Once Upon a Wedding / Accidental Princess: Once Upon a Wedding / Accidental Princess

“I don’t like Mexican food.”

He shook his head. “Poor Kelsey. Can’t take the heat, huh?”

They stopped at a red light, and she risked a glance at him. He still wore those darn sunglasses, but she didn’t need to look into his eyes to read his thoughts. He was here to win back Emily and show the Wilsons and the rest of the world they’d underestimated him all those years ago. But until then, he’d kill some time by flirting with her.

Kelsey didn’t know why the thought hurt so much. After all, it wasn’t the first time a man had used her to try and get to her beautiful, desirable cousin.

The light turned green, and she hit the gas harder than necessary. “Let’s just say I’ve been burned before.”

A heartbeat’s silence passed. When Connor spoke again, his voice was friendly, casual and missing the seductive undertone. “You’ll like this place.” He chuckled. “I can’t tell you how many meals I’ve had there. If it hadn’t been for Señora Delgado…”

Kelsey wondered at the warmth and gratitude in his words. Something told her Connor wasn’t simply reminiscing about tacos and burritos. An undeniable curiosity built as she pulled into the parking lot. The restaurant looked like an old-time hacienda with its flat roof and arched entryway. The stucco had been painted a welcoming terra-cotta. Strings of outdoor lights scalloped the front porch, and large clay pots housed a variety of heat-tolerant plants: pink and white vinca, yellow gazanias, and clusters of cacti.

Still checking out the exterior, Kelsey remained behind the wheel until Connor circled the car and opened the door for her. Startled by the chivalry, she grabbed her purse and took his hand. As she slid out of the seat, she hoped Connor didn’t guess how rare or surprising she found the gesture.

She thought he’d let go, but he kept hold of her hand as he led her along red, green and yellow mosaic stepping stones that cut through the gravel landscape. His palm felt hard and masculine against her own, but without the calluses she’d somehow expected.

When he opened the carved door, he let go of her hand to lay claim to the small of her back. A shiver rocked her entire body. His solicitous touch shouldn’t have the power to turn on every nerve ending. And it certainly shouldn’t have the inexplicable ability to send her mind reeling with images of his hand stroking down her naked spine…

Full body armor, Kelsey thought once again, uncertain even that extreme could shield her from her own reactions.

Desperate to change her focus, she looked around the restaurant. A dozen round tables stood in the center of the Saltillo-tiled room, and booths lined each wall. The scent of grilled peppers and mouthwatering spices filled the air.

“Man, would you look at this place?” Connor waved a hand at the brightly colored walls, the piñatas dangling from the ceiling and the woven-blanket wall hangings.

He removed his sunglasses to take in the dimly lit restaurant, but Kelsey couldn’t see beyond his eyes. Not brown, not blue, but gorgeous, glorious green. A reminder of spring, the short burst of cool days, the promise of dew-kissed grass. Without the glasses to shield his eyes, Connor McClane looked younger, more approachable, a little less badass.

“Has it changed?”

“No, everything’s exactly the same. Just like it should be,” he added with a determination that made Kelsey wonder. Had someone once threatened to change the restaurant that was so important to his friends?

A young woman wearing a red peasant-style blouse and white three-tiered skirt approached, menus in hand. “Buenas tardes. Two for lunch?”

“Sí. Dínde est´ Señora Delgado?”

Startled, Kelsey listened to Connor converse in fluent Spanish. She couldn’t understand a word, so why did his deep voice pour like hot fudge through her veins?

Get a grip! Connor McClane is in town for one reason and one reason only. And that reason was not her.

The hostess led them to a corner booth. Kelsey barely had a chance to slide across the red Naugahyde and glance at the menu when a masculine voice called out, “Look what the cat dragged in!”

A good-looking Hispanic man dressed in a white button-down shirt and khakis walked over. Connor stood and slapped him on the back in a moment of male bonding. “Javy! Good to see you, man!”

“How’s life in L.A.?”

“Not bad. How’s your mother? The hostess says she’s not here today?”

“She’s semiretired, which means she’s only here to kick my butt half the time,” Javy laughed.

“I didn’t think you’d ever get Maria to slow down.”

“This place means the world to her. I still don’t know how to thank you.”

“Forget it, man,” Connor quickly interrupted. “It was nothing compared to what your family’s done for me over the years.”

