Christine Rimmer

A Bravo's Honour


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them. But she didn’t want to behave like one.

      “Care to dance?” A nice-looking guy in cargoes and a crew-neck shirt stood by the table, smiling down at her.

      “Sure.” Mercy put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. As he led her toward the wide cleared space, she glanced back to see that another guy was leading Elena onto the floor.

      It was a line dance. Mercy knew the steps well enough to keep up. More than once, she and Elena passed each other as the lines separated and reformed. Elena would brush her shoulder or nudge her with an elbow and then toss her head in the direction of the long bar, where Luke sat facing out, nursing a beer.

      Watching.

      Mercy was careful never to let her eyes meet his. She focused on the steps of the dance and smiled at her partner and told herself to forget Luke Bravo, to enjoy the music and have a good time.

      As the song ended and her partner thanked her for the dance, she couldn’t resist a glance toward the bar. Luke wasn’t there. A girl in a purple camisole and a black miniskirt sat on his stool sipping a frozen pink drink.

      Mercy felt ridiculously bereft. Had he left, then? Or was he asking some other girl to dance?

      She shouldn’t care. She didn’t care. Another guy caught her hand. “Hey. Dance?”

      She forced a smile and the band started up again. A two-step. Her partner held her lightly. They exchanged names. He said he was in the air force, stationed at Lackland. She told him, half-shouting to be heard over the music, that she was a large animal vet. He said he had a German shepherd named Duke. He had a feeling Duke would be getting sick real soon…

      She laughed and explained that she mostly cared for livestock.

      “Well, then, I guess I need to buy me a cow.”

      When that dance ended, he asked for another. He seemed nice enough, but she had a hunch he would be asking her out next. Maybe that would have been good—to go out with a nice guy, maybe get something going.

      But it didn’t seem right somehow. She wasn’t really interested. She’d only be using him in an attempt to forget about Luke.

      So she shook her head and went back to the table where Elena waited with a couple of fresh beers. She slid into her seat.

      Elena glanced past her shoulder. “Don’t look now, but he’s on his way over here.”

      Mercy frowned. “The guy I was just dancing with?”

      “No. Luke.”

      Mercy’s heart leapt, but she spoke calmly. “You said that before. Didn’t happen.” She picked up her beer and took a long, cool sip.

      “It’s happening this time.”

      Mercy glanced over. And there he was. Impossibly tall and too handsome for words, standing right by her table.

      Elena beamed a big smile at him. “Luke Bravo. How you doing?”

      Mercy faced forward, staring blindly in front of her as he and her baby sister exchanged inane pleasantries. She picked up her beer again and took another sip. A long one.

      That was when Luke said, “Mercy, how ’bout a dance?”

      Yes, she had expected that. Still, she almost choked on her beer. With great care, she set the bottle down and swallowed. Elena grinned at her, triumph and challenge lighting her eyes.

      Mercy’s pulse raced and her face felt flushed. But really, she was making way too much of this. What could it hurt? It was only a dance.

      She turned and laid her hand in Luke’s.

      Wouldn’t you know it would be a rare slow one? Luke took her in his arms, careful of her as if she were fine china, delicate and breakable. Strangely, at that moment, she felt as if she might break, brittle and confused—and still, even though he held her lightly and not too close, terribly aroused by his nearness.

      Her lips tingled. They longed to feel his kiss. And her cheeks felt so hot, burning, as if with fever.

      He said, “I swear, I didn’t plan this.”

      She realized she’d been avoiding looking at him and made herself meet those sky-blue eyes, accepting the shock of heat that went through her as their gazes connected. “It’s okay. Really.”

      “Only a dance, right?” His words echoed her thoughts. Was he trying to convince himself, too, that a dance was all this was?

      She made a small, nervous noise of agreement and glanced away. Elena danced by, in Caleb’s arms. Mercy gaped in shock and Elena beamed her a big, wide smile.

      Was it just her imagination, or was the world as she’d known it spinning fast out of control?

      Only a dance, she reminded herself silently. She closed her eyes and let the music take her, let herself enjoy this forbidden moment, with Luke’s arms holding her in that special, cherishing way, with the warmth of him and the scent of his aftershave tempting her, with his cheek against her hair.

      It was over too soon. He stepped back and his mouth quirked in a beautiful, rueful smile that pierced her straight to the heart.

      “I know,” he said softly. “This dance never happened.”

      “You’ve got a thing for Mercedes Cabrera,” Caleb said with a low chuckle as he drove them back to Bravo Ridge.

      Luke stared out the windshield at the dark ribbon of highway in front of them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “I saw the way you looked at her—the way she looked at you…” He made a sizzling sound through his teeth. “Hot enough to melt steel.”

      “Mind your own business, little brother.”

      “You going out with her?”

      “Hell, no.”

      “Why not?”

      “Don’t pretend to be naive. We both know you’re anything but.”

      Caleb drove in silence for a while. Luke almost dared to hope the topic was dropped. It wasn’t.

      “The feud is ancient history,” Caleb said. “What’s it to us? We’re a whole new generation. We ought to try and get beyond the old garbage. You know, heal the breach. It’s been years since—”

      “Tell all that to Javier Cabrera.”

      “If I wanted to go out with Mercy, I wouldn’t let anything stop me.” Caleb fiddled with the radio, turning it up, listening for a moment, turning it down again. Finally, he said way too casually, “Elena grew up to be gorgeous, didn’t she?”

      Luke did look at him then. “You’re not serious.”

      “She’s cute and fun. And smart. And I like her.”

      “Don’t do it, Caleb. I mean it. Why take the chance of stirring up trouble? It’s not worth it.”

      Caleb sent him a puzzled glance. And then he shrugged. “All right. If it bothers you that much, I won’t ask Elena out.”

      “Good. Don’t. Leave it alone.”

      Wednesday at four, Mercy showed up at the ranch. She drove straight to the stables, as Luke had figured she would.

      He was there when she arrived. He’d been hanging around the horses all day, telling himself it was a good idea to be there, that it didn’t hurt to spend some time with the men now and then, to see how they were handling the mundane daily work.

      It was crap, his reasoning. Just an excuse. He knew his men and he had chance enough day-to-day to make sure they were all on top of their work. The real reason he was at the stables all day had shining black hair and eyes to match. He hadn’t known when her rounds would bring her there.

      And