care to sit down?”
Heather interrupted. “I believe Mr. McCord was just leaving.”
“Yes, I was,” he seconded.
A frown appeared between Winnie’s brows. “Is the wedding still set for tomorrow morning, then?”
Heather glanced hesitantly at Sloan, leaving the decision to him.
His jaw flexed for an instant, but then he forced a pained smile. “I suppose it is.”
Looking relieved, Winifred beamed. “Splendid! You just leave all the preparations to me.”
“I trust it’s nothing fancy, Winnie.”
“No, no. We’ll hold the ceremony here in the parlor, at ten o’clock. I’ve invited just a few friends, with a breakfast afterward. The train leaves tomorrow afternoon, I understand?”
“At one.”
“Do you have a place to stay, Sloan? You’re welcome here, of course, although it is bad luck for a groom to see his bride before the wedding.”
“I’m bunking not too far from the rail station. The Muleskinner Hotel.” He settled his Stetson on his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then,” he said, tipping his hat to Winifred yet scarcely glancing at his bride.
Heather politely accompanied him to the front door. She thought he might leave without a word, but he paused with his hand on the latch, looking down at her.
“I’ll be here tomorrow at eight sharp to collect your trunks and take them to the station.”
Her heart sank as she met his hard gaze. He was so cold… so businesslike. Far from the sensual man whose passionate kiss moments ago had set her head spinning and her body aching for some unnamed fulfillment.
“They will be ready.”
With no more than a brusque nod then, he left.
It took all Heather’s willpower not to slam the door behind him. She felt herself trembling, whether in outrage or nerves or self-disdain, she wasn’t certain. She couldn’t explain the effect Sloan McCord had on her, or why a man she barely knew had the power to rouse such fierce emotions in her.
Heather returned to the parlor reluctantly, unwilling to face the curiosity in Winnie’s blue eyes. The older lady had poured them each a cup of tea. Heather accepted her cup gratefully and sat beside her on the settee.
With her usual frankness, Winnie voiced her thoughts at once. “I declare, that man is potent.”
Heather let out her breath. He was indeed. She was still shivering from his embrace. However would her senses survive a lifetime with him? She shook herself mentally, not wanting to remember the sensation of his body pressed against hers, or the taste of his kiss. Or her own wanton response.It was shameful, the way her body had betrayed her.
She flushed as she felt Winifred’s penetrating gaze on her.
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you, dear?”
“A few,” Heather admitted truthfully.
“It’s only to be expected. All brides have wedding jitters. But this is the perfect solution for you both. It will solve your problems and his. You get your debts paid while he gains the ideal wife.”
“Winnie … I believe you misled me about his financial situation. Mr. McCord isn’t nearly as well off as I understood.”
The older woman’s blue eyes widened innocently. “Is he not?”
“No. But he insists on paying the money I owe Evan, even though he can’t afford it.”
Winnie considered that as she sipped her tea. “It’s only right that a husband take responsibility for his family. And the McCords are a proud bunch. Reminds me of someone else I know,” she added with a pointed glance at Heather. “You should let Sloan act as he sees fit.”
Heather’s gaze was troubled. “But it isn’t his debt.”
“It wasn’t yours, either,” Winnie said tartly. “It was your father’s. If Evan Randolf was half the gentleman he claims to be, he would have forgiven you those debts. Instead he used them to oblige you to him. I think you should count your blessings and consider yourself well out of it.”
Heather nodded slowly, remembering Evan’s shameful assault on
Heather interrupted. “I believe Mr. McCord was just leaving.”
“Yes, I was,” he seconded.
A frown appeared between Winnie’s brows. “Is the wedding still set for tomorrow morning, then?”
Heather glanced hesitantly at Sloan, leaving the decision to him.
His jaw flexed for an instant, but then he forced a pained smile. “I suppose it is.”
Looking relieved, Winifred beamed. “Splendid! You just leave all the preparations to me.”
“I trust it’s nothing fancy, Winnie.”
“No, no. We’ll hold the ceremony here in the parlor, at ten o’clock. I’ve invited just a few friends, with a breakfast afterward. The train leaves tomorrow afternoon, I understand?”
“At one.”
“Do you have a place to stay, Sloan? You’re welcome here, of course, although it is bad luck for a groom to see his bride before the wedding.”
“I’m bunking not too far from the rail station. The Muleskinner Hotel.” He settled his Stetson on his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then,” he said, tipping his hat to Winifred yet scarcely glancing at his bride.
Heather politely accompanied him to the front door. She thought he might leave without a word, but he paused with his hand on the latch, looking down at her.
“I’ll be here tomorrow at eight sharp to collect your trunks and take them to the station.”
Her heart sank as she met his hard gaze. He was so cold… so businesslike. Far from the sensual man whose passionate kiss moments ago had set her head spinning and her body aching for some unnamed fulfillment.
“They will be ready.”
With no more than a brusque nod then, he left.
It took all Heather’s willpower not to slam the door behind him. She felt herself trembling, whether in outrage or nerves or self-disdain, she wasn’t certain. She couldn’t explain the effect Sloan McCord had on her, or why a man she barely knew had the power to rouse such fierce emotions in her.
Heather returned to the parlor reluctantly, unwilling to face the curiosity in Winnie’s blue eyes. The older lady had poured them each a cup of tea. Heather accepted her cup gratefully and sat beside her on the settee.
With her usual frankness, Winnie voiced her thoughts at once. “I declare, that man is potent.”
Heather let out her breath. He was indeed. She was still shivering from his embrace. However would her senses survive a lifetime with him? She shook herself mentally, not wanting to remember the sensation of his body pressed against hers, or the taste of his kiss. Or her own wanton response.It was shameful, the way her body had betrayed her.
She flushed as she felt Winifred’s penetrating gaze on her.
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you, dear?”
“A few,” Heather admitted truthfully.
“It’s only to be expected. All brides have wedding jitters. But this is the perfect solution for you both. It will solve your problems and his. You get your debts paid while he gains the ideal wife.”
“Winnie … I believe you misled me about his financial situation. Mr. McCord isn’t nearly as well off as I understood.”
The older woman’s blue eyes widened innocently. “Is he not?”
“No. But he insists on paying the money I owe Evan, even though he can’t afford it.”
Winnie considered that as she sipped her tea. “It’s only right that a husband take responsibility for his family. And the McCords are a proud bunch. Reminds me of someone else I know,” she added with a pointed glance at Heather. “You should let Sloan act as he sees fit.”
Heather’s gaze was troubled. “But it isn’t his debt.”
“It wasn’t yours, either,” Winnie said tartly. “It was your father’s. If Evan Randolf was half the gentleman he claims to be, he would have forgiven you those debts. Instead he used them to oblige you to him. I think you should count your blessings and consider yourself well out of it.”
Heather nodded slowly, remembering Evan’s shameful assault on
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