“I can hardly believe that old boy is finally settling down,” Judge Schapiro said, settling into the seat beside hers rather than returning to the one behind his desk. “Tell me, Dr. Brightwater, how did you manage to rope the wildest bronc in Texas?”
She smiled slightly, though his words made her stomach clench. “Now, now, Your Honor. How do you know he isn’t the one who roped me?”
He slapped his thigh, laughing out loud. “Well, if he did, then he’s a lucky man. I like you, young lady. You take my advice and keep a tight rein on that one. He’s had his head for far too long already.”
“I’ll do that.”
There was a commotion just beyond the doors, and then they opened and three people spilled through them, talking all at once. But Lucinda only saw Holden. He took her breath away. His tanned good looks accented the dark suit and snow-white shirt underneath. He seemed broader in the shoulders, dressed this way. It pleased her to think he’d taken pains to look the part of eager groom. Even while the thought of trying to seduce him scared her to death.
“Lucy,” he said, coming forward to take both her hands, drawing her close for a brief, brotherly kiss. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had trouble digging up a second witness.”
She managed to look past him to where his brother Logan stood, clearly stunned and confused. Beside him was a young woman Lucinda had seen at the ill-fated christening party. She had pretty brown hair pulled back in a no-nonsense bun, and huge brown eyes behind a pair of gold wire-rimmed glasses.
“Lucy, you know my brother Logan?” Holden asked.
Lucinda nodded toward Logan. “Thanks so much for coming,” she said.
“I don’t know you very well, Lucinda, but I have to tell you I think you’re making a hell of a mistake here.”
Lucinda felt her eyes widen. The other woman gasped out loud, and Holden shot his brother a glare that would have wilted lettuce.
“I’m sorry, Holden, but I have to say it. This is coming out of nowhere, and we both know you have motives she knows nothing about. Lucinda, are you sure you’re aware of what you’re getting into?”
Holden gripped his brother’s arm. “Maybe we’d better have a talk outside, little brother.”
“Holden, no.” Lucinda made her voice as calm as she could manage. “Logan, I appreciate your concern. I do. But your brother has been very honest with me about his…situation, as well as his motives. And I assure you, I’m not some bubble-headed twit who would make a decision like this without giving it serious thought.”
“Yeah? Well, neither was my mother. But she spent the next several decades paying for it all the same.”
“Logan, maybe you should let Dr. Brightwater make her own decisions,” the woman said, her voice soft, her brown eyes on Logan’s face.
Logan sighed, and glanced down at Holden’s hand on his arm. Holden let go.
“Some wedding day these two are giving you, isn’t it?” the woman asked, dragging her gaze from Logan’s and offering a hand to Lucinda. “I’m Emily Applegate, Logan’s assistant at the Fortune TX offices.”
“And the only poor soul they could drag away on such short notice to be our second witness, I would guess,” Lucinda said, taking the woman’s hand.
“I’m glad to do it,” she replied.
Lucinda could see that she was. In fact, from the way she looked at her boss, Lucinda guessed Emily would likely be glad to do just about anything he asked of her.
The judge cleared his throat, and all four heads turned in his direction. “If you’re ready to proceed?”
Lucinda blinked in surprise as Holden’s hand closed around hers. She was scared, trembling a bit, and completely unsure that rushing headlong into this marriage was the right thing to do. The thing was, it was the only thing to do right now. It made perfect sense, didn’t it?
“You ready, Lucy?”
She glanced up at Holden. His hand on hers tightened, and his deep blue eyes searched her face. As if telling her this was it, her last chance to back out of the deal. She licked her lips as his hand warmed hers, and she felt herself nod firmly.
“Good.” Holden tugged an envelope from an inside pocket and set it on the judge’s desk. “The license,” he said.
