Jenna grinned. “Sam McCabe in the flesh.”
“Doesn’t he have some sort of super-successful computer firm in Dallas?”
“Yep. According to his aunt Lilah, he’ll be commuting. Meanwhile, he and his sons are moving into the house he inherited from his folks. Apparently he’s been having a hard time keeping track of his boys since their mom died. He figured it’d be easier to ride herd on them in Laramie.”
Dani studied the six McCabes. “John and Lilah McCabe must be happy about that. They’ve always been fond of all their nieces and nephews. Sam in particular.”
Jenna nodded. “I think they’d like to see Sam married again. Although from what I hear there’s not much chance of that. No woman will ever replace Ellie in either Sam or the boys’ affections. And speaking of affections, you look…different this morning.”
The truth was, Dani felt different. She had never been all that adventurous when it came to her personal life. Independent, yes. But as for taking risks in a romantic sense, she had always been sensible to a fault. Once again, with Beau, she hadn’t exercised caution. Instead, she had recklessly given into temptation and satisfied her curiosity about what it would be like to make love to Beau—again. And she’d discovered being loved by Beau was every bit as good as it looked in the movies. No, Dani decided quickly, yesterday had been even better than that, because yesterday had actually happened to her. Just as, she was beginning to see, their lovemaking in Mexico had really happened. And it had obviously been as deliciously sensual and wonderful as her fragments of memory indicated.
She’d hoped, of course, that if they made love one more time they’d get each other out of their systems. Be able to move on with their lives. That hadn’t happened. Instead, Beau seemed to want her more than ever. And she wanted him, too, even though she knew it wasn’t wise and had no intention of ever giving into temptation that way again.
“What? No comment? No ready reply? You’re just going to stand there looking secretive?” Jenna quipped after a moment, obviously frustrated that her fishing expedition had yielded absolutely nothing.
Jenna was not just the most creative of the four sisters. She was also the most curious. Which meant Dani was going to have to give her something if she wanted Jenna to drop it.
Dani held the front door while Jenna carried in a white paper bag from Isabel Buchanon’s bakery and two cups of decaf coffee, stacked one on top of the other. “Okay.” Dani would take the lure. “How exactly do I look different?” Dani led the way to the living room, which—despite their nonstop efforts to arrange it satisfactorily the day before—was still a disorganized mess. She just did not have any talent when it came to home decor. And unfortunately neither did Beau.
“I don’t know exactly.” Jenna sat down on the sofa, which had been pushed to the far wall opposite the bay window overlooking the front lawn. Carefully she opened the lid on her coffee, while Dani sat beside her and did the same.
Jenna peered at her, taking in Dani’s linen trousers and sleeveless shirt. “Flushed, I guess. Happy and excited and scared all at the same time. Sort of like when you’ve just come off a roller coaster at Six Flags.” Jenna studied her intently as Dani pulled two buttery blackberry Danishes from the bag and set them on napkins, her concern as a big sister evident. “So what’s going on?”
Nothing I can talk about, Dani thought as she took a bite of the delicious flaky pastry. But plenty she could think about. After they’d made love and she’d told Beau it wouldn’t happen again, they’d spent a good deal of the rest of the day apart. She’d busied herself in her office. And Beau had gone off to parts unknown, returning only at dinnertime with some food from the Lone Star Dinner and Dance Hall for both of them. After they’d eaten, they’d retired to separate quarters of the house and gone to bed early, Dani upstairs, Beau on the sofa downstairs.
As a result, they’d also gotten up early. Dani had heard him moving around, shaving and taking a shower before it was even light. When she’d emerged from the shower around six-thirty, he’d been talking on the phone downstairs. Shortly thereafter, he’d left, without a word about where he was going or why. Or even when he’d be back. Admittedly Dani, who’d spent half the night marvelling at the new life growing inside her, had been a little miffed. Even though she knew he didn’t owe her any explanation. It wasn’t as if they had to check in with each other just because they were married. She certainly wasn’t informing him of her every decision, thought or whim. Yet it would have been nice to know where he was and what he was doing right this minute. It would have made her feel closer to him somehow. As if they were the kind of close-knit team they’d need to be for their baby.
