The Virgin and the Vengeful Groom by Dixie Browning Page A

her mama did about schooling.”
    â€œExecrable. Does that mean what I think it does?”
    Lily glanced up, captured by his remarkable eyes. They were an unusual shade of dark-blue, hard to read even for someone who was good at it. At the moment they held a definite twinkle. So far she had never heard him laugh and had only seen his smile once or twice. He even teased with a straight face. It was a disarming trait.
    â€œProbably. As euphemisms go, it’s pretty expressive,” she said dryly.
    â€œMeans not so good, huh?”
    â€œYou got it.” She grinned, then stretched, yawned and begged his pardon. They’d both been up since shortly after daybreak, finding it easier to do as much as possible before the heat and humidity grew too oppressive. The late-afternoon breeze was a bonus, but even the breeze was hot, damp and enervating. “Take this word right here…” Leaning over, she pointed out a short series of loops and swoops. “Do you have any idea what it could be? Is this an R or an N? ”
    â€œLooks like an R …that first one’s a C. ”
    â€œHmm. Then it must be crow, not wren.” Her arm brushed against his, and she held her breath. She was going to have to do a better job of keeping her distance. Not easy to do when her insides were so unsettled. At first she’dthought it was the water. Now she was beginning to suspect it was the man. She’d been having some wild dreams lately, waking up with all sorts of vague longings.
    Oh, it was the man, all right. She wasn’t all that stupid. She might lack experience, but she certainly didn’t lack knowledge. When he went on to say, “Crow’s nest, to be more precise,” she actually shivered. Well, damn. Even his voice brought on a physical reaction.
    A little breathlessly she said, “I’m pretty sure she was no older than, say…twelve when she wrote this. Which means she was still living aboard her father’s ship. You’re telling me some bird built a nest on a ship? ”
    â€œThe crow’s nest is a lookout platform, usually at the top of the highest mast.”
    â€œOh.”
    While Lily stared down at the book in his hands, Curt stared at the top of her head. The sun brought out reddish glints in her dark hair, loosed the faint scent of wildflowers he’d noticed before. She had two distinct cowlicks. Even more than the rich color, the silken texture and the enticing scent, that small imperfection slipped under his guard.
    Quickly looking away, he cleared his throat. “Pretty common term. I’m surprised a famous writer like you wouldn’t have recognized it.”
    â€œYes, well, this famous writer still has a few king-size gaps in her education.”
    â€œDon’t we all,” he murmured, surprised and oddly touched that she would admit it. While she wasn’t quite as arrogant as he’d first thought, she had more defenses than he would have expected in a successful novelist. “Wanna know my big weakness?” Other than dual cowlicks, that was. “Spelling. No logic to it.”
    â€œSure there is, didn’t you ever hear of phonics?”
    â€œYeah, and I keep wanting to know why it’s not spelled the way it’s pronounced.”
    She laughed aloud. He grinned, surprising himself. Probably surprising her even more, from the look on her face. She murmured something about dictionaries and computer spell-checks and went back to wrestling with cramped penmanship, faded ink and archaic wording, and the moment passed.
    Unfortunately, his growing fascination didn’t. Nor was it likely to unless something happened to relieve the increasing tension. Living with Lily, even on a temporary basis, was turning out to be a major complication in the life he’d been determined to simplify.
    You’ve simplified it, all right, man. Simplified it beyond all comprehension.
    Â 
    They made it through the first five