Fortune's Vengeful Groom. Charlene Sands

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      But he had, years ago. They’d spent one glorious summer laughing and joking and making love. It was his quick wit and ease of manner that had attracted her to him initially. That and his hard, lean, gorgeous body.

      “I can’t possibly cook you dinner, Reese. I’ll have someone else…”

      “No. It’s you or nobody.” His dark eyes held hers firm.

      Eliza thrust her chin up. If he wanted a battle of wills, then she’d oblige. “Then I’m afraid it’ll be nobody. I have to get back inside.” She turned to leave, but his hand snaked out to catch her wrist. He spun her around, and she faced narrowed eyes and a set jaw.

      “You’re bought and paid for, darlin’. To the tune of thirty-five thousand dollars.”

      Eliza’s eyes widened with surprise. She’d been so distraught at seeing Reese again she’d forgotten all about the enormous donation he’d made. “You don’t have that much—”

      His brows shot up. “I do.”

      He caught her staring at the fine cut of his tuxedo, his tie clasp made of solid gold and his handcrafted snakeskin boots. She wiped the curiosity off her face, wishing he would leave. She didn’t care how much money he had now. Seeing him hurt too much. She’d managed to tuck away reminders of his betrayal, but now that he was so near, all of it came rushing back with frightening force.

      “Let go of me,” she said breathlessly.

      He released her immediately.

      “I’ll be over tomorrow night at eight.”

      She shook her head again. “It’s not a good idea, Reese.”

      “They don’t know, do they?”

      He was smug enough not to have to explain. Eliza knew that he spoke of her family and the secret marriage she’d kept from them. She shook her head slowly.

      “Six years, and you still haven’t owned up to the truth. You must have really been…hell, never mind.”

      “Reese, you can’t come over tomorrow night.”

      He scowled. “Would you rather I went to the press? News of the Fortunes was splashed all over the Tribune this morning. You’d think this damn charity event was the second coming or something. Wouldn’t they just love to hear about the sainted Eliza Fortune’s misfortune one summer in Montana? How she got down and dirty with a local cowboy?”

      It hadn’t been like that. That summer had been magical until…She drew oxygen into her lungs. “Is that a threat?”

      He jammed his Stetson back on his head. “Damn straight, darlin’. I don’t make them lightly.”

      Eliza pursed her lips to keep from lashing out. She’d lost this round with Reese. She couldn’t afford for him to make good on his threat. It had taken several years to live down her last romantic debacle with a man who had aspirations of becoming Sioux Falls’ youngest mayor. She’d been engaged to Warren Keyes for six months and broke off the engagement two weeks before the wedding.

      Local news stations and leading headlines in the Tribune had kept a running tally on their breakup for weeks, and Eliza had come out the loser. Her head throbbed as she recalled the pain she’d endured finding her fiancé in bed with his campaign manager. No one knew the entire truth except her family. She’d kept quiet about his infidelity, not out of any concern for him or his campaign but because she hadn’t wanted the public humiliation. Pity was the last thing she’d needed. It was bad enough that she’d suffered public scrutiny, being described as “flighty,” “fickle” and “confused” when she’d walked out on him.

      But what she’d really been was hurt, the injury to a young girl’s heart almost too painful to bear. Warren had used her and her family’s name to attain status in the community for political gain.

      She’d run away then to Montana and had met Reese Parker. The ruggedly handsome cowboy had swept her off her feet. She’d fallen hard for him, and they’d had a summer affair that led to a quick wedding. Now, if the truth got out about her marriage, the term rebound would take on a whole new meaning.

      “Dinner at eight,” he said without compunction. “I doubt you remember my favorite meal, but this really isn’t about food, is it?”

      With that, he strode purposefully off the terrace. Eliza watched the glass door slam shut in his wake.

      “Pot roast and potatoes with creamed spinach,” she muttered softly.

      Then trembled again.

      Reese paced his penthouse suite, striding back and forth with suppressed rage. Eliza Fortune Parker, his wife, had tried to cast him off once again tonight. This time he wasn’t having any of it. She’d see him on his terms, whether she liked it or not. And she hadn’t liked it.

      No, his appearance at her fund-raiser tonight had put a wrench in her nicely tuned life. Reese could take some satisfaction in that. He’d seen fear in her eyes, and that suited him just fine. Let her fear him and what havoc he could cause her.

      She’d caused him enough grief to last a lifetime. Reese shoved his hand into his pocket, coming up with the note she’d written him six years ago, the crinkled, worn parchment he’d been given by a hotel desk clerk a constant reminder to him to succeed in life. Hell, he’d practically used the note as his bible, his guide to never give up. To never let anyone best him again.

      He glanced down at the delicate writing, smudged now and bleeding blue ink.

      The marriage was a mistake. I’m going home. I don’t want to see you again. Ever.

      Ever.

      Damn her. He’d stayed away long enough.

      He knew every cold, harsh word of that note by heart. It was time to end it all, and too bad if it didn’t fit into Eliza’s plans.

      Before his father died last month, he’d made Reese promise that he’d get his affairs in order. With unspoken words, he’d immediately known what his father had meant. Normally, Cole Parker didn’t pull punches. He’d been one up-front tell-it-like-it-is kind of man. But his father had known that Eliza Fortune Parker had been Reese’s one weak spot so he’d trod carefully.

      It’s time, Reese, he’d said, almost on his last breath. Take hold of your life, son.

      His father had been right. It was time.

      But Reese would take his time, making Eliza squirm, upending her perfect little world, showing her that he wasn’t the sweet-natured, bronc-busting cowboy she could tie up in knots, anymore.

      God, he’d been a fool thinking that the rich, pretty socialite would be happy with a down-on-his-luck cowboy.

      Reese winced and crumpled the note, shoving it back into his pocket.

      Man, but he’d loved her. She’d come to Montana and he’d seen something unique in her, something beautiful in her heart. She’d turned him on with that body of hers, wearing clothes that hid her perfection. His imagination СКАЧАТЬ