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

went dry, but she got wet in other places. Suddenly, it was all she could do to remember to breathe, much less act like any normal, modest, sensible young woman, who found herself naked in a complete stranger’s bedroom in the middle of the night.
    As she stood there, seconds ticked by—as if she were paralyzed or hypnotized.
    â€œThis weird barber had me tied to his chair” came that deep beautiful voice from the bed.
    â€œWhat are you talking about?” she whispered.
    â€œI dreamed about a crazy barber.”
    â€œI don’t want to hear this.”
    â€œI told him not to cut much of my hair off, but he had an electric razor, and he’d already taken a swipe at my scalp. ‘Oops,’ he said. I wanted to kill him, but it was a dream, so I just lay there.”
    Like I’m just standing here—as if this is a dream and I’ll wake up and everything will be back to normal.
    â€œThen he put a bowl on my head and began to shave the hair off around my ears and neckline.”
    Turn off the light, dummy.
    Vivian clamped down on her tongue with her teeth. The coppery flavor of blood and the shooting pain brought her to her senses. Quick as a flash, she hit the switch, and the room went mercifully black.
    â€œForget you ever saw me,” she mumbled, her hot body sagging against the cool tiled wall because her legs had turned to jelly.
    â€œYou must be the sister-in-law,” he murmured dryly. “The one who didn’t want to meet me.”
    â€œNo! I’m not her! And I don’t know her. And you don’t either,” she replied, panicked.
    English. He was speaking English. Real American English. She loved to hear Americans talking in the street because the sound of her native tongue with its flat vowels reminded her of home. Just the sound of his voice made her long for a normal life with a purpose and a future.
    Just the sound of it made her body heat and throb and her heart long for her wanton dream to come true.
    â€œWhat do you think my dream meant?” he asked conversationally.
    She could hear every raspy breath she took. “I—I don’t care! It was a ridiculous dream!”
    â€œNot to me. I’m most particular about letting some freak mess with my hair. It means something. Trust me.”
    â€œLook! I just had a nightmare myself—and it meant nothing!” She spoke in a frantic whisper as she moved away from the wall and began to fumble in the dark for her bathrobe, cursing when her fingers were shaking too violently to pull it on. “Damn!”
    â€œTell me your dream, and I’ll tell you what it meant,” he offered.
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œTrust me, I’m good at this,” he said.
    She almost moaned.
    Bed sheets rustled. Not good. “You stay right where you are!” she screeched, backing toward the shower, stumbling over two objects that felt like a pair of large shoes.
    â€œI liked the light on,” he said. “The view was better.”
    â€œWell, I don’t. And I don’t want to know who you are. Or hear about your hair. I want to forget I ever met you—”
    Liar. She wanted to lick his long, lean body, to taste him. No. That was a dream.
    â€œThe name’s Cash. Cash McRay. And I damn sure want to know the name of the naked lady who saved me from a fiend with hair clippers. I was drenched in sweat from terror—and then there you were, like Venus arising from the sea to rescue me. Exquisite Aphrodite.”
    She groaned aloud. She’d dreamed about getting naked on top of him. Now her future brother-in-law had seen her in her birthday suit and was waxing poetic. Her heart was racing.
    â€œWe are not part of some myth!” she snapped.
    â€œYou gonna tell me about your dream?”
    Why didn’t men ever, just once, do what they were supposed to do? “Why aren’t you in the guest suite where you belong? Or better yet, in