“You can tell me,” Jenna insisted compassionately.
“Obviously you think something potentially upsetting is going on,” Dani said, studying her older sister carefully. “Or you wouldn’t be here.” Jenna was not one to offer sweet buttery Danishes and a shoulder to cry on unless she was pretty sure it was needed.
“Well…” Jenna started, clearly not wanting to offend.
Her impatience growing by leaps and bounds, Dani wiped her fingers on her paper napkin. “Stop trying to protect me, Jenna, and just spit it out.” If there was anything Dani hated, it was a delay in bad news. If something awful had happened—and Jenna was acting as if it had—she wanted to know about it as soon as possible. This waiting for the ax to fall was for the birds.
Jenna took a sip of coffee and swallowed. “I just saw Beau Chamberlain going into the Lone Star.”
“So?” Dani took a bite of her Danish. “He and Greta McCabe have been friends for a long time, you know that.” Greta was Dani’s friend, too. Dani knew there was nothing to feel jealous about there.
Jenna looked at Dani. “He wasn’t with Greta. He was with Sharon Davis, his ex-wife.”
Dani’s heart did a somersault. Beau hadn’t said anything to her about Sharon being in town, although after the way they had been skirting each other carefully since they’d made love, she could hardly blame him for not confiding in her. She had practically drawn the battle lines in her effort to maintain some independence from him, emotional and otherwise.
“Beau has a financial stake in Greta’s dance hall,” Dani reported numbly. That could explain why he was going into a place that wouldn’t be open for hours, or even, she knew, have any staff there until much later in the afternoon.
Eyes narrowing suspiciously, Jenna persisted, “What does that have to do with Sharon Davis being here in Laramie, though?”
Dani didn’t know. But ten to one it had something to do with money and the exposé Sharon was threatening to write about her life with Beau.
SHARON HAD NEVER BEEN a morning person, but Beau was, and it was a fact his ex-wife was well aware of. Hence, she’d known that the best time to catch him was early in the day. So she’d made sure she had a message waiting for him when he checked his voice mail at seven. And she’d made sure she was ready to meet with him at whatever location he chose after she flew in from Los Angeles. Knowing the last thing he wanted was his ex-wife and his new wife together under the same roof, Beau had chosen the Lone Star. It was easy to find, even if you didn’t know the area all that well, and Sharon didn’t. Because he was Greta’s silent partner, he had a key and could let them into the dinner and dance hall. And he knew it was one place in Laramie he could guarantee he and Sharon wouldn’t be disturbed.
Now that they were here, however, facing off across the polished wooden dance floor in the center of the establishment, Beau was already regretting meeting with Sharon at all. Clearly she blamed him for everything that had gone wrong in her life. And that had been plenty.
“Our fans want to know why we split up,” Sharon said, decisively tossing her sleek, dark, perfectly coiffed mane.
Beau walked over to one of the tables. He took down a chair, turned it around backward and straddled the seat. “Our fans don’t need to know why we split up,” Beau said, folding his arms over the top of the chair
.
Sharon glared at him and continued to pace back and forth as dramatically as possible, glaring at him all the while. “You can say that. The mystery of our divorce hasn’t hurt your career one bit.”
The divorce hasn’t hurt your career, either, Beau thought. Your acting ability—or more precisely, lack of it—has. But knowing better than to say that and risk ticking off his volatile ex-wife off any more, he kept silent.
“My career has suffered enormously,” Sharon continued, pressing a hand to her ample chest.
Beau shrugged. Sharon wanted him to become emotional, too. That wasn’t going to happen. “Painting me as an adulterer isn’t going to help your career, Sharon,” he told her in a low tone.
Sharon stalked closer, her three-inch heels making a staccato sound on the floor. “You’re wrong there. People always feel sympathy for the wronged wife.”