With a sigh, Logan came to stand at Holden’s side. Emily hurried to take her spot beside Lucinda. And the judge began to speak. But she barely heard a word he said over the buzzing in her head and the pounding of her heart.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Holden took a breath, as nervous as his bride was, he was sure of that. Hell, he knew as well as anyone here that he wasn’t good enough for a woman like Lucy Brightwater. But he’d try to be. For a year, he’d try his damnedest not to make her regret this.
He looked down at her. She was still studying the ring he’d placed on her finger, a delicate band of diamonds and amber. Unusual…but then, so was she. It was his search for the perfect ring that had made him late today.
Lucy tipped her head up finally, her eyes wide and dark and full of mystery…secrets. Holden lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Soft, and trembling slightly as he kissed them. Parting just a little. Just enough to make his stomach knot and his breath catch in his throat.
When he lifted his head again, her eyes were still closed. Ebony lashes resting on her skin.
“Let me be the first to congratulate you,” the judge said, his voice loud, breaking the spell. Lucy’s eyes flashed open and Holden managed to shake the man’s hand without taking his gaze from hers. Emily Applegate gave her a tentative hug, and then Logan followed suit.
“Welcome to the family, sister,” he said gruffly near Lucy’s ear. “If my brother gives you any trouble, you let me know, all right?”
Lucy’s smile was tremulous, overly bright. “Thanks, Logan.”
Logan took Holden’s hand then, pumped it hard. “Treat her right, big brother.”
Holden nodded. “One more favor, Logan?”
Logan’s brows went up. “Why am I not surprised? What is it this time?”
“Don’t tell anyone in the family about this just yet.”
He heard Lucy’s soft gasp and turned toward her. “My God, Holden, you didn’t even tell your family you were getting married? Your…mother?”
“No. And I’d prefer they hear it from me. But not today.”
Logan shook his head. “News like this is going to leak, Holden. Just how long do you think I can—”
“Just until tomorrow,” Holden said. “I just want to give Lucy a day to prepare…before she has to face the lions.”
Logan sighed, looking from Holden to Lucy. Then he sent her a smile. “Don’t let him shake you. Remember, you are one of the lions now.”
She said nothing. Still smiling. But it was false, Holden could see that clearly.
“I just have some papers for you to sign and then you can get on with the celebrating,” the judge interrupted.
He pushed a sheet at Holden, handed him a pen. Holden signed his name and handed the pen to Lucy. She bent over the desk and scrawled “Lucinda” across the line in an elegant, spiky script. Then she paused with the pen’s tip poised on the page. Blinking rapidly, she went on. “Fortune,” she wrote.
She sat beside Holden in his hot little car and he drove. They’d spoken of meaningless, trivial things. Had she packed an overnight bag? Was it all right to leave her cat for the night? Neither of them asking the question foremost in their minds. Now what?
“I…would have liked to have taken you on a real honeymoon,” Holden said, his tone apologetic.
“I hardly expected that,” she replied, frowning at him.
He shook his head. “You deserve that. And a beautiful wedding with all your friends and family there, and a reception going long into the night.”
“Do you really think that’s what I wanted?”
“Isn’t it what every woman wants?”
She shook her head. “I’m not every woman, Holden. And given the circumstances of our ma
rriage, not to mention what’s going on in your family right now, I think we did this in the best way possible.”
“That’s pretty much the rationale I’ve been using.” He licked his lips. “Maybe I can make it up to you…in time.”
“There’s nothing to make up for.” Lucinda leaned her head back against the seat and thoroughly enjoyed having the top down and the wind blowing in her hair. “So where are we going?”
“Someplace special.”
“Five-star hotel with all the bells and whistles?” she asked, not looking forward to that prospect at all.
“Sit back and wait. You’ll see.”
She eyed him, and he sent her a playful wink. Some of the tension between them faded, and she smiled back. “This should be interesting.”
“I hope so.”
He drove for more than an hour, and Lucinda was beginning to think he was lost, because for some time now there had been nothing but wild-looking terrain spread out in every direction. It had her worried.
“Holden, do you think we ought to stop and ask for directions?”
