Hired Bride (15 page)

“Yes, we should,” Zane said slowly as he realized that she could be pregnant this very second. What if she was? How odd that he would be so remiss with
Gwen when he'd never been careless with any other woman.

Pushing the unsettling subject to the back of his mind, he got to his feet and held out his hand to help Gwen up and off the bench.

 

It was during the drive from Kingston Estates to Ramona's house that Gwen started feeling tense and uneasy. What in heaven's name was she doing? Her hands clenched around the steering wheel as her stunned brain painted a vividly detailed picture of herself and Zane in his sauna. How could she have behaved so wantonly? What had happened to her since meeting Zane Fortune? My Lord, was she even the same woman who'd been happily married to a decent, trustworthy man like Paul Hutton and given birth to his three beautiful children?

And there was no glossing over what she'd done at Zane's house, either. She had consented to having an affair with him, she'd told him they must always use protection, indicating an ongoing sexual liaison, and she'd promised to see him tonight!

No, wait, she'd promised to see him
if
she could find a baby-sitter.

It was a way out—for tonight, at least. She could phone Zane and tell him that she had not been able to get a sitter. It would give her some time to think this through, she thought as her head began aching.

By the time she pulled into Ramona's driveway, her head wasn't just aching, it was throbbing. She was also feeling nauseated, which, strangely, gave her hope. Maybe she'd caught a bug. Maybe her symptoms weren't caused by guilt, self-disgust and remorse at all, but by a fast-acting virus.

And then reality hit her. “Stop kidding yourself,” she whispered shakily, and switched off the ignition. “The only virus you've come in contact with today is Zane Fortune!” She got out of the van and stumbled to Ramona's front door.

“Gwen! My goodness, you look awful. Are you ill?” Ramona exclaimed worriedly.

“It's just a headache, Ramona.” The kids ran in and hugged her legs. Bending over, she kissed each of them. “Get your things,” she told them, and off they went to obey.

“Can I get you something for that headache?” Ramona asked.

“Thanks, but I'll wait till I get home.” To Gwen's chagrin, she started crying.

“Okay, that does it,” Ramona said with a sympathetic but determined glint in her pretty, dark eyes. “Something's terribly wrong, and since I'm your best friend, you have to tell me.”

Gwen tried to dry her eyes, but the tears just kept coming. “Oh, I don't want the kids seeing me this way.”

“They won't.” Ramona hurried out, and Gwen could hear her talking quietly to the children in the living room. She was back in the foyer in a minute. “They're going to watch a cartoon video while you and I talk. Come to the kitchen.”

Blubbering, Gwen followed her friend and meekly swallowed the aspirin Ramona gave her, then sat at the table and waited for the water to boil for tea. Ramona put a box of tissues on the table, and Gwen blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

“Thanks. You really are a good friend.”

“And right now you need one. How come? What happened to cause this?”

Gwen looked down at the wad of tissues in her hand. “I—I slept with—Zane,” she finally whispered.

“Today?”

“Yes, I just came from his house.”

Ramona looked troubled, but she made no comment until the tea was ready. Then she brought two cups to the table, placed one in front of Gwen and sat down with the other.

“Are you in love with him?” Ramona asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“Is he in love with you?”

“No.”

“Did you know those things before you slept with him?”

Gwen wiped away another tear attack. “Yes, I knew.” She sniffled. “I haven't even told you the worst part.” When Ramona said nothing, she continued. “I…led him to believe that I would have an affair with him. He thinks I'm going to get a sitter for tonight and—and go out with him. It…seemed perfectly logical while I was with him, but on the way here I—I started falling apart.”

Ramona cleared her throat. “Was today the first time?”

“No,” Gwen whispered so quietly that Ramona almost had to read her lips to decipher her answer. “It happened one other time—at my house. The night of the barbecue.” She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Ramona, what am I going to do?”

