Back In Fortune's Bed. Bronwyn Jameson

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      At one time she would have shared those details with Max—she’d called him, Lord knows, she’d tried. But not now. Not after those coldly delivered accusations.

      Instead she fastened on the other untruth in his argument. “I didn’t leave you, Max. I went home because I had to…and only after we agreed that we saw our relationship somewhat differently. You wanted sex, I wanted more.”

      He stared at her a moment, no sign of giving in the hard set of his face. It was the same uncompromising expression as the night they’d quarreled, when she’d realized how woefully she’d misconstrued their relationship. “You wanted to get married that bad?” he asked now. “That you said yes to the first batter up after I walked away from the plate?”

      “It wasn’t like that,” she fired back. “David was my father’s business partner. I didn’t agree to marry him for the sake of a wedding band, okay?”

      His lips compressed into a straight line of condemnation, and Diana realized that her angry outburst added weight to his belief she’d been involved with David all along. She thought about rephrasing but what did it matter? Driving here today she’d cautioned herself about getting involved again. She did not need this old heartache.

      “My relationship with you was over when I returned to New York and you didn’t bother to acknowledge my calls,” she said, mustering some dignity and wrapping it around her like a protective cloak. “It’s been ten years. Why are we rehashing old quarrels?”

      “You brought it up.”

      “And, frankly, I’m sorry I did.”

      “Seems we agree on one thing.”

      For a long moment Diana couldn’t find any comeback, and to her horror she felt the ache of tears building at the back of her throat. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t pretend emotional detachment any more than she’d been able to ten years before.

      “It seems that I’ve come to agree with you on another point.” She swallowed against the painful lump that was making it so dashed difficult to maintain her dignity. “I don’t believe I’m the right photographer for this job after all.”

      “Suit yourself.” He gave a curt shrug. “You’re not indispensable, Diana. I can find a replacement.”

      Glutton for punishment, she had to ask. “Is that what you did after I left Australia? Is that why you never returned my calls?”

      He paused in opening the stable door, close enough now that she could see the wintry chill of his eyes and beneath the green patina a hint of some deeper emotion. Pain? Regret? Frustration? He shut the door behind him with a thud of finality and whatever she’d thought she’d seen was gone.

      “Something like that,” he said in answer to her question. Then he touched his hat in a cowboy’s salute of farewell and walked away.

      Two

      “Is there something wrong with your lunch?”

      Diana blinked until the chicken breast she’d been worrying around her plate came into focus. “No, it’s fine.”

      “And you know this,” Eliza asked, “because…?”

      Trust her friend to point out the obvious. Diana gave up on her untouched meal and put down her silverware. “I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.”

      This happened to be a late lunch in the atrium restaurant at the Fortune’s Seven Hotel. The hotel’s ballroom was the scene of next month’s Historical Society Auction to raise funds for reparations to the city’s Old West Museum. The fundraising committee, chaired by Eliza, had met earlier to discuss the function with hotel staff, and Eliza had used her gently persuasive charm to cajole Diana into lunch and a shopping expedition afterward.

      “I’m not good company today,” Diana added.

      “You don’t say.”

      Diana pulled a face at her friend’s dry comment and watched her eyes turn serious as she, too, abandoned her entrée and leaned back in her chair. Eliza waited for the wait-staff to remove their plates before skewering her with the million-dollar question.

      “I don’t suppose this would have anything to do with my Aussie cousin?”

      “Would you believe me if I said no?”

      “No. At Case’s party I could have cut the tension between you two with a butter knife, and I get the feeling you’ve been sidestepping me ever since. You know I’m dying to hear details. Come on,” Eliza coaxed, leaning forward in her chair again. “Spill.”

      As usual, Eliza was right. Diana had been avoiding her friend’s curiosity and now she wished she hadn’t been such a coward. After this morning’s altercation with Max, today had to be the worst possible time for the explanation she owed her best friend. But she did owe Eliza the details she begged, so she might as well get it over and done.

      “We met at a party in Australia,” she began, jumping into the deep end. “On the trip I took after we graduated from Wellesley.”

      Eliza digested this for a moment, shock evident in her blue eyes. “I gave you the contact number for my Aussie relations. You met them and you didn’t say a word?”

      “I’m sorry, Eliza, truly I am. I didn’t meet any of your family except Max, and I didn’t mean to keep him a secret. I just didn’t know how to tell you I was having a hot and heavy affair with your cousin. I knew you’d want details and I couldn’t talk about something I didn’t understand. I don’t even know that I can explain what happened between us now! Then I came home and married David…”

      “And your life fell to pieces,” Eliza finished softly after Diana’s attempted explanation trailed off.

      Their gazes met for a second, remembering the anguish of those years after her forced marriage, when Diana had cut herself off from all her friends. Yet Eliza, her roommate at Wellesley, had continued to send Christmas gifts and birthday cards, and when she’d read about David’s death in a newspaper, she’d flown out to California for the funeral.

      After the service she’d learned the whole sorry story of Diana’s marriage. She met David’s sons, too, and when their attempts to prevent Diana taking anything from her marriage grew vindictive, she’d invited Diana to visit her in Sioux Falls. Diana had only returned to California to pack her things. Her move to Sioux Falls and all the good, confidence-building, independence-gaining things that ensued were all due to Eliza’s friendship.

      “I’m sorry.” Diana’s second apology vibrated with regret and the threat of tears. “I should have told you about Max.”

      “That the hound dog hit on you at a party? Perhaps it’s better you didn’t!”

      Diana managed to smile at Eliza’s teasing remark despite the ache in her chest. That was the thing about her friend—she had a gift of measuring the mood and choosing the perfect moment to СКАЧАТЬ