He smiled at her again, that charming, knock-’em-dead smile that worked so well on anything with two X chromosomes. “Who would we ask? That prairie dog over there?”
She didn’t look at the critter. She’d been seeing them more and more often. “Are we lost?”
“No. As a matter of fact, we’re here.” As he said it, he turned onto a dirt track that veered off the main road, and brought the car to a stop at a closed gate with a padlock dangling from one side. Jumping out, he pulled a key from his pocket, undid the lock, and swung the big gate wide. Then he got back in and drove through.
Moments later, Lucinda knew she was gaping, but couldn’t help herself, because the dirt track curved and she saw, finally, Holden’s destination. A two-story log cabin with a double-decker porch on three sides, and a barn-shaped roof, perched along the shore of a lake so still and so clear it looked like a giant mirror reflecting the blue sky. Around it, she could see only trees.
“My God,” she whispered. “Holden, this place is incredible.” She got out of the car and started forward, so mesmerized she blinked in surprise when he spoke again and she realized he was right beside her.
“Better than a five-star hotel?”
“Better than all of them.”
“No heat except the fireplace,” he said. “No lights. We do have a fridge and a water heater that run on LP gas, though, and a generator to run the water pump.”
She didn’t care. She didn’t care in the least. How could Holden have picked such a perfect place for her? She had never pegged him as the sort of man who would like a cabin in the woods. He seemed so urban, so polished. As excited as a child, she hurried up steps made of logs sawed in two lengthwise, and cupped her hands around her face to peer through the nearest window.
Holden laughed softly, and unlocked the door. “Come on, you’ll get a better view from inside.”
He held the door for her, and Lucinda walked through, stopping just inside the door, tipping her head back, her gaze moving slowly up the log wall opposite, with its massive cobblestone fireplace and roughly-hewn mantel. Above that an ancient-looking gun rack held two antique weapons, and above them an old photograph, fading black and white, with a few age spots on its face, hung in an oval frame.
“Who is that?” she asked, pointing.
“Kingston Fortune. My grandfather.”
The man in the photo didn’t look like anyone’s grandfather. It had been taken when he was young, late twenties, perhaps. His hair was longish and wavy, probably blond like Holden’s. His eyes…were very sexy.
“You look like him,” she said.
“You think so?” He sounded surprised, and when she turned it was to see a matching expression on his face.
“You don’t think so?”
He shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it. I’ve been told I look just like my father for so long—”
“Well, your father looked like him, too.”
Holden made a sound of derision. “My father was nothing like him. Kingston…he was a hell of a man. You wouldn’t believe what he survived in his lifetime.”
“No?”
Holden sent her one of his winning smiles. “I’ll tell you about him sometime. His tales make great campfire stories.”
She lowered her head, averting her eyes. The image that had popped into her mind just then, of the two of them, cozy and warm and intimate in front of the fireplace, rattled her.
That was what she was here for, though. She supposed she’d better get used to the idea.
“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.” He took her arm, leading her by his side through the cabin. The lower level was nearly all one huge room. In this first room, the ceilings towered, cathedral-like, but so rustic. Large beams crossed at the top, and a wagon wheel hung from an ancient-looking black-iron chain in the center. Light fixtures shaped like hurricane lampshades dangled from each spoke of the wheel. Kerosene lamps, all of them. The walls were decked in furs and hides, a bear’s head here, a buck with massive antlers over there. The furnishings were clearly chosen for comfort; overstuffed sofa so fat it looked as if a person could get lost in its cushions. Matching love seat and chair. A pair of rockers near the fireplace. A coffee table that was made of no more than a slab sliced off the end of what must have been a giant oak tree, bark still trimming its edges, all of it gleaming beneath thick layers of clear shellac. The floors were hardwood, and woven rugs were scattered here and there for accents.
“This is the living room, and you can see the dining room from here. Basically, it’s the same thing.” He pointed, she nodded. A large table and chairs held court in the opposite half of this room, their backdrop a row of large windows, and not a curtain in sight. Holden led her over there, and stopped beside those windows.