“How do you know he's not in love with you?”
Dropping her hands, Gwen glared at her. “Sorry I asked that. You just know, don't you?”

“He told me I'm a very special woman,” Gwen said bitterly.

“Well, you are.”

“Yes, I'm so special that millionaire bachelors are lined up at my door in droves. Ramona, a man like Zane Fortune wants only one thing from a woman like me, and I—I'm such a damn fool, I gave it to him.”

“You're not a fool, and don't say that again. You're in love, and women in love sometimes do foolish things. Okay, you've faced that, and now you're wondering what you should do next. Gwen, you're the only person who can answer that question. I could give you all kinds of advice, but I'm not in your shoes, nor could I possibly feel for Zane what you do. Maybe if you talked to your mother—”

“God, no! Mom and Dad are already calling me fifteen times a day to ask if I have anything to tell them.”

“Why on earth would they be doing that?”

Gwen sighed. “I'm not a hundred-percent sure, but I think it's because Donnie saw Zane on Saturday night and mentioned it when Mom was at my house the next day. She figured out that Zane had spent the night, and ever since I've been getting these weird phone calls from her and Dad.”

“Okay, but why would they think you had something to tell them that they don't already know?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, knowing your folks as I do, I'm sure you'll find out what's going on in due course. Gwen, you're looking much better. Is your headache gone?”

“Just about. I'd better gather the brood and head
for home.” Gwen got up. “Thanks for everything, especially for listening.”

“You know I'm available anytime you need to talk. And, Gwen, don't be too hard on yourself. Only another widow knows how lonely a woman can get sleeping alone night after night.”

Gwen put her arms around her friend for a hug. “You're the best friend ever.” She stepped back. “See you tomorrow morning. Kids!” she called as she left the kitchen. “It's time to go.”

 

“You can't find a baby-sitter?” Zane said into the phone. “What about that older lady I met at your house the night we went to the movie?”

“She already had a job. Zane, I tried everyone I know, but no one is available for tonight. I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do.”

“There are professional baby-sitting services, you know.”

“No strangers, Zane. I draw the line at leaving my kids with strangers.”

“I could come to your house,” he said softly, suggestively.

“Yes, you could, but I would rather you didn't. If you do decide to come over here, you should know that you and I will do nothing more than sit in the living room or kitchen. Do you get my drift?”

“Would you still keep us confined to the living room or kitchen after they're sound asleep?”

“Absolutely. There'll be no more adult doings in this house, Zane, not while I have young, impressionable children.”

“Well, hell,” he muttered. “I'm really disappointed.”

“I'm sure you are.” Try as she might, Gwen could not keep her voice free of sarcasm.

“Sweetheart, you're not changing your mind about us, are you?”

“Maybe you shouldn't ask that question tonight.”

“Gwen, what's wrong?”

She heard some panic in his voice and winced; it had not been her intention to upset him. She still hadn't made up her mind about whether or not to continue their relationship, and at the moment she was planning a quiet evening of soul-searching.

So she lied and said, as calmly as she could, “Nothing is wrong. I'll call you tomorrow.”

“Call? I want to
see
you tomorrow! And why shouldn't I ask you that question tonight? Gwen, are you giving me the runaround?”

Her breath caught for a moment. The “runaround” was exactly what she was giving him. But she wasn't quite ready to tell the man she loved that she was not going to see him again, no matter how many headaches came of their relationship.

“I wouldn't do that,” she said with a flirtatious coyness that took her completely by surprise. Apparently she could lay it on with the best of them, she realized. She just hadn't known that about herself because there'd been no reason to resort to such tactics before Zane.

He accepted her falsehood without question, simply because she'd spoken in a simpering female fashion, she thought. She nearly gagged over her own acting, but she swallowed the impulse and repeated sweetly, “I'll call you tomorrow.”

This time he accepted that as well, and took out his lover's voice, it seemed, polished it a bit and said in
a low and sexy manner, “I'll be waiting to hear from you.”

