“Like me?”
She smiled and Luke noticed how the expression momentarily sparked her eyes.
“Like you,” she agreed. “Kat hasn’t mentioned Three Rivers hiring a new horse trainer. But with school just getting back into the swing of things, we’ve been very busy. Have you been here long?”
“Six weeks. I’m living here on the ranch in a house down by the river. I think it was originally built years ago, for Maureen’s mother. They tell me she passed on not long after she moved into it.”
She nodded slightly. “I’m familiar with the place. Do you like living in such a secluded area?”
“It’s perfect for me. I’ve always lived in the country. What about you?”
She let out a little laugh. “No, I’m a city girl. Originally from Palm Springs, California. But for the past thirteen years I’ve lived in Wickenburg. From big city to a small-town girl. That’s me.”
“You must like it,” he said. “Thirteen years is a long time.”
“Yes—I like it.”
She let out a long breath that sounded something like a sigh and Luke figured he was probably boring her. In fact, if he wanted to be a real gentleman, he’d excuse himself and allow her to go on her way. But at this very moment he was so transfixed with her that his brain refused to accept the idea of giving up her company.
Grabbing at the first reason he could think of to delay their parting, he asked, “Have you tried the champagne yet?”
“I haven’t had anything to drink or eat. To be honest, I was a bit late getting here. At the last minute, I realized my car needed gas to make the long trip out here to the ranch,” she said, then with a self-deprecating shake of her head added, “Most schoolteachers are hopelessly disorganized, even though we’re supposed to be the exact opposite. That’s why I have Kat. She keeps everything perfectly straight for me.”
“In that case, let’s walk over to the bar,” he suggested. “You can’t be at a wedding reception and miss having champagne. Or would you rather go by the buffet tables first?”
“I’m really not hungry. Something to drink is all I need,” she told him.
She turned in the direction of the bar and Luke gently caught her by the elbow. She paused and looked at him questioningly.
“Uh—I thought I’d better ask if you’re meeting someone here at the reception. I wouldn’t want to interrupt your plans.”
“You mean like a date?” She shook her head. “I’m all alone.”
“You aren’t alone now.” Grinning, he offered her his arm. “You might need something to hold on to. Just in case you trip again.”
Laughing softly, she placed her dainty hand on his forearm and Luke suddenly felt like he was a foot taller. What in the heck was going on with him? Two glasses of champagne were hardly enough to give him a buzz.
“I’ll try not to let that happen,” she said.
He placed his free hand over the one she’d rested on his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep a hold on you.”
Prudence didn’t allow any man to hold her. Not in any way, shape or form. Yet here she was walking through the reception crowd with Luke Crawford’s hand resting warmly over hers.
No. The man’s hand wasn’t just warm, she mentally corrected herself. It was as hot as the Arizona sun in mid-July. Only this wasn’t July. It was the beginning of September and the cool evening air was already drifting over the ranch yard. But it was hardly enough to chill the sparks of fire that seemed to be shooting from his hand and traveling all the way up her arm.
What was wrong with her, anyway? She should’ve already given Luke Crawford a polite goodbye and lost herself in the crowd. But she’d been stunned when she’d recognized his was the face her eyes had locked onto in the church. And then when he’d made a sandwich of her hand, she’d been so captivated she couldn’t do much more than stammer out a few inane words.
As they walked along, she peeked at him from the corner of her eye. Just to see if he actually looked as good as he had a few minutes ago, or if the golden sunset was playing tricks with her eyesight.
Now that the wedding party had moved here to the ranch, he’d donned a black cowboy hat that rode low on his forehead and covered the top portion of his thick black hair. His angular face was dominated by amber-brown eyes hooded beneath black brows, while hard, masculine lips set over a stubborn dented chin. Like most men who worked outdoors in the Southwest, he was darkly tanned, but she had the feeling that part of his brown coloring came from Native American descent. The high slanted cheekbones and hawkish nose certainly hinted at the notion. In any case, the man was too sexy for his own good and definitely too sexy for her peace of mind.
“Here we are,” he said as the two of them finally managed to work their way up to the bar. “Would you like champagne or something nonalcoholic?”
Being in his company was already causing her head to swim. She hardly needed alcohol to make the whirling sensation any worse. But Luke was right about one thing: a person could hardly attend a wedding reception without consuming a bit of champagne. Besides, if she was lucky, it would settle her jangled nerves and allow her to behave like a reserved woman, rather than a ditzy schoolgirl.
“I’ll take champagne,” she told him.
After the bartender promptly served them each a glass of the bubbly wine, Luke suggested they find a spot to sit and enjoy their drinks.
“I’m not sure my boots can take another soaking,” he added with a wink.
Prudence laughed