“Best view on the place,” he said.
She nodded in agreement. The windows looked out onto the lake, spreading wide and deep beneath a clear blue sky. Surrounded on all sides, as far as she could tell, by wilderness. Not a smokestack, not a building, not a highway or a telephone pole in sight. “This place is incredible.”
“I agree.” He nodded toward a doorway with a pair of bat-wing doors its only barrier. “Through there is the kitchen, and there’s a pantry and a bathroom off that.” Then he led her back across the sprawling living room, past the staircase, to the door on the opposite side. “Through here is a bedroom and another bath. And there are two more bedrooms upstairs.”
“It’s incredible,” she said. “I could be content to stay here forever.”
She felt his eyes on her, and looked up to see him staring at her with a look that made her stomach tighten in response. Her cheeks heated, and she lowered her eyes. She was going to sleep with him. Why did that seem to be the only thing she could think about?
“I, um, I’ll get our bags,” he said.
She nodded. “Good. I’m ready to get out of this dress and into a pair of jeans.”
He turned, halfway to the front door, and stared back at her. “You were beautiful today, you know. Prettiest bride I ever saw.”
Why was he being so damned nice to her? “Thanks, Holden. That’s very sweet.”
“Wasn’t trying to be sweet,” he replied, heading once again for the door. “Just honest.”
Then he was gone, and she was left to wonder how she was supposed to go through with her not-so-nice little plan when he was trying to make her think he was some kind of saint.
Six
When Holden carried the luggage into the cabin, Lucy was nowhere in sight. But he could hear footsteps, light and quick, coming from above. She must be exploring on her own. He’d thought of bringing her here to give her time to prepare for the moment when she’d have to return with him to face his family—to tell them she was now a Fortune, too. It could be, he realized, a daunting experience. And he didn’t want to push it on her until she felt ready.
He didn’t want
to push anything on her at all. Which was why he intended to honor his agreement to keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t going to touch her, or seduce her, or ever mention again that he felt anything beyond friendship for her. Because he didn’t want her to start caring back. He didn’t want to ruin her life the way his father had ruined his mother’s.
He carried the cases upstairs, through the hall, and poked his head around the corner of the open bedroom door. “Find a room you like?”
She’d been standing near the window, gazing out at the lake, but she turned to face him and nodded. “I can see the lake from the bed in this one.”
“Then this is the one you get,” he said, and set her overnight bag on the foot of the bed. But then he stared at the soft white comforter for a moment. It was rumpled, as if she’d lain upon it for a moment. And he could picture her lying there again…her hair mussed and her eyes sleepy.
“Holden?”
“Hmm?” He didn’t look at her, couldn’t drag his gaze from the mental image of her in that bed, staring up at him with longing in her eyes. “Damn,” he whispered.
Then she was beside him, her hand on his arm. “You okay?”
“What? Oh, um, yeah. Sure.”
She frowned at him, a cute little dimple deepening in her cheek. “I was going to ask about the lake. Is it good for swimming?”
“It’s the best for swimming,” he told her, shaking himself free of the lingering mind warp and focusing on the lady in front of him. “Is that what you’d like to do first? Go swimming?”
Smiling, she nodded. “Seems like the thing to do.”
“And then what?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “Play it by ear, I guess.”
He nodded. “I’ll leave you to change.”
She dove from the dock at the water’s edge into the crystalline water while Holden sat on the shore, too shaken to do more than watch. He’d been in a sorry state from the moment she’d come down the stairs clad only in her bathing suit. He’d certainly seen gorgeous women in less. In nothing. In bikinis that amounted to little more than nothing. The suit Lucy wore was a demure one-piece tank. No plunging neckline or French-cut leg openings. Just a simple tank. It was red. Spandex. Clingy. Her breasts were round underneath it, her legs, long and shapely and exposed to him, her backside, perfect for squeezing. And he wanted her more than he had before.
Million Dollar Marriage Page 8