“Good night, Zane.”

“Good night, sweetheart.”

She put down the phone, got up from her chair and went to take some more aspirin.

Her head was pounding unmercifully.

G
wen's evening of “soul-searching” was cut short when she fell asleep on the couch about an hour after tucking in the kids for the night. And the next day wasn't much better, as far as hitting on any brilliant answers. Gwen took care of her scheduled appointments, worried a lot about what would come out of her mouth when she talked to Zane—which she had to do at some point in the day—and avoided her house and answering machine to delay the inevitable. It depended on what she said to Zane, of course. Last night the old can't-find-a-baby-sitter excuse had worked, but what about later on today? Tonight?

The truth was that she had to make up her mind on a very basic level: Either she had to take Zane as he was and live with her decision without complaints, or get it across to him—using whatever means it took—that she was out of his life, and that was that.

Her love for the conceited jerk was the real problem, of course, and the biggest hurdle to any kind of sensible decision. Factions warred within her.

You will never be happy with an affair.

Maybe that's true, but will I be happy without Zane?

He doesn't love you.

Not now, but maybe in time?

Don't be a dunce!

Around noon Gwen pulled her van into the busy parking lot of a popular mall that contained a little take-out sandwich shop that she frequented about once a week. She went in, ordered her sandwich and a soft drink, and was walking back to her van when she heard someone calling her name.

“Gwen! Yoo-hoo, Gwen!”

Gwen stopped walking and looked around. Spotting an older woman whom she vaguely recognized as being a relative of some friend of her parents, she smiled. Thank goodness she remembered her name. “Hello, Helen.”

Helen rushed up and hugged Gwen, sandwich bag and soft drink in one fell swoop. “I'm so
happy
for you, Gwen,” the woman trilled.

Totally taken aback by so much enthusiasm for something Gwen couldn't begin to imagine, she smiled weakly. “Thanks…I think. Helen, I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Now, now, you mustn't be shy. Why, you've caught the most eligible bachelor in the entire county. You should be proud, young woman, proud. Your folks are, I know. They've been boasting to everyone, even strangers in restaurants, and I don't blame them a bit.”

Gwen felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Boasting about what, Helen?”

“Your engagement to Zane Fortune, of course.” Helen tittered. “Oh, my, you should see your face. I'll bet you thought Jack and Lillian were going to keep mum until the formal announcement, didn't you?”

Gwen could feel the color draining from her face. “Mom and Dad are telling people that Zane and I
are…” Her voice failed her, and she finished in a shocked, near whisper. “…going to be married?”

“They're telling
everyone!
And why wouldn't they? Goodness,” Helen gushed, “it's not every day that a woman lands a fish as big as Zane Fortune.” Helen colored a little. “There I go, prattling on a bit too much. I'm sure you don't think of your fiancé as the biggest fish in the sea, but—”

“I'm sorry, I've got to go. Goodbye, Helen.” Gwen walked away. Before she reached her van she came to a trash can, and she dropped her lunch into it.

Helen called, “But, Gwen, you didn't show me your ring!”

Saying nothing because she was actually afraid of what she
might
say, Gwen climbed into her van and drove from the parking lot. A few minutes later, weaving through traffic, she realized where she was heading—to her parents' house. Her dad might be home, he might not; but her mother probably was, and this couldn't wait. Twenty minutes later she drove into the Lafferty driveway and parked next to her father's pickup. He was here.
Good.
With a trembling hand, she turned off the ignition.

“How could they?” she whispered in a shaky little voice. “How could they do such a thing?”

Pulling herself together, she got out and walked around the house to the kitchen door, which she knew was only locked at night. Her parents were having lunch at the kitchen table, and they both saw her through the window in the door at the same time.

Grinning and chuckling all over the place, they jumped up and ran to greet her. She was hugged and kissed before she could stop them, then they stood
back and looked like two cats who had just shared a canary.

