him again, her eyes brimmed with tears and pink tinged her pale cheeks. If she was acting, she was one of the best he’d ever seen. But J.R. would find the best. Still, Dev had to quell the sympathy he suddenly felt for her.

“I made a…mistake,” she said, ducking her head again.

“You mean you had to marry him?” His gaze slid down her body, wondering if she might be carrying the child of his sworn enemy.

“Mercy goodness! It isn’t what you’re thinking,” she cried, her cheeks deepening to a rosy red. “We never…He didn’t—”

“You aren’t pregnant,” he finished for her, ignoring his slight feeling of relief. “Then why was it a mistake?”

Pushing the plate of food away, she leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “This is very embarrassing,” she said in a soft voice he had to strain to hear.

Had she been duped and was now too ashamed to admit she had been involved in anything that might be illegal? But he wasn’t ready to trust her. Maybe she was playing on his sympathies, and he wasn’t going to fall for it if she was. He wasn’t sure what he could say to get her to open up to him, but he tried with, “You can tell me. I’m a good listener.”

She shook her head, and a tear trickled slowly down her cheek.

“I promise not to judge you,” he coaxed.

For a moment she didn’t move, except to sink her teeth into her bottom lip and nod.

“He hurt you?” Dev asked when she didn’t say anything.

“No, he never laid a hand on me. He was always a gentleman.”

“I mean…emotionally,” he tried.

She blew out a breath. “You mean because of Prissy.”

“Prissy?”

“My maid of honor. Prissy is supposed to be my best friend.”

“Then you are in love with him?” Somewhere deep inside, Dev almost hoped she would say she wasn’t. And he didn’t like thinking that. But if she wasn’t, he didn’t want to learn that this young woman was on the wrong side of the law.

Her chin lifted and her lower lip quivered. “I suppose it won’t sound very good if I say I thought I was.”

He smothered the slight stab of disappointment he felt. Yesterday, when he’d helped her leave the church, his only thought had been that she might give him some information about J.R. After all, the wedding wasn’t going to take place, and he had lost his chance to corner the man. But because she felt she had nowhere to go, he didn’t see any reason not to take advantage of the situation and use her to lure J.R. here on his own turf. It would be even better to confront him here. The bride might have taken offense to the groom being led away by police on their honeymoon. Especially now that he had met Carly.

But he found himself losing his perspective and wanting to help her out of whatever trouble she was in. Maybe he could still help her and nail J.R., too, but he’d have to have the full story before he could do it. And he had to keep his plans for the casino and J.R. uppermost in his mind. Getting sidetracked because of a pretty woman wasn’t like him. He wasn’t about to take that chance now, when he was so close.

“Tell me what the two of you were involved in.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide. “Involved in? We were getting married. That’s the only kind of involvement we had. And why were you at my wedding? Are you a friend of James? Or maybe family?”

Dev nearly laughed out loud. Family? No. Friend? Far from it. They had known each other since birth and had been enemies even before that. Four generations, to be exact. “I’ve known him a long time,” he answered, unwilling to say more until he was sure that she wasn’t involved in something unlawful.

And something in the “was” about loving J.R. still bothered him. “If you knew about his…uh, unfaithfulness before the wedding, why didn’t you just call it off then?”

Placing her hands in her lap, she linked them tightly together and lowered her head. “I don’t know. Janelle, one of my bridesmaids, phoned me the morning before to tell me the news. I was so confused and hadn’t had much sleep. I didn’t really know what to do until the last minute.” She looked up at him and sighed. “There had been signs, but I ignored them.”

“What signs?”

“Well, for one thing, he was impatient about the wedding date. He wanted to get married sooner than I had chosen. We finally convinced him that anything sooner would mean a shoddy wedding, and Mama wouldn’t stand for that. Then he started acting strange as the wedding drew closer.”

“In what way?”

“He…hovered, wanting to spend every second with me. He would get upset if we hit a snag in the wedding plans. He stopped caring about the wedding plans after a while, when he had been very involved in them in the beginning.” She sighed, and her eyes filled with tears again. “I should’ve done something then. At least asked him what the problem was. But I excused it as pre-wedding jitters and continued with the wedding plans.” She paused for a moment, looking down at her hands, still clenched in her lap. “But it’s obvious there was something going on with Prissy, even then. Maybe he swept her off her feet like he had me. I don’t know. And then there was Mama and Oak Hill Grove.”

He shook his head, trying to make sense of it. “Oak Hill Grove is your home?”

She breathed a long sigh. “Yes. You see, it’s been in the Charpentier family for years. It was passed down from my great-great-grandfather Charpentier to his son, to his son, and then to Mama when she married, because she has no brothers. But it’s so old, and expenses and taxes have been so high and—” she lowered her head and shook it “—and Mama isn’t very good with money. She went through what little bit Daddy left her, years ago.”

Stunned, Dev stared at her. “You were marrying him for his money?”

