The Bride Price

by Ginna Gray

  “Where do you live?” The question came out of nowhere, startling Wyatt as much as it did her.

  Maggie cocked her head and gave him a wary look. “Why do you want to know?”

  “I don’t know. Just curious, I guess.”

  “I see,” she murmured, and turned back to the suitcase.

  “So where do you live?”

  Lord, but the man was tenacious. “Oh...not too far from here,” she said with a casual wave of her hand.

  “In Texas that could mean anywhere from a mile to fifty.”

  “That’s right.” She hung the last garment in the closet, stowed the suitcase on the shelf, picked up the tux from the bed where she’d left it and headed for the door. “If there’s nothing more, I’ll take this with me. Someone will return it in plenty of time for the party.”

  “Wait! You didn’t answer my question.”

  She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and looked at him over her shoulder. Her devilish grin flashed. “I know.”

  Before he could speak, she darted out and hightailed it down the hall. She ducked into her own room, barely a split second before she heard his door open again.

  Collapsing back against the door, she closed her eyes. “Whew. That was close.”

  “What was close? What have you done now? And what are you doing with that tuxedo? Honestly, Margaret Mary, if you’ve been up to mischief again—”

  “Daphne!” Maggie’s eyes popped open and focused on her sister. “What’re you doing in my room?”

  “I came to talk to you about tonight, but first tell me what you’ve done.”

  “Oh, that. ‘Twas nothing. Forget it. You look upset. Is something wrong?” Maggie had learned over the years that the surest way to sidetrack Daphne was to turn the conversation to her favorite subject: Daphne. This time was no exception.

  She twisted her hands together and began to pace. “Not upset, exactly. Just...well...concerned.”

  “Oh? About what?” Maggie tossed the tux into a chair, then crossed the room and flung herself backward onto the bed, bouncing twice. Daphne rolled her eyes and sighed.

  “About you. Margaret Mary, you’ve got to give me your solemn vow that you will behave tonight. This party is important to me. And to Grandpére. He wants this tie with the Sommersby family very much. If you do something to wreck the party or my engagement to Eric, I’ll...I’ll just die. And there is no telling what Grandpére will do.”

  Maggie sighed at the affectation. Ever since they had attended that finishing school in Switzerland and learned French, Daphne had taken to calling Asa by that ridiculous title, at least when he wasn’t around. Asa hated it, and had told Daphne so in no uncertain terms, but she seemed to think sprinkling her conversations with French words made her sound worldly and sophisticated.

  “I see. Afraid I’ll embarrass you?”

  “Well...yes,” she admitted in an abashed tone, then added huffily, “It has happened before.”

  “If you say so. But tell me, what, exactly, are you afraid I’ll do?”

  “That’s just the trouble. You’re so...so...uninhibited one never knows what you’ll do next. Or what you’ll say. It’s unnerving. I want tonight to be perfect.”

  “Heavens, Daph. If you feel that way, why did you even invite me to the party?” Given a choice, she would have gladly stayed away. The brittle, chic affairs that her step-mother threw were not at all Maggie’s cup of tea.

  “Because you’re my sister. Of course I would invite my own sister to my engagement party,” Daphne insisted, her voice sharp with indignation. Then she spoiled it by adding, “Anyway, Grandpére insisted that you be here. You know how he feels about family occasions.”

  “Yes.” Maggie’s mouth twisted wryly. She should have known it was Asa, not Daphne or Corinne, or even Tyson, who had issued the invitation.

  Asa was big on family. Maggie didn’t particularly share her grandfather’s sentiments on the subject. She valued freedom and independence much more than familial relationships. Why should she feel bound to a person just because they happened to share the same gene pool?

  Family ties were too confining for Maggie. Close relationships of any kind made her feel trapped. She did not want the responsibility or the limitations that went with kinship or romantic love. The more strings someone tried to put on her, the more suffocated and panicky she felt and the harder she fought them.

  Still, she was fond of Asa, so for his sake she occasionally gritted her teeth and bore get-togethers such as this one. At least for as long as she could.

