Notorious by Vicki Lewis Thompson

but she longed for fresh underwear after that nice bath. Finally she decided to rinse out her panties and dry them with the hair dryer. She could skip the bra. After all, she was in Vegas, as Noah’s friends had pointed out more than once.
    She touched up her makeup with supplies she kept in her purse, put on her slightly damp panties and pulled her dress over her head. Then she released her hair from its topknot and finger-combed it into place. Time to go find the Romeo of the Rodeo Circuit.
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    S HE’D ENDED UP naked in the closet, after all, Noah thought as he stood in the tux-rental shop and buttoned the vest he’d be wearing as a groomsman. Now all he could think about was how she’d looked. He should have guessed she’d be in there putting on her raspberry lotion.
    When he’d opened the closet door he’d been hit with a double whammy, a naked Keely and the overwhelming scent of raspberries. How he’d managed to close the door and walk out of the bedroom as if he were a sane person, he’d never know. He could still see her there in the dusky interior of that closet, smiling at him and wiggling her fingers in greeting.
    She was a devil woman. And she wanted to tempt him the way she’d tempted others before him, but it wasn’t going to work, damn it. Somewhere he’d find the strength to resist and demonstrate to her that at least one man valued her for something besides sex. He would show her there was another path she could take and that her spectacular body didn’t have to dictate her future.
    But he’d have to be careful. He’d nearly cracked when she’d dropped that towel. If he were completely honest with himself, she’d been the one to call a halt, not him. If she’d given him even the slightest encouragement, he would have aborted his plan and been all over her. He knew it and he suspected she knew it, too.
    That damn raspberry lotion wasn’t helping, either. Hecouldn’t very well tell her not to use it if that’s what she liked. And he wouldn’t want to be responsible for the dry air damaging that soft skin. That satiny, golden, sweetly freckled…
    â€œYo, Garfield!” Brandon clapped him on the back. “Just two more buttons and you’ll have that vest together. Work with me, man. Button, buttonhole. That’s it. I think you’ve got it now.”
    Noah’s neck grew warm with embarrassment. No telling how long he’d been standing there staring off into space. “Can’t a guy take a moment?” he said. “These weddings are big medicine. I’ve got some deep thinking to do.”
    Brandon laughed. “That sounds like my line. Anyway, you’ll have plenty of thinking time later, when we all have a beer in our hands. Right now we have to find out if your monkey suit fits. Here’s the coat.”
    Noah stuck his arms in the coat Brandon held for him. “Why does everybody always get rigged up like this for weddings?” he asked.
    â€œBecause it gets the women hot,” Greg said as he adjusted the lapels of his coat. “Right, Brandon?”
    â€œSo I’ve heard.”
    â€œIt’s true.” Clint checked out his reflection in the three-way mirror. “Chicks can’t resist a guy in tie and tails.”
    â€œIf you say so. You all could pass for city slickers, if that’s what you’re after.” Noah grinned as he watched his three friends walk around in their rented finery. Looking at them now, nobody would guess that Clint and Brandon were two of the finest bareback riders in the country and that Greg could rope and tie a steer faster than almost anyone on the circuit.
    Clint and Brandon were as close as brothers, but they’d never pass for biological brothers. Clint was tall and blond and Brandon was short and dark-haired. Greg, a freckle-faced redhead, had developed a slight beer belly now that he’d reached his thirties, but