He heard her sniff before she looked at him. “No, not at all. In fact, Mama and I made plans when we knew I would be getting married and moving into my own home. She would sell Oak Hill Grove, pay off the debts and move to a nice apartment.”

Remembering what J.R. had done to others and nearly done to his oldest brother’s wife before they married, Dev asked the only thing on his mind. “Was there oil on the land?”

“Oil? Why, no. We had it surveyed two years ago. Mama was hoping there might be. It would’ve been the answer to our prayers. But there isn’t. Why do you ask?”

This was his chance to tell her how J.R. was no good, but he hesitated. “An answer to your difficulties maybe?”

“It would have been,” she agreed with another sniff. “No one knows how bad things have become for us. Mama insisted that we always put up a good front. Even the cousins don’t have any idea. Somehow, we’ve been able to fool everyone.”

“And James didn’t know this, either?”

“Oh, mercy, no! I never breathed a word to him. Why would I? There was no reason to. We had everything worked out. Our financial problems would be solved and still be our secret.”

Dev got to his feet, turning to hide his smile. It would’ve served J.R. right if the wedding had occurred. In addition to his questionable real estate practices and other business ventures, the man owed a small fortune to enough casinos and money sharks across the country to keep him running for years. He was obviously hoping he could get his hands on the Albright’s money and family name to hold off some of his debtors until he could find a way to pay them off, if not have enough money from the marriage to do it all. People were on to his oil schemes in Oklahoma and Texas. Probably Louisiana, too. Dev knew J.R. had tried his marriage scheme on at least one other unsuspecting woman. Carly didn’t know how lucky she was that her prospective groom had committed his indiscretion.

That wasn’t the problem now. Dev was convinced J.R. still didn’t know the truth and would come looking for Carly. But Dev couldn’t keep her here against her will. If she stayed of her own free will—and he would see that it was—all he had to do was wait and play out the hand to the last card. Even if she moved on, J.R. would still come looking for her at the casino.

Carly pushed away from the table and stood to walk to the windows. “Would you tell me about James?” she asked, turning back to look at Dev. “You seem to know him well.”

Dev wasn’t sure if it would be better or worse for her to hear the truth. He didn’t know her well enough to assess how much damage it could cause. But she deserved to know as much as he felt he could reveal.

“You’re not the only woman he’s conned,” he admitted. “My older brother’s wife, Ellie, had a similar experience with him.”

Carly’s eyes widened. “Did she marry him?”

“No, it didn’t come to that. But he had learned there was oil on land that she and her brothers owned. He was trying to buy it, and when he couldn’t, because her brothers refused to sell, proposing marriage was his next step. As it turned out, Ellie didn’t fall for it. But from what I know, it was a close call for her.”

“Oh, my!” she whispered, her face pale.

Dev hurried to her side and reached out to steady her, afraid she was going to faint. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice breathless, “but I had no idea…” She looked up at him, adding a smile. “I can’t thank you enough for telling me.”

Fearing he might have caused more damage, he decided to change the subject, hoping that doing so, she might have time to come to terms with all that had happened. “What size do you wear?”

Surprised by his question, Carly forgot her own questions. When his one-eyed gaze roamed from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, she shivered. Mercy goodness! If he could make her feel that warm by looking at her with one eye, how hot would she get if he had two?

“Eight,” she managed to answer. “Why?”

When he released her but didn’t answer, she watched him cross the room and pick up the phone. He punched a number on the keypad and waited. “Janet, can you bring me up a size eight swimsuit? No, just pick a pretty one and have it sent up to my quarters. Thanks.”

Carly wondered just who this man was who had come to her aid when she had needed it the most. “Are you going to tell me where we are?” she asked when he had finished the call.

“You’re in Shreveport, sugar. And this is The Devil’s Den, the biggest hotel and casino in the area.”

“And we’re in your…?” she asked.

“My suite.”

“And I suppose you own this place?”

“All seventy-five-thousand square feet of it. How old are you?”

“I’m old enough to gamble, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Her warmth went up another notch when he smiled at her. “You won’t mind not participating, will you?” he asked.

“I’ve never been in a casino, but—”

They were interrupted by the door buzzer, and he went to answer it. He didn’t open the door wide enough for her to see anything, but she heard him thank whoever it was, and then he turned to her with a beautiful aqua swimsuit on a hanger.

“There’s a nice pool downstairs,” he said, walking back to the table. “I thought you might enjoy a swim. While you’re doing that, I’ll find something else for you to wear. Anything more you need?”

The consequences of her actions the day before were quickly catching up with her. Now that he had told her about James, she was ashamed to admit that she didn’t have a penny on her. She had somehow managed to lose even the one tucked in her shoe for good luck.

“What?” he asked. “You don’t like to swim?”

She shook her head and then took a deep breath. “I can’t pay you.”

“So?”

“You’ve already been too kind to get me out of the scrape I was in. If it hadn’t been for you, well, I don’t know what would’ve happened at the church. As it is, I don’t know how I’ll repay you for your kindness, much less the swimsuit.”

