CHAPTER ONE
Cole
I'd never seen Tessa Bowers more beautiful than the moment she discovered she was getting married. She was stunned, panicked and nervous. Her cheeks, bright pink with vitality, had drained of color. Her mouth, often turned up into a contrary little smile, fell open and her tongue darted out to lick her full lips. Needless to say, my thoughts took a very carnal turn at the gesture.
Ever since she'd developed her woman's body, she'd tested her feminine wiles on every man in Liberty, Montana, before ultimately setting her sights on me. Coy glances, an inappropriate brush of a hand, a brief, yet planned moment alone had been a few of her attempts to gain my attentions. Instead of the modest, demure behavior of a young miss, she was brazen, bold and devious and I'd been bewitched from the very first. The more she tried to gain my attention, however, the more I rebuffed her every effort. That didn't mean I hadn't noticed her. Hell, what man hadn't? I blatantly disapproved of her every forward gesture, snubbed her bold advances because that meant she would apply herself even harder, and I enjoyed her efforts. Her blatant innocence was endearing, as long as it was directed toward me. No one else. And until she was old enough, I waited, for she was to be mine.
But she couldn't ensnare me. I would trap her. It was the man's job to claim his bride. And today at church, I did.
"You're sure she's the one you want?" Sam asked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "It's not too late to back out. No one would blame you. I hear Clara James has turned quite fetching in recent months."
We were standing shoulder-to-shoulder at the altar, next to Reverend Abernathy. The church was small and the pews were filled with townspeople I'd known my whole life. I could hear their soft whispers as they watched the event unfold.
I turned my head and rolled my eyes at my brother. "Clara James? If you think she's so fetching, then you have her. Tessa's mine."
I turned and watched my intended in the middle of the aisle, standing motionless between her parents. Both had a hand on one of her elbows, attempting to push her forward, but her feet held fast, even on the polished wood floor. For the first time in her life, Tessa Bowers was being forced to do something she wasn’t inclined to do. It might not be the last.
As she was being manhandled in my direction, Tessa seemed to have grasped what was about to occur. No one came up to the raised dais besides the minister unless they were about to be wed or buried. Mr. Bowers had taken care of his last responsibility toward his daughter: getting her to the altar. He'd done an exceptional job. It was obvious she had no idea this was no ordinary church service until she’d crossed the threshold to see me standing by the minister in my Sunday finery.
Stepping down, I shook Mr. Bower's limp hand, nodded to his sour-faced wife and then took Tessa by the biceps.
"This is not happening," she snapped, her voice low. She actually stomped her foot like a five-year-old, not the nineteen-year-old woman she was. She was tall, but still only came to my chin. Her hair was black as night and she had the bluest of eyes, a striking contrast that I'd never seen in another woman. Her mouth was lush and ripe, as were her womanly curves. When she spoke, however, her venomous words never failed to find their mark. I doubted she had many friends, and her parents had been quicker with a belt than a kind word. They were far from doting.
"I'm not even dressed appropriately." She leaned in close and I could see a slight hint of freckles across her nose. Her familiar floral scent drifted up to me.
"You're worried about your dress and not the man who is standing at the altar waiting for you?" I smirked at her tangled concerns.
She pursed her lips as if I’d just made a benign statement. "Of course it is you. Who else did I tempt all this time?"
Who else, indeed? No one that wished to claim and tame her like I did. Not that I'd let any of them get near her. I wanted a spirited woman. I wanted a woman with passion, with fire. I wanted Tessa.
"Regardless, this is not a convenient time. Perhaps next Sunday would be better." She sniffed and smoothed her skirts to appear unaffected. I knew otherwise.
I only arched a brow at her dictate and leaned my head down so only she could hear. "Do you want to tell the reverend about the time you cornered me in the coat closet, or should I? How about when you accidentally spilled the water pitcher on your white blouse?" It was blackmail of the lowest form, but she needed to be swayed and quickly. I'd waited long enough to make her mine.
I heard her sharp intake of breath and watched her give Reverend Abernathy a furtive glance. "You wouldn't." Her voice hissed out with her usual snap of anger.
I bent at the waist so we were eye level. Her pale blue gaze was wary, fearful, yet still defiant. The room was silent. Not even a deep breath came from the congregation, as they no doubt watched our exchange, wondering who would emerge triumphant. "It doesn't matter to me, darlin', one way or the other." I grinned. "We can stand up and get married today with everyone knowing of your forward ways, or we can just keep that to ourselves. It's your choice."
Her full mouth fell open and I could see her thinking, debating. I enjoyed watching her clever mind at work. It only took her a moment to realize she was good and trapped. "Very well, but I don't have to like it. Or you."
"You don't have to like it, but it'll sure be more enjoyable for you if you do."
With those words I stood up to my full height and held out a bent arm for her to take. The whole town had turned out to fill the back pews. My brother, Jake, and his wife, Catherine, sat in the front with my cousin Grant and his wife, Maura. Across the aisle sat Mr. and Mrs. Bowers and their oldest daughter, Henrietta, and husband. Sheriff MacKenzie leaned against one wall toward the back and gave me a knowing grin. Adam Graham, the town doctor, stood with him.
Tessa placed her dainty hand at my elbow and we stepped up to the altar. I could have sworn I heard Mr. Bowers sigh in relief.
Reverend Abernathy smiled at us both and opened his Bible. The religious portion of the service was quickly accomplished; the man knew the chances of an unwilling woman fleeing the altar were diminished if the service itself was kept brief. So within minutes, I lowered my head to kiss my bride for the first time.
r /> I felt her intake of breath, watched her eyelids flutter closed. She did not resist; she'd been wanting me to do so for years. Now that she was legally mine, I could. Her full lips were soft, warm and pliant. I didn't know if it was her first kiss or if she'd practiced with another, but she was woefully lacking in skill, yet it was somehow endearing. This was something I looked forward to improving. When her eyes fluttered open, the congregation applauded. I couldn't help but grin, pleased that Tessa was now mine. Some surely thought I'd been kicked in the head by a horse to take on Tessa Bowers. There was something unbelievably beautiful and soft beneath her uppity manner, and I aimed to see more of it.
Some of the congregation stood and left, while others remained. Mr. Bowers gave me a relieved nod and departed with his eldest daughter and her husband. It appeared Mrs. Bowers would stay as family witness to the final portion of the marriage ceremony.
Tessa turned toward the steps as if to depart. While her eagerness to leave with me was pleasing, we were not finished by half. She might have been mine now in the eyes of God, but she needed to be corked for me to claim her in the eyes of the town, and in my eyes as well.
Reverend Abernathy raised his eyebrows in silent question and I nodded. A week earlier, my brother Jake had married Catherine and had chosen to skip the corking at the wedding. I, however, had no such intentions. The minister held out a hand towards the bar to the right side of the altar. He often stood behind it to give his sermons, but it held another use for occasions such as this.
"We're not done, darlin','" I told Tessa.
She glanced up at me, her dark brows coming together. I gave her hand a little tug and pulled her over to the bar.