Полная версия
Little Secrets: Claiming His Pregnant Bride
Has this runaway bride found the man of her dreams?
Restless—that’s businessman and biker Seth Bolton. But when he rescues runaway bride Kate Burroughs, he wants more than he should with the lush mom-to-be. He’s never been one to settle down, and he already has plans to leave. The best he can offer Kate is a no-strings fling...
And in spite of her better judgment, Kate says yes to Seth. She needs what he can give her, for however long it lasts. But soon they’ll both have choices to make. She left the wrong man at the altar... Will Seth turn out to be the right one?
“I don’t need you to save me.”
“That’s not what this is.” But even as he said it, he wasn’t entirely sure that was the truth. He didn’t think about it in terms of saving her. He thought about it in terms of helping. Of course, why he felt this compulsion to help Kate was another question that he didn’t want to investigate too deeply right now.
“Then tell me what this is about. The truth, Seth.”
The truth? Hell. The truth was he was worried about her. He couldn’t stop fantasizing about her. He was glad that she hadn’t married Roger. He knew how hard single mothers had it and he didn’t want it to be that hard for her. It shouldn’t be that hard for anyone, but especially not for her.
He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he closed the distance between them and cupped her face in his hands. “This,” he said, lowering his lips to hers, “is the truth.”
* * *
Little Secrets: Claiming His Pregnant Bride is part of the Little Secrets series: Untamed passion, unexpected pregnancy…
Little Secrets: Claiming His Pregnant Bride
Sarah M. Anderson
www.millsandboon.co.uk
SARAH M. ANDERSON may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. Sarah’s book A Man of Privilege won an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award in 2012. The Nanny Plan was a 2016 RITA® Award winner for Contemporary Romance: Short.
Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and billionaires. Find out more about Sarah’s heroes at www.sarahmanderson.com and sign up for the new-release newsletter at www.eepurl.com/nv39b.
To everyone who stood up for what they believed. You continue to inspire me!
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Epilogue
Extract
Copyright
One
Of all the things Seth Bolton wanted to be doing today, attending the wedding of a guy he went to college with was pretty low on the list.
Besides, he hadn’t even liked Roger Caputo. Seth had been forced to live with Roger for three hellish months in college when Seth’s roommate had backed out and Seth had been desperate to cover the rent without asking his family for help. That Roger had been a senior and unable to get any roommate but a freshman should have been the first clue to how Seth’s three months were going to go.
It wasn’t that Roger was a bad guy—he was just a jerk. Entitled, spoiled, inconsiderate—every privileged white-guy stereotype rolled into one. That was Roger.
Seth couldn’t imagine who was foolish enough to marry Roger, but clearly someone was. Seth had no idea if he should pity this woman or not.
He gunned the engine up the incline, following the road as it snaked through the Black Hills. The wedding was supposed to start at five thirty—Seth was running late. It was already five forty and he had at least fifteen miles to go.
For some reason, the wedding was being held at a resort deep in the Black Hills, forty minutes away from Rapid City.
Why did people have destination weddings? Well, he knew why. The late-summer sun was already lower in the sky, casting a shimmering glow over the hills. They weren’t black right now, not with the sun turning them golden shades of orange and red and pink at the edges.
It was pretty—not that he was looking as he took the next curve even faster. Roger must’ve found one hell of a woman if she wanted to tie herself to him with all this beauty around her.
Or maybe the jerk had changed. It was possible. After all, Seth himself had once been the kind of impulsive, restless kid who’d stolen a car and punched a grown man in the face because the man had dared to break Seth’s mother’s heart. Sure, that man—Billy Bolton—had married his mother and adopted Seth, despite the punch. But still, that was the sort of thing Seth used to be capable of.
Maybe he was still a little impulsive, he thought as he flew down the road well over the speed limit. And yeah, he was definitely still restless. The last year living in Los Angeles had proved that. But he’d gotten good at controlling his more destructive tendencies.
So people could change. Maybe Roger had become a fine, upstanding citizen.
The road bent around an outcropping, and Seth leaned into the curve, the Crazy Horse chopper rumbling between his legs. This was a brand-new model, in the final stages of testing, and he was putting it through its paces. The new engine had throwback styling combined with modern power and a wider wheelbase. The machine handled beautifully as he took another curve and leaned in hard. Seth felt a surge of pride—he’d helped design this one.
Damn, he’d missed these hills, the freedom to open up the throttle and ride it hard. LA traffic made actually riding a chopper a challenge. And palm trees had nothing on the Black Hills.
His father and his uncles, Ben and Bobby Bolton, owned and operated Crazy Horse Choppers, a custom chop shop in Rapid City, South Dakota. Crazy Horse had been founded by their father, Bruce Bolton, but the Bolton brothers had taken the company from a one-man shop in Bruce’s garage in the early eighties to a company with sixty employees and a quarter of a billion in sales every year.