“Forget it,” he said, with a wave of his hand. “We all get in a scrape from time to time.”

“But if I had just one nice outfit, I could look for a job, and I could pay you back with my first check.”

His mouth drew down in a frown. “Don’t worry about a job right now. You’ve been through a lot. You’re probably worn out. I hear planning a wedding can do that.”

“Well, yes,” she admitted. And so could planning how to dump the groom.

“We’ll find a way to work it out.”

“But I can’t stay here.”

His frown deepened. “Why not?”

“Why, because it…because I…” She stood and planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “Well, think about it. How would it look?”

He reached out, taking her hand, his smile slanted and his eye twinkling. “For you or for me?”

She had to force herself to swallow to kick-start her heart. “For either of us.”

Holding her hand, he gently guided her toward the bedroom. “Believe me, sugar, there isn’t much left of my reputation.”

What was he thinking of? Surely she hadn’t led him to think she was the kind of woman who would repay a man with sex. Mercy sakes! Hadn’t she just made the mistake of her life with one man? Had she made an even worse one by trusting this man?

She pulled away. “But—”

“But nothing. I’ll sleep on the sofa and you can have the bed.”

“But—”

He stopped in the doorway, silencing her with a shake of his head and handed her the swimsuit. “Get changed. I’ll meet you at the elevator on the ground floor and take you to the pool. As long as you stay out of the casino, you don’t have to worry about your reputation.”

“Oh. Okay.” The sudden disappointment she felt surprised her. Mercy goodness, she couldn’t have been hoping he had something else in mind.

As she walked into the bedroom, she heard him leave the suite, and she breathed a sigh of relief. What had come over her? For the past few days she had hardly known herself. She had always been a good daughter, but when she learned James had slept with Prissy, her impulse had been to run, and she had grabbed the chance. She hadn’t thought of her mama, only of herself. But even knowing deep in her heart how selfish that was, she simply couldn’t be sorry.

She definitely needed some time to sort through things. Maybe time would improve her bad judgment, and she would learn to be more cautious.

But here she was, practically living with a strange man. Even worse, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. What had come over her, indeed?

Chapter Three

“Mr. Brannigan?”

Dev looked up from his desk and smiled at his secretary. “Problems, Shirley?”

“Not for you,” she said with a shake of her gray curls. “For me and the rest of us here, who knows?”

She handed him an envelope, and he glanced at the return address. Norbert Jenkins of Miami, Florida. This wasn’t the first reply he’d received since getting word out that the Devil’s Den was for sale. But the others had been corporations, and he didn’t trust how they would treat the employees who stayed. That was the most important thing to him, as much as the amount of the bid. No matter who bought the place, he wouldn’t take a penny less than what it was worth. And it was worth a gambler’s fortune.

Grabbing a letter opener, he slit open the envelope and pulled out the neatly folded paper. He scanned it quickly, interested only in the offer. When he found it, his eyes widened. It was a fair and reasonable offer he could take with no qualms.

“I’ll handle this later, Shirley,” he said, filing the letter in a drawer. “Thanks for bringing it to my attention.”

She nodded, but hesitated as if she had something more to say. He suspected he knew what it was, and to keep peace, he thought it wise to hear her out. Again.

“Is there something else?” Leaning back in his chair, he waited for the inevitable.

She nodded and took the chair across the desk from him. “You know, we really aren’t excited to see the Den change ownership. Isn’t there some way you could keep from selling it and still do whatever it is you have to do?”

He couldn’t imagine going home to the Triple B Ranch while he still owned the casino. Not that his brothers would care what he’d been doing for the past fifteen years. But he had made up his mind long ago that if and when he returned home, he wouldn’t take along any reminders of the years he’d spent away. He wanted a clean break if his brothers allowed him to stay. It was time he did more than send money and pay for legal services they didn’t know about.

His younger brother, Trey, had gone against all odds and turned their childhood home into a dude ranch. Dev hadn’t been crazy about the idea, and Chace, the oldest, had been dead set against it in the beginning. But by all reports, they were doing well.

“No one can run the Devil’s Den like you can,” Shirley said, breaking into his thoughts.

“I appreciate your loyalty, Shirley, and that’s why I’m being particular about the buyer.”

“He may not have a staff to work with, once you’re gone.”

“That’s why I told all of you that I was considering the sale.” Dev rubbed at his right eye, thinking of the handful of people who’d jumped ship at the news. He’d been afraid he’d lose more than half of his employees, but he hadn’t counted on how loyal they’d been. Many of them, like Shirley and Greg, had become a surrogate family to him. But he wanted his real family, if they’d have him.

He stood and circled the desk, stopping in front of her. “I won’t sell it to anyone who’d be a hard taskmaster. You know that.”

“Yes, I do.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket, sniffed as she dabbed at her eyes and rose to her feet. “It’s just…well, it’s like you’re divorcing us or something.”

Dev chuckled and guided her to the door. “I’ll have to remember to demand visitation.”

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