Modesty? Kelsey wondered, though Connor didn’t seem the type. And yet she didn’t read even an ounce of pride in his expression. If anything, he looked…guilty.

“I’m not about to forget it, and I will find a way to pay you back,” Javy insisted. “Hey, do you want to crash at my place while you’re here?”

“No, thanks. I’ve got a hotel room.”

Finally Connor turned back to Kelsey. “Javy, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. Javier Delgado, Kelsey Wilson.”

Javy did a double take at Kelsey’s last name, then slanted Connor a warning look. “Man, some people never learn.”

Still, his dark eyes glittered and a dimple flashed in one cheek as he said, “Pleasure to meet you, señorita. Take care of this one, will you? He’s not as tough as he thinks he is.”

“Get outta here.” Connor shoved his friend’s shoulder before sliding into the booth across from Kelsey. “And bring us some food. I’ve been dying for your mother’s enchiladas.” He handed back the menu without opening it. “What about you, Kelsey?”

“I’m, um, not sure.” The menu was written in Spanish on the right and English on the left, but even with the translation, she didn’t know what to order.

“She’ll have a chicken quesadilla with the guacamole and sour cream on the side. And we’ll both have margaritas.”

“I’ll take mine without alcohol,” Kelsey insisted. Bad enough he’d ordered her lunch. She didn’t need him ordering a drink for her, especially not one laden with tequila and guaranteed to go right to her head.

“Two margaritas, one virgin,” Connor said with a wink that sent a rush of heat to Kelsey’s cheeks. With her fair complexion, she figured she could give the red pepper garland strung across the ceiling a run for its money.

“I’ll get those orders right up.”

As his friend walked toward the kitchen, Connor leaned back in the booth and gazed around the restaurant. Nostalgia lifted the corners of his mouth in a genuine smile. “Man, I’ve missed this place.”

“So why haven’t you come back before now?” Kelsey asked, curious despite sensible warnings to keep her distance.

He shrugged. “Never had reason to, I guess.”

“Until now,” she added flatly, “when you’ve come to crash Emily’s wedding.”

Losing his relaxed pose, he braced his muscled forearms on the table and erased the separation between them. His smile disappeared, nostalgia burned away by determination. “First of all, there isn’t going to be a wedding. And second, even if there was a wedding, I wouldn’t be crashing. I’d be an invited guest.”

“Invited!” Surprise and something she didn’t want to label had her pulling back, hoping to create some sanity-saving distance. “Who…” She groaned at the obvious answer, and the confident spark in Connor’s emerald eyes. “What on earth was Emily thinking?”

“Actually, she summed up her thoughts pretty well.”

Connor reached into his back pocket and pulled out an invitation. He offered it up like a challenge, holding a corner between his first and second fingers. She snatched it away, almost afraid to read what her cousin had written. Emily’s girlish script flowered across the cream-colored vellum.

Please say you’ll come. I can’t imagine my wedding day without you.

Good Lord, it was worse than she’d thought! The words practically sounded like a proposal. Was Emily hoping Connor would stop her wedding? That he’d speak now rather than hold his peace?

“Okay,” she said with the hope of defusing the situation, “so Emily invited you.”

“That’s not an invitation. It’s a cry for help.”

“It’s—it’s closure,” she said, knowing she was grasping at straws. “Emily has moved on with her life, and she’s hoping you’ll do the same.”

He frowned. “What makes you think I haven’t?”

“Are you married? Engaged? In a serious relationship?” Kelsey pressed. Each shake of his head proved Kelsey’s point. He wasn’t over Emily.

Kelsey couldn’t blame him. Her cousin was beautiful, inside and out. And experience had taught Kelsey how far a man would go to be a part of Emily’s life.

Connor slid the invitation from her hand in what felt like a caress. “There’s no reason for me not to be here, Kelsey.”

Here, in Arizona, to stop the wedding, she had to remind herself as she snatched her hand back and laced her fingers together beneath the table. Not here with her.

The waitress’s arrival with their drinks spared Kelsey from having to come up with a response. Connor lifted his margarita. “To new friends.”

Rising to the challenge this time, she tapped her glass against his. “And old lovers?”

If she’d hoped to somehow put him in his place, she failed miserably. With a low chuckle, he amended, “Let’s make that old friends…and new lovers.”