Seth had never had a father growing up, never expected that he would be a part of any family business. But when Billy adopted Seth ten years ago, the Bolton men had embraced him with open arms.
And now? Seth was a full partner in Crazy Horse Choppers.
He still couldn’t get his head around the meeting yesterday. His dad and uncles had called him into the office and offered him an equal share in Crazy Horse. And Seth was no idiot. Of course he’d said yes.
At the age of twenty-five, he was suddenly a millionaire. A multimillionaire. Considering how he and his mom had sometimes been on welfare when he was a little kid, it was a hell of a shock.
But Seth knew it wasn’t straight nepotism—he worked hard at making Crazy Horse Choppers a successful business. He’d just gotten back from living in Los Angeles for a year, managing the Crazy Horse showroom and convincing every A-to D-list celebrity that a Crazy Horse chopper was good for their image. And he’d excelled at the job, too. Getting Rich McClaren to ride up the red carpet at the Oscars on a Crazy Horse chopper—right before he won the award? Seth’s idea. The free advertising from that had boosted sales by eight percent overnight.
The McClaren stunt was the kind of strategic thinking that Seth did now. He didn’t just react—and react poorly. He planned. The best defense was a good offense.
Even now—he wasn’t just going to a former friend’s wedding. A quick internet search had revealed that Roger was a real estate agent now, part owner in his own agency. He was up-and-coming in the civic world of Rapid City. And after a year in LA, Seth was back in Rapid City. Maybe even permanently.
Seth was not going to this wedding to wish Roger and his new bride happiness, although he would. Seth was going to the wedding because he planned to be an up-and-comer himself. God knew that he had the money now.
The Bolton men might have given him a place at the table, but Seth was going to damn well keep it.
He screamed around a curve but saw something that made him ease off the throttle. There was a limo at a scenic overlook—but something wasn’t right. Seth couldn’t brake fast enough to stop without crashing, but he slowed enough to get a better look.
Something was definitely wrong. The limo was parked at a crazy angle, its bumper hanging in the roadway. Was there someone behind the wheel? He didn’t see anyone enjoying the view.
He was late—but he couldn’t in good conscience ride on. Seth pulled a U-turn on the road and headed back to the overlook. Did his phone even have service out here? Because if this wasn’t some crazy wedding photographer stunt and the driver was having an emergency...
The limo was still running when Seth pulled up alongside it. His heart leaped in his throat when he realized that the front wheel on the passenger side wasn’t exactly on solid ground. The driver had stopped just before the wheel went off the edge of the overlook completely. Hitting the gas would mean certain death.
He hopped off the bike and hurried to the driver’s side. He hadn’t been wrong—there was someone behind the wheel. A woman. Wearing a wedding dress and a...tiara?
Definitely not the limo driver.
She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were wide as she stared at nothing in particular. Her color was terrible, a bluish shade of gray, and she had what appeared to be a death grip on the steering wheel. Basically, she looked like someone had shot her dog. Or ruined her wedding.
For all of that, she was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
How many brides were wandering around this part of South Dakota? Was this Roger’s bride? If so, what was she doing here? Where was Roger?
He knocked on the glass of the driver’s-side door. “Ma’am?” he said in what he hoped was a comforting voice. “Could you roll down the window?”
She didn’t move.
“Excuse me? Ma’am?” This time, he tried the handle. Miracle of miracles, the door was not locked. When he opened it, she startled and swung her head around to look at him. As she did so, the limo shuddered. “Where did you come from?”
“Hi,” Seth said in a soothing voice, hanging on to the door as if that could keep the car from plummeting off the side of the hill. “I’m going to turn this off, okay?”
Her eyes blinked at different speeds. “What?”
Seth leaned into the limo, keeping an eye on her in case she started to freak out. The limo was actually in Park, thank God. She must have taken her foot off the brake when he startled her. “I’m Seth,” he told her, pulling the key from the ignition. “What’s your name?”
Seth didn’t expect her to burst out laughing as if he had told a joke. Clearly, this was a woman whose actions could not be predicted. Then, as quickly as she’d started laughing, the sound died in the back of her throat and she made a strangled-sounding sob. “I’m not sure.”
Bad sign. He had to get her out of the limo. “Can you come talk to me? There’s a bench over there with a great view of the sunset.” He tried to make it sound like he was just here for the vista.
“You not going to tell me to get married, are you?”
Seth shook his head. “You’re here for reasons. All of those reasons—I bet they’re good ones.”
She blinked at him again, her brow furrowed. He could see that she was coming back to herself now. “Are you here for a reason, too?”
He gave her a reassuring smile. “Everything happens for a reason.”