  “I’m serious, Maggie. You have to promise you won’t do anything crazy tonight, not just for my sake, but for Grandpére’s. He’s delighted that I am going to marry Eric. He’s been trying to establish a connection with the Sommersbys for years.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s looking for someone to succeed him in the business. You know that Tyson is helpless when it comes to business. Since I can’t do it, and you won’t, Grandpére’s hoping one of us will marry a man capable of taking over for him when he retires.”

  Maggie gave a little shudder. “Then it will have to be up to you. I’m not interested in marriage.”

  “Don’t be silly, Margaret Mary, every woman wants to get married.”

  “Not this one. Anyway, I don’t see what Asa’s worried about. First of all, that old warhorse will never retire. He’ll probably die at his desk when he’s one hundred. Secondly, he has a whole army of top executives to run the business if by some miracle he did retire.”

  “I know, but he wants someone in the family to be in control, someone he can trust who has experience and know-how. Since Eric’s older brother Wyatt took over Sommersby Enterprises twelve years ago he’s more than tripled their family’s fortune.”

  “I see. So you’re marrying Eric to please Asa.”

  “Of course not!” Daphne snapped. Maggie cocked one auburn eyebrow and met her sister’s glare with a skeptical look. Daphne’s irate expression quickly turned to chagrin.

  “Oh, all right. I admit Asa did encourage me to date Eric. But I’m marrying him because I love him, so you needn’t act so disapproving.”

  “Hey. ‘Tis your life. I’ve no stake in it.” For her sister’s sake, however, she did hope that Daphne truly cared for Eric and hadn’t merely convinced herself that she did in order to please Asa. Maggie didn’t think much of love herself, but it was better than cold calculation.

  “If Eric’s brother is the one in charge, I’m surprised that Asa didn’t sic you on him.”

  A guilty look flickered over Daphne’s face. She looked away and began to fiddle with a perfume bottle on the dresser.

  Maggie jerked to a sitting position, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. “Sweet Mary and Joseph. Don’t tell me you actually tried your luck with Wyatt Sommersby?”

  “Yes. No! That is...I did try to interest him, but then I realized that he’s not my type. He’s too...too...over-powering.”

  I’ll say, Maggie thought. She was amazed that her sister ever got up the nerve to even approach the man. Daphne was not shy, but she was accustomed to having men chase after her. “Ah, Daph, you goose, you. ‘Tis a wonder he didn’t tear you to shreds and have you for breakfast.”

  Folding her arms, Daphne hugged herself and shivered. “I know. He’s very frightening. And rude, too. But he is the head of the family so I have to be nice to him. He’s going to be here tonight. That’s why I want you to promise you won’t do or say anything inappropriate.”

  “Don’t worry, Daphne. When I meet Mr. Sommersby tonight I’ll be the soul of decorum. Cross my heart.” Maggie saw no point in telling her that she’d already met Wyatt Sommersby, or under what circumstances. Daphne would only get in a tizzy and make herself sick, and what good would that do? What was done was done and there was no undoing it.

  Mr. Sommersby might even see the whole thing as funny. Assuming the man had a sense of humor.

  * * *

  Wyatt searched t
he room for a mane of red curls, but none of the maids circulating among the guests with trays of drinks even remotely resembled a certain pint-sized pixie.

  “Well, what do you think, my boy? Some shindig, huh?”

  “Yes. Yes, it is,” Wyatt agreed, abandoning his search. Standing between Asa and Corinne Hightower, he sipped champagne and studied the milling throng that filled the living room and spilled out through the three sets of French doors onto the patio and pool area at the back of the house. He had to admit, for a man who had jerked himself up by his bootstraps, Asa knew how to throw one helluva party.

  The champagne was superb, the musicians were top-notch and the buffet in the dining room rivaled the menu at Maxim’s.

  Wyatt’s gaze swept the room, and a cynical smile tugged at his mouth. The guests included the upper echelon of Texas society. Some had flown in from Dallas and San Antonio and West Texas, others from as far away as Paris and the Riviera. Wyatt knew that most had come because Eric’s name had been on the invitation. Which, he suspected, was at least part of the reason Asa was so eager for this marriage to take place.