His vibrant gaze held her captive as he raised his glass. Ignoring the straw, he took a drink. A hum of pleasure escaped him. The sound seemed to vibrate straight from his body and into hers, a low-frequency awareness that shook her to the core.

He lowered the glass and licked the tequila, salt and lime from his upper lip. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

Oh, she knew. The taste of a man’s kiss, the scent of his aftershave on her clothes, the feel of his hard body moving against her own. How long had it been since a man had stolen her breath, her sanity? How many weeks, months? She’d probably be better converting the time into years—fewer numbers to count.

Odd how Kelsey hadn’t missed any of those things until the moment Connor McClane walked down the airport corridor. No, she had to admit, she’d suffered the first twinge of—loneliness? Lust? She didn’t know exactly what it was, but she’d first felt it the moment she’d looked at Connor’s picture.

“Aren’t you having any?”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and for one second, she imagined leaning over the table and tasting the tequila straight from Connor’s lips.

“Kelsey, your drink?” he all but growled. The heat in his gaze made it clear he knew her sudden thirst had nothing to do with margaritas.

Maybe if she downed the whole thing in one swallow, the brain freeze might be enough to cool her body. She sucked in a quick strawful of the tart, icy mixture with little effect. Frozen nonalcoholic drinks had nothing on Connor McClane.

Still, she set the glass down with a decisive clunk. “You can’t come back here and decide what’s best for Emily. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like Todd. You’re not the one marrying him. Emily is, and her opinion is the only one that matters.”

Connor let out a bark of laughter. “Right! How much weight do you think her opinion carried when we were dating?”

“That was different.”

“Yeah, because I was a nobody from the wrong side of the tracks instead of some old-money entrepreneur with the Wilson stamp of approval on my backside.”

A nobody from the wrong side of the tracks. Kelsey schooled her expression not to reveal how closely those words struck home. What would Connor McClane think if he learned she had more in common with him than with her wealthy cousins?

Kelsey shook off the feeling. It didn’t matter what they did or didn’t have in common; they were on opposite sides.

“Did you ever consider that Emily’s parents thought she was too young? She was barely out of high school, and all she could talk about was running away with you.”

“Exactly.”

Expecting a vehement denial, Kelsey shook her head. “Huh?”

One corner of his mouth tilted in a smile. “I might have been blind back then, but I’ve learned a thing or two. Emily was always a good girl, never caused her parents any trouble. She didn’t smoke, didn’t drink, didn’t do drugs. No tattoos or piercings for her.”

“Of course not.”

From the time Kelsey had moved in with her aunt and uncle, she’d lived in her cousin’s shadow. She knew all about how perfect Emily was—her fling with Connor the sole imperfection that proved she was actually human.

“Emily didn’t have to do those things. She had me. I was her ultimate act of rebellion.”

Kelsey listened for the arrogant ring in his words, but the cocky tone was absent. In its place, she heard a faint bitterness. “No one likes being used,” she murmured, thoughts of her ex-boyfriend coming to mind.

Matt Moran had her completely fooled during the six months they dated. With his shy personality and awkward social skills, she couldn’t say he swept her off her feet. But he’d seemed sweet, caring, and truly interested in her.

And she’d never once suspected he was secretly in love with her cousin or that he’d been using her to get closer to Emily. So Kelsey knew how Connor felt, and somehow knowing that was like knowing him. Her gaze locked with his in a moment of emotional recognition she didn’t dare acknowledge.

The question was written in his eyes, but she didn’t want to answer, didn’t want him seeing inside her soul. “What was Emily rebelling against?”

Connor hesitated, and for a second Kelsey feared he might not let the change of subject slide. Finally, though, he responded, “It had to do with her choice of college. She hated that exclusive prep school, but Charlene insisted on only the best. I suppose that’s where you went, too.”

“Not me,” she protested. “I had the finest education taxpayers could provide.” One of Connor’s dark eyebrows rose, and Kelsey hurried on before he could ask why her childhood had differed from her cousins’. “So after Emily survived prep school…”

He picked up where she left off, but Kelsey had the feeling he’d filed away her evasion for another time. “After graduation, Gordon wanted Emily to enroll at an Ivy League school. She didn’t want to, but her parents held all the cards—until I came along. I was the ace up her sleeve. Guess I still am.”