This time, when she started laughing, he was ready for it. He chuckled along with her as if they were at a comedy club in downtown LA as opposed to on the edge of a scenic overlook in the Black Hills. He held out a hand to her and bowed at the waist. “Seth Bolton, at your disposal.”
For the longest second, she just stared at him, as if he were a Tyrannosaurus rex that had emerged from the undergrowth and was roaring at her. “I’m not imagining you, right? Because you’re kind of perfect and I made a mess of everything.”
“I’m very real—the last time I checked, anyway,” he joked, which got a small, quick smile out of her. He kept his hand out, the picture of a chivalrous gentleman. Take it, he thought. He would feel so much better if she were on solid ground next to him.
She placed her hand in his and it took everything he had not to close his fingers around hers and yank her out of the driver’s seat—and into his arms. Instead, he tightened his grip on her ever so slightly and waited as she swung her feet out and stood. Her layers of dress settled around her—silk and satin and chiffon and all of those fabrics that his aunt Stella made dresses out of for her fashion line.
He didn’t think this was one of Stella’s dresses. Stella designed classic gowns that looked deceptively simple. This gown?
There wasn’t anything simple about it. The bride looked a little bit like an overdone cupcake, with sparkles and sprinkles. The skirt was huge, with tiers and layers of ruffles and lace. How had she even fit behind the wheel in that monstrosity?
Her golden-brown hair was swept up into some elaborate confection that matched the dress, but at some point it had tilted off its bearings and now listed dangerously to the left. Pearls dripped off her ears and around her neck, but her ring finger was bare.
What did she look like when she wasn’t dressed up like a bride? All he could see of her was her face and her bare shoulders. And her cleavage, which was kind of amazing—not that he was looking. His body tightened with awareness even as he tried to focus on her eyes. It didn’t help, staring down into her face. Everything tugged him toward her with an instinctive pull that wasn’t something he’d planned on, much less could control.
His first instinct had been right—she was gorgeous, he realized as she lifted her gaze to his. A sweetheart face, wide-set eyes that were the deepest shade of green he’d ever seen. The kind of eyes a man could get lost in, if he weren’t careful.
Seth was careful. Always.
He knew exactly what happened when a man lost his head around a woman. So it was final—no losing himself in her eyes. Or any other of her body parts. She might be a goddess, but she was obviously having a very bad day and he wasn’t about to do a single damn thing that would make it worse.
So he locked down this intense awareness of her.
She wasn’t for him. All he could—and should—do was offer her a helping hand.
“Hi.” He launched another smile, one that had broken a few hearts, in her direction. “I’m Seth,” he repeated because he honestly wasn’t sure if she’d processed it the first time.
“Kate,” she replied in a shaky voice. She hadn’t pulled her hand away from his yet. Seth took an experimental step back—away from the limo—and was pleased when she followed. “I... I’m not sure what my last name is right now. I don’t think I got married. I’m pretty sure I left before that part.”
In his time, Seth had seen people involved in accidents still walking and talking and functioning almost normally because they were in a complete state of shock. Big dudes thrown from choppers and yet walking around and cracking jokes with one of their arms hanging out of the socket. Later, when the adrenaline had worn off, they’d felt the pain. But not at first.
Was this what this was? Had she been hurt? He looked her over as surreptitiously as he could, but he didn’t see any injuries—so this was just a mental shock, then.
“Kate,” he said, his voice warm and friendly. “That’s a pretty name. What would you like your last name to be?
“Burroughs,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to be Kate Caputo. I can’t be.”
Seth let out a careful breath. That answered that question.
He had found Roger’s runaway bride.
Two
Kate felt like she was moving in a dream. Everything was blurry at the edges—but getting sharper. How much time had she lost? A couple of hours? A couple of days? The last thing she remembered was...
She had been sitting in the little room set aside for the bride to get ready, staring at the mirror and fighting back the rising tide of nausea. Because she was pregnant and she was supposed to be marrying Roger and—and—
“Easy,” a strong, confident male voice said.
She looked down to see that her hand was being held by a man who was not Roger and they were not at the lodge she had especially selected for the beautiful sunset. She looked around, startling again. None of this looked familiar. Especially not him. She’d remember him. “I don’t...”
The man’s arm went around her waist and even though she didn’t know who he was or what was going on, she leaned into his touch. It felt right—comforting. Safe. Whoever he was, he was safe. Maybe it was all going to be okay. She could have cried with relief.
“I’ve got you,” he said, sounding so very calm when there was nothing to be calm about. “It’s all right.”
She laughed at that. “No, it’s not.”
“It’s not as bad as you think, I promise. Roger will get over this, and so will you.”
She wasn’t sure she believed that, but his arm tightened around her waist. Kate couldn’t have said if she leaned on him or if he picked her up or how, exactly, she got to the bench. All she could focus on was this man—with dark hair and dark eyes and tanned skin, wearing a motorcycle jacket over what looked like a pair of suit trousers. He sat her down on the bench and then took a seat next to her. “You’re cold,” he said, picking up her hand and rubbing it between his.