  Asa Hightower was a diamond in the rough. His wealth had gained him a toehold in Houston’s society, but he was more tolerated than accepted. The cachet of the Sommersby name would go a long way toward changing that.

  A black-and-white uniform caught Wyatt’s eye. His gaze darted to the woman serving drinks on the other side of the room, but immediately his mouth tightened. The hair beneath the frilly white maid’s cap was brown.

  “Wyatt! There you are.”

  He looked around and saw Daphne bearing down on him with Eric and her brother Tyson in tow. Wyatt managed a tight smile. “Hello, Daphne. Tyson. Little brother.”

  “Sorry we weren’t here when you arrived,” Eric said, thumping his older brother on the back. “I heard you had some trouble with the Aston-Martin.”

  “A little, but it’s being taken care of.”

  “Why don’t you get rid of that money pit? It’s in the shop almost as much as on the road.”

  “True. But some things are worth the trouble.”

  Eric glanced down at Daphne and his face softened. “Yeah. I know.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. Smiling up at him, she snuggled close.

  The look on his brother’s face was so besotted Wyatt almost gagged. It was sickening. Hell would freeze over before he turned to mush over any woman. Especially not a gushy one like his brother’s fiancée.

  “We’ve been looking all over for you, Wyatt,” Daphne said, slipping her arm through Eric’s.

  “Really? I’ve been right here with your grandfather all along.”

  “Oh, well. I guess we just missed each other. I hope you’re enjoying the party. I do think it’s a success, don’t you?” she asked, sending an anxious glance around the room.

  “It’d damned well better be,” Asa snapped. “I told these two women not to spare the horses. I want all these hoity-toity snobs to know when Asa Hightower throws a party it’s a humdinger.”

  Tyson chuckled, but his mother looked pained. “Father Hightower, really,” Corinne admonished softly. “What a thing to say. Please excuse my father-in-law, Mr. Sommersby. He was just joking.”

  Asa snorted and muttered under his breath, “The hell I was.”

  “The reason Eric and I weren’t here to meet you,” Daphne said, “is that we were in Dallas, picking out rings. I told your brother I would be happy with a simple gold band but he insisted that I have this one.”

  The hand she held out sported a diamond ring of at least five carats. Wyatt thought it was gaudy as hell, but he murmured a dutiful “Very nice,” and his future sister-in-law preened like a peacock.

  “I’m marrying the most beautiful woman in the world. Only the best is good enough.”

  “Oh, Eric. You say the sweetest things.”

  Wyatt had to grit his teeth to keep from groaning. His brother was gazing at his fiancée like a lovesick pup. What the devil did he see in the woman?

  “Where is that girl?” Corinne fretted. Craning her neck, she searched the room. “I haven’t seen her all evening. She gets more irresponsible by the day. I told her that we wanted to make the announcement at precisely ten. It’s five till, and she’s not here yet. You really should talk to her, Asa. This is simply intolerable.”

  “Ah, Mom, don’t worry.” Tyson patted his mother’s arm. “She’ll be here.”

  “Maybe we should go ahead without her,” Daphne suggested.

  “No! Not without Maggie,” Asa snapped.

  Wyatt’s head snapped around. “Who?”

  “But, Grandpére—”

  “Dammit, girl, I told you not to call me that! And I meant what I said. No announcement until she gets here.”

  “Now, Asa, be reaso—”

  “Here she comes,” Tyson announced.

  Wyatt’s head swiveled in the direction that Asa’s grandson was looking, and his mouth dropped open.

  The dainty vision in emerald green silk making her way toward them, red curls piled elegantly atop her head and glittering in the soft light, was none other than one Maggie Muldoon.

  Chapter Three

  Maggie saw the shock that spread over Wyatt Sommersby’s face. She grinned and waggled her fingers at him.

  Even from a distance she could see his jaws clench and his face tighten and darken, but he recovered his composure quickly and forced his expression into impassive lines.

  He didn’t fool Maggie for a minute. He was angry, all right. She could see it in the set of his mouth and the icy glitter in his narrowed gray eyes. Her grin widened. Poor man, she thought cheerily. No sense of humor a’tall.

