Now, it seemed, she was stuck with J.D.

She had no option but to make the best of a very bad situation. Philip and his father left, Tiffany offered to help with the dishes, but her prospective mother-in-law waved off her attempts and told her the servants would take care of the mess. Within half an hour she was riding on the bench seat of J.D.’s pickup, clutching the strap of her purse as if her life depended on it and trying to make small talk. He was, after all, going to be her brother-in-law. It was ridiculous for her to be on edge every time she was near him.

“Tell me,” he said as they drove along the narrow country road cutting through the hills surrounding Portland, “what is it you see in Philip?”

“Excuse me?” What did he care? Storm clouds brewed in the night sky, obliterating the moon and hiding the stars. Fat drops of rain began to splatter onto the windshield.

“I mean, let’s face it. He’s nearly twice your age.”

She bristled. “So I’ve heard.”

“I’ll bet.” Shifting down, he took a corner a little too fast. The storm began in earnest. Rain peppered the windshield, drizzling down the dusty glass.

“Are you going to try and talk me out of it?”

“Could I?” He slid a glance in her direction and her pulse jumped.

“No.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Headlights from an oncoming car illuminated the inside of the pickup with harsh, white light, instantly casting J.D.’s face in relief. Tiffany looked away from his strong profile. His hard, thin lips, tense jaw, eyes squinting as he drove, were far too sensual, far too male. The oncoming car passed them and the interior was dark again.

He poked the lighter. “Well, I guess it’s your funeral.”

“Wedding. You mean it’s my wedding.”

“Whatever.” The lights of Portland came into view and Tiffany felt a sense of relief as J.D. lit a cigarette from the pack on the dash. She just needed to get out of the truck and away from Philip’s disdainful brother. What did it matter what he thought or what anyone thought? All that was important was the one simple fact that she and Philip loved each other.

“You know, you could just try and accept the situation,” she said finally as he cracked a window. The smell of fresh rain mingled with smoke. “You don’t have to be antagonistic.”

“Is that what I am?”

“At least.”

“You’d rather I be what? Friendlier?” He snorted, smoke shooting from his nostrils.

“That would be a start.”

“Would it?” He let out a huff of derision as he cranked the wheel around a corner. “How much friendlier would you like?”

Bristling, she quietly counted to ten. “Look, J.D., you don’t have to try and bait me, okay? I just think we should be civil.”

“Why?”