Lone Star Wedding Read Online Free Page B

feeling of satisfaction settled over him. No matter what she pretended, she was aware of him. He’d venture a little further to say she was attracted to him, too.
    â€œNice night.”
    She glanced at the guests, the orchestra, and the lawns far beyond the patio, and slowly nodded.
    â€œHannah?”
    She turned her head very slowly, and looked up at him. There was a softness in her eyes, and a directness he liked very much. “Ryan was right about that orchestra. They’re very good. Would you care to dance?”
    She hesitated, as if surprised by his question. “As a matter of fact,” she said, the sound of her voice as dusky as secrets whispered in the dark, “I would love to.”
    Parker felt the way he did when he was nearing the end of an intense game of chess. Victory was close. Check.
    She smiled sweetly at him. And he reacted in the most basic and masculine way.
    He reached for her hand, but she’d backed up. Increasing the distance between them, she lowered her voice and said, “Perhaps if you combed the numbers on a public rest room wall, you could find someone to accommodate you.”
    He watched through narrowed eyes as she stopped a dozen feet away to speak to her brother, Cole. She didn’t glance back at Parker, but when she dragged her brother onto the dance floor, Parker got her message loud and clear. She wanted to dance. Just not with him.
    Checkmate.
    Parker considered himself a reasonable man, but he still saw red. He wasn’t accustomed to having his overtures rejected, dammit. Although he had to admit her technique had been noteworthy.
    Everything about Hannah Cassidy was noteworthy.
    He’d noticed her when she’d first arrived. Every hair on his body had raised slightly, as if he was standing too close to an electric fence. He’d been on sensory overload ever since. It wasn’t the color of her dress that made such animpression, but the lack of color. It was a pale shade of brown, so close to the color of her skin that at first glance it almost appeared as if she wasn’t wearing anything at all. Almost. Every man in the universe knew just how provocative almost could be.
    The dress was semi-transparent from the knees down, and if you looked close, in a three-inch band around her waist. It left her shoulders bare, but wasn’t low cut in the front or in the back. It was the kind of dress a woman who neither felt compelled to flaunt her body nor hide it wore. That such a woman existed was an intriguing concept, one Parker would have to ponder later. Hannah wore no necklace or rings. He’d checked her left hand twice. Her hair appeared darker beneath the twinkle of hundreds of tiny lights, a few tresses curling down her neck and in front of her ears, the rest secured high in the back with a single brown comb.
    He didn’t know much about her. He sure hadn’t had any luck garnering information from the waiter who’d dumped chocolate mousse on his tie, or from the eccentric blonde who owned The Pink Flamingo, although he was certain she had been withholding information. Still, Parker hadn’t had to ask who Hannah was tonight. He’d known the moment he’d seen her standing next to Lily Cassidy. Although the eyes and color preferences were different, the resemblance between mother and daughter was unmistakable.
    He was still watching Hannah when his father materialized out of a nearby crowd. Ice cubes clinked in the bottom of the older man’s empty glass. “Ryan Fortune is as stubborn as a mule, but his bourbon is the best money can buy.”
    J. D. Malone was an inch shorter than his son and kept his weight within fifteen pounds of what it had been whenhe was young. Women enjoyed him. Men either feared him or revered him. Few actually liked him. Most of the time, the jury was out as to where Parker stood in regard to his father. “I take it you haven’t had any luck talking sense into Ryan