The Bride Tamer by Ann Major Read Free Book Online Page A

dreamed that she’d spent half the night on top of Isabela’s future husband, her mouth and tongue running wild over his wide brown chest and throat. He’d hauled her closer, so close she’d felt his hardness against her pelvis. Just the memory made her toes curl against the tile floor.
    Vivian wasn’t good at hiding her feelings—a major flaw—especially when she had a guilty conscience. She’d die of mortification if she blushed and simpered like a schoolgirl with her first crush when Isabela introduced them at breakfast.
    Isabela trusted her.
    Just thinking about the way his lips had caressed every part of her body made her cringe. Even so, she imagined it all again…
    She had to get a grip, to clear her mind of such treacherous, misplaced longings. She didn’t even know him!
    It was beautiful outside—the stars bright against an ink-dark sky. Vivian gazed out the window at the Big Dipper and then the North Star. If the days in Mérida broiled a person, April nights were romantically lush and sweet-scented.
    She knew her way around the dark bathroom, so she didn’t bother to turn on the light, not even when she heard a sound from the next room. Then she groped for her bathing suit, which should have been hanging from the towel rack by thetub. Only when it wasn’t there did she flip on the light to look for it. Seven gilded mirrors—Isabela went in for overstated opulence—lit and reflected every inch of Vivian’s soft, creamy skin. Her red hair was tousled and fell about her shoulders.
    Momentarily blinded, she shielded her eyes with her hand while they adjusted to the glare. Quickly she lowered the window shade. She moved languidly, at ease with her seven reflections even though she was naked—until she removed her hand from the light switch and fumbled on the counter for her bikini. Her brain didn’t register what her eyes saw for a second or two.
    Her bikini wasn’t there.
    She squinted, focusing on a scarred leather bag with the initials C.M. carved in the middle. It was a man’s expensive suitcase, and it had no business lying closed on that luggage rack with an expensive pair of black silk slacks dripping out of it.
    On the white tile counter, a man’s electric razor was plugged into a wall socket. Her eyes darted to the bottle of aftershave and the squashed tube of toothpaste right beside it. Last of all she saw the bra of her red bikini stuffed in a far corner behind Isabela’s bronze flamingos.
    She was reaching for her bikini when a deep, throaty voice that was rough with sleep came from the direction of the sofa bed near the pool table.
    â€œWow! Who the hell are you—Sleeping Beauty?” The man’s heavy breathing seemed to grow more ragged on every word he uttered.
    Don’t, please, don’t you dare be Cash McRay!
    Of course he was Cash.
    She knew who he was even though her desperate mind fought to deny it. His sexy passionate voice turned her to mush.
    Concho yawned sleepily. Paws crossed under his wet nose,the canine ingrate was curled up at the end of Cash’s sofa bed as if he belonged there.
    Her nipples went as hard as rubies. All she had to do was take a flying leap into that bed to make her dream come true.
    Isabela… This isn’t happening.
    Suddenly Vivian was trembling and digging her nails into her palms. Next, she was jabbing frantically at the light switch.
    â€œSo, you’re the girl who goes with the itty-bitty, red bikini? You’re taller than I pictured you. Bigger at the top, too.”
    When she missed the switch on the first try, she cried out in sheer frustration.
    He laughed. “I was having a nightmare when you barged into my dreams.”
    â€œYou too?” Her glance shot toward him and her skinny dog.
    Half covered in the sheet, Cash looked long and sleek and brown, and very masculine. His shoulders were wide, his chest matted with dark hair.
    Her mouth