Lillian spoke first. “It finally happened, didn't it? And you came to tell us in person. Honey, we are so happy for you. Aren't we, Jack?”

“He said he'd do the right thing, and by damn, he's a man of his word. You bet we're happy,” Jack said and tried to hug his daughter again.

Only this time she eluded his embrace and held out her left hand. “Do you see a ring? What on earth made either of you think that Zane and I are engaged? My God, I almost passed out when Helen What's-her-face collared me in a parking lot and started gushing because I—as she put it—landed the biggest fish in the sea.”

A confused look passed between Jack and Lillian. “Jack, you said—” Lillian began.

“I know what I said,” he interrupted brusquely, then looked at his daughter. “Are you saying that Zane Fortune didn't propose to you?”

“Propose! Dad, what made you think Zane was going to propose? We have never talked about marriage, and I certainly do not anticipate any conversation on the subject in the near future, or…or anytime! This is crazy. Helen said you were boasting all over town about our engagement, even to strangers. My heavens, what if it gets back to Zane?”

“Listen, young woman,” Jack said sternly. “I only told people what
I
heard straight from the horse's mouth. It was Zane himself who said he was going to propose.”

Gwen's knees got wobbly. “When? When did he say that, and how did you happen to
hear
him say it?”

Jack suddenly didn't look quite so blustery. “Uh, he said it the day I went to his office.”

“You went to his office?” Gwen all but fell onto a chair. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't be!

“Now, honey,” Lillian said to her daughter after a worried glance at her husband. “I'm sure there's just some little misunderstanding. You shouldn't let yourself get so upset. Your father was only looking out for you and the kids, and Zane did tell him that he wanted to marry you.”

“If you'd have him,” Jack said gruffly. “That's what he said. ‘I'll marry Gwen if she'll have me,' he said. Then he made me promise not to mention it to you until he had the chance to propose.”

“When did you go to his office? What day?” Gwen demanded to know.

“Uh, it was about a week after you and the kids went to that big barbecue at the Fortune ranch. Shortly after Thanksgiving.”

Gwen looked at her father with tears in her eyes. “What made you think that you had the right to do something so…so awful? I haven't been your little girl for a very long time, Dad. I know I haven't done everything right since Paul died, but neither you nor anyone else can say I haven't tried.” Wiping her eyes, Gwen got to her feet. “If Zane really said what you told me he said, then it had to have been a result of coercion. Did you threaten him, Dad?”

“Uh…”

Jack looked to his wife for support, and Lillian said hastily, “Gwen, you're taking this all wrong.”

“I'm taking it wrong? Well, let me explain something. I've seen Zane several times since the barbecue, and he had plenty of opportunity to propose. He has
never once even mentioned the word
marriage
to me. Now, why don't
you
explain to me exactly how I should be reacting to hearing from a woman I just barely know that Zane and I are engaged? And then to hearing that my father humiliated himself—and me—by forcing Zane into committing to something he has no intention of following through on?”

“If he doesn't, then he's a snake in the grass,” Jack declared heatedly. “And he's using you, just like I accused him of doing.”

“That's entirely possible,” Gwen said wearily. “Regardless, I pray the gossip never reaches Zane's ears. But even worse would be if some of his family got wind of it.”

“What would be so terrible about that?” Jack said sharply. “There's some kind of scandal going on in that family every darn day. Always has been, as far back as I can remember. They should be thrilled and thankful that a decent woman like you would even want to marry into that family.”

“You don't know them, Dad, so you are not qualified to judge them. I don't care how many scandals you've heard about, they are nice people, and they've been nice to me. I would be horribly embarrassed if Zane's family heard about an engagement that never has nor ever will take place.”

Gwen walked to the door. “I'm going to go home.” She looked imploringly at each parent. “Please,
please,
don't tell anyone else what Zane said under duress.”

