The Marriage Bargain. Susan Fox P.

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      CHAPTER TWO

      THE second thing Hallie learned about Wes Lansing was that he was a despot. Domineering and exacting, with a faint edge of impatience that she sensed more than saw. Before they left Texas, they saw an attorney to draw up the prenuptial agreement that sealed their bargain for the Lansing homestead. They’d also put in writing an agreement that kept either of them from making claim to money or property either of them currently owned or might inherit in the future.

      Through it all, Wes seemed to watch every move she made and having so much attention was wearing. She was accustomed to being invisible, so his constant surveillance twisted her nerves so tight that her body felt as taut as piano wire. Her head was pounding by the time their plane touched down in Las Vegas.

      In the brisk manner she was quickly coming to expect, Wes ushered her off the jet and through the airport terminal. Unburdened by luggage, they were outside in the Nevada heat far ahead of the swarm of tourists who had packed their flight from Texas. Wes chose the nearest cab and they got in.

      Once they’d gotten a marriage license, the afternoon descended into a whirlwind course through the largest shopping mall in Las Vegas. Hours later, they walked out to a waiting cab with the boxes and bags that contained everything Wes decreed was needed for their wedding.

      At least she’d paid for her own clothing. Pride dictated it, and a healthy personal bank account made it possible. Neither of them considered the pomp and extravagance of a traditional wedding dress, but she’d ended up buying more than the dress she would wear for the ceremony. Because she owned little more than jeans and work clothes, she took the opportunity to buy three other dresses that appealed to her, along with shoes and lingerie.

      Once she’d gone that far, she stopped at a salon where her long hair was shampooed, trimmed, then twisted into a classic style atop her head. She’d even visited a cosmetics counter. Though she’d felt silly letting the clerk talk her into an array of cosmetics, the woman had engineered something of a makeover.

      Why had she allowed that?

      As Hallie stood in front of the full-length mirror in their hotel suite, she saw her answer in the polished glass.

      She no longer looked like a ranch hand; she was a bride. The white linen dress and matching jacket she wore were elegant and sophisticated. The white floppy-brimmed hat that rested stylishly on her upswept hair framed a face that the subtle enhancement of light makeup and lip color had made lovely.

      She hadn’t known she could look like this. Hadn’t suspected. The stifling extreme that kept her every word and act under rigid control had also dictated her secret aversion to adopting any manner or look that could even remotely be interpreted as a challenge to Candice. It had meant no makeup, no stylish hairstyles, no feminine clothes. She’d smothered almost every natural desire or instinct that might have invited unpleasant comparisons. Or ridicule.

      Wes had given her an excuse to indulge her long repressed instincts and she’d gone a little overboard. He now had a bride who wouldn’t shame him in front of a justice of the peace, but she could never go back to the Four C’s looking like this. After the ceremony, the fine clothing and makeup would come off. Everything she’d bought today would be neatly folded into a box or a bag and the magic would be hidden away in a closet in her bungalow on Four C’s. Because it was essential to keep their marriage secret, she doubted anyone but Wes Lansing would ever see her like this. She struggled against the private pain of that.

      His bride was a Corbett. He’d kept that fact firmly in mind all afternoon and he’d watched her closely for any sign of perfidy. At first, he’d seen nothing but a reserved, aloof young woman. But the way her gaze frequently shied from his until she rarely looked his way, made him increasingly suspicious. What were her real motives for marriage?

      Wes took this moment to study her as he looked through the open door into the suite’s bedroom. Unaware of him, Hallie stared into the cheval mirror in the corner. The unguarded play of emotion that crossed her face fascinated him. She searched her reflection as if she’d never seen it before. And maybe she hadn’t. He knew instantly that it wasn’t conceit that made her stare at herself, it was surprise. The chic female image in the glass bore no trace of the ranch hand he’d left Texas with.

      He read her wistful, almost poignant expression and got a fresh glimpse into what her life had been like. Candice Corbett was a spoiled, selfish little witch. The shy, reclusive Hallie probably suffered enough from her cousin without calling attention to the fact that she was beautiful enough to put Candice in the shade if she’d ever half tried.

      What kind of female was Halona Corbett? Why would she put up with the mistreatment of her family years past age eighteen when she could have left home and struck out on her own?

      He’d seen the passion in her eyes when she’d said she’d not been able to stand by and do nothing to get Four C’s, and yet instinct told him she’d stayed for more than a ranch. Could she have been so undermined by her upbringing that she didn’t realize that she could go anywhere else and have a better life? Did she have so little self-confidence?

      Or did she cling to the ideal of loyalty and duty to family? There was no way to equate family loyalty and duty with her choice to marry into the clan that took up the other side in a generations-long feud. Unless it was part of some new Corbett scheme. Could she be using him in some twisted way to earn her grandfather’s approval?

      Halona Corbett was a mystery wrapped in an intriguing package. What had started that afternoon as a daring chance to reclaim the homestead had evolved into much more by nightfall. There was no denying that his instant attraction to her had made her offer of a bargain more compelling, СКАЧАТЬ