“Am I?” Yes, now that she thought about it, she could feel a chill in the air. The way he spoke to her called to mind someone trying to capture a bird with a broken wing.
Then something he’d said sank in. “You...you know Roger?”
The man—Seth? Had he said that was his name? Seth nodded. “I lived with him in college.” He stood and peeled off his leather jacket and even though Kate was having a terrible day, she was struck by how nicely this strange, sympathetic man filled out a button-up shirt. He even had on a tie—but somehow, it didn’t look stuffy. It looked dangerous, almost. “Frankly, I think you’re doing the right thing,” he went on as he settled his jacket around her shoulders. “Assuming he hasn’t seen the light and become a better human, that is.”
“No, I don’t think he has,” she said slowly. His jacket was warm and soft, and she immediately felt a hundred times better. She had been cold for far too long. It was good to realize there could still be warmth in the world.
Then she realized what she’d said. “I didn’t mean that,” she quickly corrected, feeling the heat rise in her face. She blinked. Seth was staring at her with a level of focus that she wasn’t used to. Roger certainly didn’t listen to her like this.
But even thinking that made her feel terrible. She was supposed to be marrying Roger and she wasn’t. She didn’t have to add insult to injury by—well, by insulting him. “I mean, he’s not a bad guy. He’s a great catch.” On paper.
On paper, Roger was handsome and educated, a successful small-business man. On paper he was perfect.
She couldn’t marry a piece of paper.
She was supposed to be marrying a flesh-and-blood man who didn’t love her. She was fairly certain about that.
“Even if he somehow magically turned into a great catch—which I doubt,” Seth said, fishing something out of his pants pockets and sitting next to her, “that doesn’t mean he’s a great catch for you.”
Her breath caught in her throat as he closed the distance between them. As he lifted her chin and stared into her eyes, Kate knew she should pull away. She couldn’t let this stranger kiss her. That wasn’t who she was.
She was Kate Burroughs. Only child to Joe and Kathleen Burroughs. A real estate agent who worked for her parents at Burroughs Realty—which was now Burroughs and Caputo Realty.
She didn’t make waves. She did the right thing, always. She got good grades and sold houses. She didn’t get unexpectedly pregnant. She most definitely didn’t leave her groom at the altar, and under no circumstances could she be attracted to a man who wasn’t her fiancé.
At least, that was who she’d been yesterday. It seemed pretty obvious that she wasn’t that same woman today.
He had such nice eyes. A deep brown, soft and kind and yet still with an air of danger to him. He was dangerous to her, that much was clear, because he was going to kiss her and she was going let him and that was something the woman she’d been yesterday never would have allowed, much less entertained.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said softly. Then he touched her cheeks. With a handkerchief.
Kate hadn’t realized she was crying until Seth dabbed at her cheeks.
When he was done, Seth pressed the handkerchief into her hand and leaned back. She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she got even more embarrassed. Really, Kate? Really? She wasn’t even close to holding it together and she wanted to kiss this complete stranger?
She’d lost her mind. It was the only rational explanation.
She was relieved when Seth turned his gaze back out to the landscape. The sun was getting lower and the world was crimson and red. “Bolting on a wedding,” he said slowly, “may not be cheap and it may not be easy. You may feel...”
“Like an idiot,” she said bitterly.
“Confused,” Seth corrected. “You’re trying to talk yourself into going back, but your instincts made you leave. And it’s a good idea to listen to your instincts.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Your parents didn’t shell out thousands of dollars on a fairy-tale wedding and invite hundreds of guests, all of whom are probably wondering where the hell you are and what’s wrong with you.”
He made a huffing noise, as if she’d said something idiotic instead of stating the facts of the matter. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but your parents aren’t marrying Roger. None of the guests are, either. You can put on a good show for them because of the sunk cost of the reception, but at the end of the day you’re the one who has to go home with him. For the rest of your life.” She shuddered involuntarily. Seth put his arm around her shoulders and, weak as she was, she leaned into his chest. He went on, “If he hasn’t changed, then you don’t want to be stuck with him.”
She sniffed. She knew she was crying again, but she was powerless to stop. Seth was warm and he smelled good and it was okay if she cried. “I don’t. I really don’t.”
“Leaving him at the altar is cheaper and easier than getting a divorce,” he said with finality. “Better to feel foolish now than to wake up tomorrow knowing you’ve made a huge mistake. Besides, if you realize you should have married him, you can still do that. If he really loves you, he’ll understand.”
That was what she needed to hear, because that was the truth that she felt in her heart. She was making a horrible mess for Roger and her parents, and she didn’t want to humiliate him or their families and friends.