“But he did say it,” Lillian said. “Gwen, your father was not standing over him with a hammer, for goodness sake. You're putting too much emphasis on
threats and duress. All Jack did was ask him his intentions.”

“Dad can be very intimidating,” Gwen said quietly. “I'm sorry, Dad, but it's true.”

“Maybe he's a yellow coward,” Jack muttered.

Gwen blinked. “He…never struck me as a coward,” she said slowly.

“Well, how does
this
strike you? The building was crawling with security guards. He wouldn't have had to talk to me for two seconds if he hadn't wanted to. He wouldn't even have had to let me into his office!”

Gwen sucked in a startled breath. “Why
did
he let you into his office?”

Jack smiled smugly. “So he could tell me that he wanted to marry you, of course. Why else?”

 

Maria Cassidy wasn't feeling well, though she couldn't pinpoint any physical symptoms other than a throbbing, persistent headache. Lying on the bed in her motel room, she watched her son playing on the floor with a toy truck and tried very hard to remember something. It was something important that had to do with the boy, but she couldn't recall what it was.

Her son…her son. That was it! That adorable little boy
wasn't
her son. James had been kidnapped by…Maria's eyes narrowed to slits. James had been kidnapped by the Fortunes!

Her troubled gaze again rested on the small boy on the floor. Who was he? Her hands rose to cup her bursting head. If only the headache would go away, then her mind would clear. These attacks were becoming frequent and frightening; in her current state she couldn't remember when they had started. But once her mind cleared she would remember everything. Per
haps what frightened her most was that the memory lapses were falling closer together, and she feared that a time could come when she would recall nothing at all about herself.

Bits and pieces of memory merely alarmed her. Her life was somehow intertwined with the Fortune family. That was the one thing she never completely forgot.

Odd,
she thought. The pain medication she'd taken earlier finally kicked in and she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, leaving the child on the floor to fend for himself.

 

Zane walked the floor in his office—stopping at various windows to look out, frowning intently—and worried about Gwen. A knot in his gut felt like a dire prediction: Gwen was not going to see him again.

He tried to argue himself out of the feeling. She'd promised things would be different between them. But she'd also promised to see him last night and then phoned to say she couldn't find a baby-sitter.

It could have been true, but Zane kept wrangling with doubts and suspicions. And unquestionably some very unusual fears were taking him into uncharted waters. Even though Gwen had fought against a liaison, she had now become so much a part of his life that he couldn't visualize the future without her. He thought of her devotion to her children and her determination to support her little family with whatever work she could find, even going along with his idea to fool his family into thinking he was so involved with one particular woman that they would stop their infernal matchmaking.

Gwen had agreed to his idea because of her need for money, but had almost immediately regretted it
because she had liked his family and felt that they liked her, as well. Zane regretted the prank too. Not his part in it, but the fact that he'd involved Gwen.

All in all, he was feeling pretty lousy and could only lay his discomfort on uncertainty. If Gwen
had
changed her mind about seeing him again, what could he do about it? Picturing himself on a lifelong quest to convince Gwen that she should let herself like—or even love—him was terribly demoralizing. And it wasn't at all like him, either. How had he let Gwen get so deeply under his skin?

The word
love
floated in and out of his brain. Was that his problem? Had he really and truly fallen in love?

The intercom between his office and Heather's desk beeped and her voice entered the room. “Zane, your sister Vanessa is on line eight. Will you take the call?”

Zane heaved a sigh. Vanessa was probably going to try once again to pin him down on that dinner date at her house for him and Gwen.

“I'll take it,” he said, walked over to his desk and poked the button for line eight while he picked up the phone. “Hello, Vanessa,” he said as he sank into his chair.

“Zane, you devil, how could you do this to me?”

There was a teasing note in Vanessa's voice, but it sounded rather forced, as though he had upset her in some way and she intended to use tact to let him know about it.

Having no idea what he might have done to unnerve his sister, he merely said, “Pardon?”