The bad-boy grin and teasing light were absent from his expression, and Kelsey felt a flicker of unease tumbling helplessly through her stomach. Did Connor know something about Todd that would stop the wedding? Something that would tear apart all Kelsey’s dreams for success and her chance to prove herself in her family’s eyes?

“Emily invited me because her parents are pushing her into this marriage. She’s pushing back the only way she knows how. She wants me to stop the wedding.”

“That’s crazy! Do you realize Emily is having her dress fitting right now? And we’re going to the hotel tomorrow evening to make final arrangements for the reception? She loves Todd and wants to spend the rest of her life with him.”

Leaning forward, he challenged, “If you’re right, if Emily’s so crazy about this guy, then why are you worried I’m here?”

A knowing light glowed in his green eyes, and history told Kelsey she had every reason to worry. After all, on the night of her senior prom, after spending the day having her hair artfully styled and her makeup expertly applied, and wearing the perfect dress, Emily had stood up her parents’ handpicked date…to ride off with Connor on the back of his motorcycle.

Having met Connor, Kelsey could see how easily he must have seduced her cousin. With his looks, charm, his flat-out masculine appeal, how was a woman supposed to resist?

And Kelsey wondered if maybe Emily wasn’t the only one she should be worried about.

Chapter Two

“Honestly, Kelsey, why are you ringing the doorbell like some stranger?” Aileen Wilson-Kirkland demanded as she opened the front door. She latched on to Kelsey’s arm and nearly dragged her inside her aunt and uncle’s travertine-tiled foyer.

“Well, it’s not like I still live here,” Kelsey reminded her cousin.

Aileen rolled her eyes. “You probably rang the doorbell even when this was your home.”

“I did not,” Kelsey protested, even as heat bloomed in her cheeks. Her cousin might have been teasing, but the comment wasn’t far off. She’d never felt comfortable living in her aunt and uncle’s gorgeous Scottsdale house, with its country-club lifestyle and golf-course views. Before moving in with her relatives, home had been a series of low-rent apartments. And, oh, how she’d missed those small, cozy places she’d shared with her mother.

“I didn’t want to barge in,” she added.

“You’re kidding, right? Like I haven’t been dying to hear how things went! Did you pick up Connor? Does he look the same? Do you think—”

Ignoring the rapid-fire questions, Kelsey asked, “Where are Emily and Aunt Charlene?”

“Emily’s still having her dress fitted.”

“Oh, I’d love to see it.” A designer friend of Kelsey’s had made the dress for her cousin, but so far Kelsey had seen only drawings and fabric swatches.

For such a gorgeous woman, Aileen gave a decidedly inelegant snort as they walked down the hall. “Nice try. Do you really think you can escape without going over every detail from the first second you saw Connor right up to when you left him—” Emily’s older sister frowned. “Where did you leave him?”

“At a restaurant.”

“By himself?”

“What else could I do, Aileen? Follow him to his hotel and ask for an invitation inside?”

“Well, that would make it easier to keep an eye on him.”

“Aileen!”

Waving aside Kelsey’s indignation, Aileen said, “I’m just kidding. Besides, he doesn’t have a car, right?”

“Like that’s going to slow him down! Don’t you remember the time Connor got busted for joyriding in a ‘borrowed’ car?” She hadn’t been around then, but her aunt had remarked on Connor’s misdeeds long after he’d left town. In fact, Connor’s name had come up any time Emily threatened to disobey her parents. Like some kind of bogeyman Aunt Charlene evoked to keep her younger daughter in line.

Her cousin’s perfectly shaped brows rose. “You don’t think he’s still involved in illegal activities, do you?”

“I have no idea,” Kelsey said, ignoring the internal voice yelling no. Her automatic desire to rush to Connor’s defense worried her. She was supposed to stop him, not champion him.

“You should find out,” Aileen said as she led the way into the study. The bookshelf-lined room, with its leather and mahogany furniture, was her uncle’s masculine domain, but even this room had been taken over by wedding preparations. Stacks of photo albums cluttered the coffee table.

“Why me?” Kelsey groaned.

“You want to help Emily, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” she insisted, even if she had to admit her motives weren’t completely altruistic.

“And you want the wedding to be perfect, right?” Her cousin already knew the answer and didn’t wait for Kelsey’s response.

