Best Man's Conquest by Michelle Celmer Read Free Book Online Page A

lifted it to her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, a dreamy look on her face.
    The vendor behind the table said something, and she smiled and shook her head. A genuine, easy smile. One he hadn’t seen in a very long time. Even on the inside jacket of her book, which he had grudgingly skimmed at Barnes & Noble, she’d been all business. And near the end of their marriage neither had done much in the way of smiling. Not at each other, anyway.
    That had always been Ivy’s problem. She was too repressed and too driven. She’d never learned how to have fun. At least, not out of the bedroom. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t tried to teach her. They had been making good progress, then they got married and she did a one-eighty on him.
    After a bit of haggling, she reached into the pack she wore around her waist, pulled out several bills and handed them to the vendor. She slipped her purchase inside her pack and moved on to the next canopy.
    She looked so relaxed and serene. At peace with herself and the world.
    A grin curled his mouth. What better time to mosey up and say hello?
    â€œWell, well, what a coincidence,” he drawled from behind her in that counterfeit twang he knew grated on her nerves.
    Her hand stilled midair, just short of the colorful silk shawl she’d been about to look at, and every inch of her went rigid.
    This was too easy. Better than greeting her this morning in his underwear, although that had been pretty damned funny. She obviously hadn’t noticed the robe draped over the chair beside him.
    Still only seeing what she wanted to see, believing what she wanted to believe.
    Ivy paused and took a deep breath, as if gathering her strength—or May be her patience—then turned to face him. She’d sufficiently wiped any trace of emotion from her face, but she forgot who she was dealing with. He picked up on the subtle signs no one else noticed. The crinkle in her brow and the slight tightening of her jaw. The way she ground her teeth and narrowed her eyes the tiniest bit.
    Things she probably wasn’t even aware she was doing.
    She could pretend she wasn’t annoyed, but he knew better.
    â€œWhy do I sincerely doubt this is a coincidence?” she asked.
    He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with you bein’ somethin’ of a pessimist, now would it?”
    â€œWhat are you doing here?”
    He flashed her a grin and held up the bag he was carrying. “Souvenirs. For my secretary.”
    â€œLingerie?” she guessed.
    â€œNah. My preferences in sleepwear lean toward the casual. Oversize T-shirts…” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Or nothing at all.”
    She rolled her eyes.
    â€œNot to mention the fact that my secretary is sixty-eight.”
    â€œAren’t you supposed to be playing golf?”
    â€œShopping sounded like more fun.”
    She let an undignified snort slip out. “Now I know you’re lying. You love playing golf, and you always hated shopping.”
    â€œThat is true. It’s the company I wasn’t all that thrilled about. What was it you called them? The Tweedles?”
    It wasn’t a lie. He’d had more of those two than he could stomach at dinner last night. And torturing Ivy won out over golf any day of the week. He just had to accidentally bump into her, the way he’d “accidentally” walked into her room. What he hadn’t counted on last night was getting himself sucked into a touchy-feely debate about their failed marriage.
    She was still trying to pin the blame on him. No big surprise there.
    Miss Perfect. Miss Nothing-is-ever-good-enough-for-me. May be he’d made a mistake or two, minor ones, but if anyone was ultimately responsible for the divorce, it was her.
    And why had she assumed that what he’d done at dinner last night had anything to do with her? He was merely helping a friend. Blake was a good guy, the kind