Beau’s patience, what little of it was left, began to fade. “Except you weren’t wronged and you know it.” He pushed the words through clenched teeth.
Sharon’s eyes glittered. “That’s not so,” she said fiercely. “You never really loved me, and you know it.”
True, Beau thought on a tidal wave of guilt. Much to his chagrin, he hadn’t loved Sharon. He just hadn’t known it at the time. That didn’t mean he had to keep paying for it, though. As far as he was concerned, he had more than paid for his sins. “I’m not going to let you do this to me,” he said.
Sharon sashayed closer, her hips swaying provocatively in her short tight skirt. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise,” Beau said quietly, looking her in the eye. “I will sue you if you persist in this course. And if you think your career is hurting now—wait until you see the damage that will be done if you are painted as a vengeful liar, as well as an adulterer.”
Sharon’s green eyes flashed with fiery temper and ugly intentions. She slapped her hands on the ladder back of the chair and leaned over, giving him a generous view of her breasts, spilling out of her low-cut top. “You forget who you’re talking to. I work in this business, too. And I know exactly how much is at stake for you. You need a hit here, Beau, and a big one, to keep your stratospheric salary and wealth of opportunities.” She straightened slowly, then continued in a voice that was hard and clipped, “You’re right, I may not win in the long run, but I can certainly do enough damage to your reputation in the short term to keep women out of the theaters in droves. And perhaps create renewed interest in me and an opportunity or two for myself. By the time the truth about us comes out,” Sharon smiled evilly. “You know how bad the press can be about printing retractions of any kind about anyone. Never mind about a story that’s so old it’s over. Well, by that time, the damage to your career will already be done, as well.”
Unfortunately for Beau, Sharon’s words had a ring of truth. She could not only drag him through the mud and make fools out of them both, she would inadvertently be dragging Dani—and their baby—into this mess. “So what do you want?” Beau asked gruffly.
“A part in the new Sydney Peterson movie.”
Beau laughed and stood. “You’re dreaming.” The esteemed director had a rep for only working with the best. He was very particular about which actors he selected for his movies. A fact that did not deter Sharon in the least.
“You are one of Northstar Films’ biggest actors,” she said, pouting. “Your westerns, even when they get bad reviews—help keep them afloat. You have enough clout there to pull this off, Beau.”
Maybe. Maybe not. But that really wasn’t the issue, Beau thought, as behind him the front door opened and closed.
Sharon peered over Beau’s shoulder and abruptly looked even more aggrieved. “What is she doing here?” Sharon turned toward Beau accusingly. “I thought you said we’d be completely alone this morning.”
Regretting that he hadn’t bothered to lock the front door of the dance hall after Sharon had come in, Beau turned to see who had entered. Somehow he wasn’t surprised to see Dani framed in the dance-hall entrance. She looked even more beautiful than she had when he’d said good-night to her last night and—beneath her customary surface cool—even more distressed as she glided toward them. “I was looking for Greta.”
“Greta is not here,” Sharon said icily, shooting daggers at Dani with her eyes. “And you are not welcome here, either, after what you said about my last movie!”
It was all Beau could do not to grin. Dani’s review of Sharon’s most recent work had gotten her where it hurt and had been so on target it was almost funny. People were still quoting it.
Dani walked across the dance floor. As she neared Sharon, she shrugged. “If you don’t want to have your work reviewed, don’t act.”
Sharon’s jaw dropped. She shot a sharp look at Beau, then demanded hotly, “Are you going to let that little witch talk to me that way?”
Proud of the way Dani was standing up to his ex-wife, Beau shrugged. “I don’t think anyone can stop Dani Lockhart from speaking her mind.” He sure hadn’t been able to. He turned back to Dani and held her eyes.
Her gaze didn’t waver from his in the slightest. “How right you are about that,” she remarked sassily.
Sharon released an exasperated breath. “Well, I am not going to stand here and take it,” she declared emotionally. Tossing her head again, she gave Beau another dark meaningful look. “You remember what I said, Beau Chamberlain.” She reached into her purse, pulled out a card with a phone number scrawled across the back. “When you have something to report, you can reach me here.”