“I know Mother exaggerates, but not when it comes to Connor McClane. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried kidnapping Emily again,” Aileen added.

Kelsey fought to keep from rolling her eyes. “She took off with Connor on prom night and didn’t come back until the next day. I think your parents overreacted.”

“Maybe, but I guarantee he’ll try to stop the wedding somehow.” Aileen pointed an older-therefore-wiser finger in Kelsey’s direction. “But don’t let him fool you.”

He hadn’t bothered to try to fool her. Was Connor so confident he could stop the wedding that he didn’t care who knew about his plan?

Walking over to the coffee table, Aileen picked up a stack of photos. “Here are the pictures Mother wants to show during the reception.”

“Thanks.” Kelsey flipped through images of her cousin’s life. Not a bad-hair day or an acne breakout in the bunch. Even in pigtails and braces Emily had been adorable. As Kelsey tucked them into her purse, she noticed a stray photo had fallen to the Oriental area rug. “Did you want to include this one?”

Her voice trailed off as she had a better look at the picture. At first glance, the young woman could have been Emily, but the feathered hair and ruffled prom dress were wrong. “Oh, wow.”

From the time Kelsey had come to live with her aunt and uncle, she’d heard how much Emily looked like Kelsey’s mother, Olivia. Kelsey had seen similarities in the blond hair and blue eyes, but from this picture of a teenage Olivia dressed for a high school dance, she and Emily could have passed for sisters.

Reading her thoughts, Aileen said, “Amazing, isn’t it?”

“It is. Everyone always said—” Kelsey shook her head. “I never noticed.”

“Really? But they look so much alike!”

“My mother, she didn’t—” Laugh? Smile? Ever look as alive as she looked in that photo? Uncertain what to say, Kelsey weakly finished, “I don’t remember her looking like this.”

“Oh, Kelse. I’m sorry.” Concern darkened Aileen’s eyes. “I should have realized with your mother being so sick and having to go through chemo. Of course, she didn’t look the same.”

Accepting her cousin’s condolences with a touch of guilt, Kelsey silently admitted Olivia Wilson had lost any resemblance to the girl in the picture long before being diagnosed with cancer. What would it have been like had her mother retained some of that carefree, joyful spirit? Kelsey immediately thrust the disloyal thought aside.

Olivia had given up everything—including the wealth and family that now surrounded Kelsey—to raise her daughter. Emily’s wedding was Kelsey’s chance to live up to her promise. To hold her head high and finally show the Wilsons how amazing she could be.

With a final look at the picture, Kelsey slid the photo of her mother back into one of the albums. “It’s okay,” she told Aileen. “Let’s go see if Emily’s done with the fitting.”

“All right. But be warned,” Aileen said as she led the way down the hall toward Emily’s bedroom. “The photographer’s in there.”

“Really?” Kelsey frowned. “I don’t remember pictures of the fitting being included. Was that something Emily requested?”

She had long accepted that her ideas and her cousins’ differed greatly, but a seamstress fretting over her measurements would have been a nightmare for Kelsey, not a photo op.

Aileen shrugged and opened the door just a crack. “The photographer said it was all part of the package.”

A quick glance inside, and Kelsey immediately saw what “package” the photographer was interested in. Emily stood in the middle of the bedroom, with its girlish four-poster bed and French provincial furniture. Her sheer, lace-covered arms were held out straight at her sides while the seamstress pinned the beaded bodice to fit her willowy curves. Dewy makeup highlighted her wide blue eyes, flawless cheekbones and smiling lips.

“What do you think, Mother? Will Todd like it?” Emily leaned forward to examine the skirt, testing the limits of a dozen stickpins.

The photographer, a man in his midtwenties, started snapping shots as fast as his index finger could fly. It wasn’t the first time Kelsey had seen slack-jawed amazement on a man’s face. Too bad she saw the expression only when her cousin was around.

“Of course he will. Audra is an amazing designer, and she created that dress just for you. It’s perfect,” Aunt Charlene insisted, keeping a narrow-eyed glare on the photographer.

Charlene Wilson didn’t share her daughters’beauty, but she was a tall, striking woman. She could instantly command a room with her timeless sense of style and demand for perfection from herself and those around her. Today she wore a beige silk suit that wouldn’t dare wrinkle and her brown hair in an elegant twist at the nape of her neck.