  He was a good-looking devil, though. Black hair and silver gray eyes were a stunning combination, Maggie decided. Especially when combined with a face that looked as though it had been chiseled out of rock.

  He was no shrimp, either. Her grandfather was a big man, but standing beside him, Wyatt topped Asa’s six foot one by a good inch or more. And those shoulders looked as though they were at least an ax handle wide. Altogether, he was a gorgeous specimen—rich, good-looking and oodles of animal magnetism. Women probably tripped over themselves trying to interest him, she thought, chuckling.

  “It’s about time you got here, young lady,” Asa thundered when she drew near. “Where the devil have you been?”

  “Oh, here and there. Have you been looking for me?”

  “Of course I’ve been looking for you. Humph! A fine thing. I haven’t seen you in over a month and you didn’t even bother to come say hello when you arrived.”

  “Because you weren’t here. Mrs. O’Leary said you’d taken the chopper to Houston.” Ignoring Wyatt, Maggie went up on tiptoes and gave her grandfather’s chin a kiss. “Hello, Asa, you old grump.”

  “Cheeky brat,” the old man grumbled, but his eyes were filled with pride and love.

  She greeted her sister and Corinne with a hug and complimented them on their appearance before finally turning her gaze on Wyatt.

  To meet that glittering stare she had to tip her head back at a sharp angle. Up close she could see the frustration and outrage in his eyes, and she found herself battling a strong urge to laugh. She managed to assume a polite expression but she knew the slight curl of her lips and the amusement in her eyes gave her away. “Hello, Mr. Sommersby.”

  He nodded. “Maggie,” he said softly—too softly. “I’m surprised to see you here, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

  Oh, yes. He was definitely angry, she thought, feeling a bubble of laughter sliding up her throat.

  “What’s this? You mean you’ve already met my granddaughter?”

  In a fraction of a second Wyatt’s hard-fought composure deserted him again. His head snapped around, and he stared at Asa. “Your granddaughter?”

  “That’s right. Didn’t she tell you?”

  “No. No, as a matter of fact, she didn’t.” He zeroed in on Maggie again. “That’
s one item you neglected to mention.”

  Not one whit intimidated, Maggie chuckled. “I don’t believe we got around to exchanging life stories, Mr. Sommersby. As I recall, you didn’t seem to have any doubts as to who—or should I say, what—I was.”

  “When did you and Margaret Mary meet? And how? And why didn’t you tell me you knew Wyatt?” Daphne demanded.

  “Maggie and I met this afternoon. She gave me a ride from Magnolia.” Throughout the explanation, Wyatt’s gaze never left Maggie.

  “Oh, dear Lord. You mean in that horrid old truck of hers?” Daphne covered her face with both hands and groaned against her palms. “I don’t believe it. Margaret Mary, how could you? I begged you to get rid of that disreputable vehicle ages ago. I don’t know how you can bear for anyone to see you in it.”

  She sent Asa a desperate look. “You see! What did I tell you? I knew she would do something to ruin my engagement party. I just knew it! Ever since she first came into this house she’s been doing things like this to me.”

  “Oh, hush up, girl. Nobody’s doing anything to you. And your party isn’t ruined. Why, I’ll bet you Wyatt even enjoyed that little ride. Didn’t you, my boy?”

  Wyatt tore his laser stare away from Maggie long enough to cast a sardonic glance Asa’s way. “I wouldn’t exactly say enjoy. However, I did appreciate the lift.... I thought you had only one granddaughter, Asa.”

  “Humph! I might as well have. This one’s never around. She’s always flitting off somewhere or another. You might as well try to hold on to a rainbow as try and control her. She’s got a restless soul, just like her grandmother.”

  A faraway look entered Asa’s eyes. “Until the last few years, when the sickness sapped her strength, my sweet Jessie was the same. She was like a beautiful wild bird, one no man could ever tame completely, yet you knew you were blessed that she allowed you to be part of her life.”

  “Why, Asa,” Maggie said, staring at her grandfather with amazement. “You never told me that. I always thought I was just...I don’t know...different.”

  Asa blinked his misty eyes and cleared his throat. “I thought it was obvious,” he said gruffly.