Beau lifted a brow. “A little beneath your usual accommodations, isn’t it?” Generally Sharon declined anything less than four stars, five hundred dollars a night.
“It’s all this one-horse town has available right now, due to some wedding that went on last weekend! And don’t think I’m happy about it, either!” She left in a waft of expensive perfume.
“What are you doing here?” Beau finally asked Dani.
Dani sauntered closer, looking pretty and trim in a sleeveless pink cotton tunic and matching trousers. “Call me nosy.” Dani slid her hands into the pockets of her trousers. She stopped just short of him and tilted her head up to his, looking deep into his eyes. “I wanted to know what my husband was up to.”
Noting the unaccustomed possessiveness of her words, it was all Beau could do not to grin. Dani might not want to admit it, even to herself, but she was quickly getting as emotionally involved with him as he was with her. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. Damn but she was pretty, even this early in the morning, even when she was obviously determined to play it cool with him. “How’d you know I was here?” he asked softly.
“My sister Jenna saw you enter the dance hall with Sharon, and she stopped by to tell me.”
Beau tensed at the accusation in her low tone. “And you and your sister immediately jumped to conclusions and thought the worst,” he guessed.
Dani shrugged and continued regarding him warily. If this was a problem, she wasn’t backing away. “I don’t want to be made a fool of,” she said bluntly.
Beau shot her an understanding glance. “No one does.”
Dani paused for a long thoughtful moment. She raked her teeth across her lower lip. “Sharon’s still blackmailing you, isn’t she?”
Beau nodded. Briefly he explained what his ex-wife wanted now.
Dani’s amber eyes clouded with worry. “Are you going to do what she wants?”
“I don’t know.” Beau paused and looked down into Dani’s upturned face. Taking in the compassion in her eyes, it was all he could do not to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she went limp with longing. Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he continued, “I’m against giving in to blackmail on principle. But I have to admit that right now, because of you and the baby, I’m tempted to do whatever’s necessary to get her off my back, even if it means using every bit of clout I have to get her cast in another movie role.” Right now he didn’t want anything
interfering with his relationship with Dani. He had an idea Sharon would like nothing better than to break them up, to assuage her own ego and wounded pride.
Dani shook her head and warned, “If you buy her off again, it’ll be twice you’ve given in to her demands. She’ll never stop.”
Beau grinned. “I knew there was something I liked about you. Your voice of reason.”
“I mean it, Beau,” Dani said passionately. “Don’t let that woman do this to you.”
Beau took her hands in his. They were soft and slender and very feminine. “I’m not going to let her hurt you, Dani.” He underlined every word.
Dani shrugged off his concern while still clinging to his hands. “She won’t.”
Beau frowned, his worry about the situation, his need to protect Dani, increasing with every second that passed. “You say that now.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and led her over to the chair he’d been sitting in, then guided her into it. “But, for our baby’s sake and our own, we’re going to have to announce our marriage soon.” Beau lifted another chair down from the tabletop and positioned it so he and Dani could sit knee to knee. Once seated, he leaned forward and took her hands in his again. “And if we do that in the midst of all these bogus charges of Sharon’s, it’s going to put you right in the middle of a public slugfest. The press will scrutinize you and everyone close to you.”
Dani was silent. He imagined she was thinking not just of the three of them, but her sisters, her nephew, Jeremy.
After a moment Dani released a beleaguered sigh. She withdrew her hands from his, got to her feet and began to pace. “How did you ever get involved with a woman like Sharon, anyway?”
Beau had asked himself that same question many times. As much as he was loath to admit it, a big part of it had been the sex. Sharon was very good in bed. But sex without love was—in the long run, when the lust and excitement wore off—worse in many ways than being alone. It wasn’t a mistake Beau ever intended to make again. Good sex alone just wouldn’t cut it. He needed more from the woman in his life. Much more.
The Bride Said, I Did? Page 11