Million Dollar Marriage
THE TEXAS TATTLERAll the news that’s barely fit to print!
Town of Red Rock, Texas, shaken to its bedrock.
T
he cooing heir to the Fortune empire was snatched from his nursery in the sprawling
Double Crown Ranch mansion last evening during the infant’s christening celebration.
Late breaking reports indicate that Matthew and Claudia Fortune, baby Bryan’s parents,
are frantic and eager for leads. The Texas governor pledges his support to one of
the Lone Star State’s richest families.
Red Rock’s and San Antonio’s finest are on the case, but inside sources reveal that
their official “no comment” means “baffled and clueless.” Is this heinous crime a
desperate ploy for money…or revenge? Police are investigating all persons suspected
of having a vendetta against the Fortune clan. Now,
that’s
a long list….
And another enticing Fortune tidbit: sources in the know reveal that infamous bachelor
Holden Fortune must wed a respectable lady as a condition of inheriting a dime of
dear old daddy’s legacy. Is it a mere coincidence, then, that earlier this week the
reputed playboy was spotted escorting Dr. Lucinda Brightwater—dressed in a stunning
white
suit—up the courthouse stairs? When questioned, Holden said he was “fixing a traffic
ticket.” For what? Excessive speeding…to the altar?!
MAGGIE SHAYNE,
a
USA TODAY
bestselling author whom
Romantic Times
calls “brilliantly inventive,” has written more than twenty-five novels for Silhouette
Books.
Maggie has won numerous awards, including two
Romantic Times
Career Achievement Awards. A five-time finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s
prestigious RITA
®
Award, Maggie also writes mainstream contemporary fantasy and romantic suspense for
MIRA Books, and has contributed story lines to network daytime soap operas.
She lives in rural Otselic, New York, with her husband, Rick, with whom she shares
five beautiful daughters, two English bulldogs and two grandchildren.
Million Dollar Marriage
Meet the Fortunes of TexasHolden Fortune:
The high-powered executive doesn’t want to settle down. But he would do anything
to secure his inheritance, including proposing marriage to a beautiful baby doctor….
Lucinda Brightwater:
The lovely lady’s biological clock is ticking louder with each bundle of joy she
delivers. She can think of only one way to make her own baby dream come true—seduce
her convenient husband….
Ryan Fortune:
Beloved patriarch of the Fortune family of Texas. When fate brings his lost love
back into his life, Ryan vows not to let anything stop him from claiming Lily Cassidy
as his bride…not even what proves to be the most scandalous divorce of the decade.
Vanessa Fortune:
When her precious nephew is kidnapped, she is determined to help with the search.
Will she be able to reunite baby Bryan with his parents, and can her own romance be
far away…?
Red Rock High School
Valentine’s Day Dance, 1983
H
olden Fortune was the man of her dreams. But he’d never give a girl like her a second
glance. Lucinda Brightwater sat in a chair near the wall where it was dim and shadowy.
She didn’t usually come to school dances. She didn’t know why she’d bothered coming
to this one, unless it was just to torture herself, which was precisely what she was
doing.
He was dancing now, his current girlfriend, Tiffany Lambert, wrapped tight in his
arms as he moved her slowly around the floor. The glittering globe overhead reflected
flashes of light on his honey-blond hair. He was so handsome, so athletic, so popular—easily
the most popular boy in school, and that was only partially because he came from one
of the richest families in Texas. Lucinda had loved him since fifth grade. But he’d
barely noticed her.
She was plain. Her straight, dark hair wouldn’t do anything but hang there, no matter
how she cut or sprayed or styled it. She wasn’t allowed to wear more than a hint of
makeup, and if she’d tried dressing in the half tops and short skirts that were popular
with the “in crowd,” her father would have gone into cardiac
arrest. Besides all that, she was too smart. All brains and no beauty. A nerd. A geek.
Tiffany, on the other hand, was bleached to a sunshiny shade of blond and her hair
was always perfect. Layers on the sides, fluffed up high on the top. Her skirts were
short and flouncy, and she probably didn’t even own a shirt that came down as far
as her navel. She wore several bracelets on each arm, huge gold earrings that shook
when she moved, and enough makeup to sink a small ship. She knew how to send sidelong
glances Holden’s way, how to giggle, how to flirt. All the things Lucinda had never
been any good at. Oh, Tiffany was failing most of her classes, but Holden didn’t seem
to care much about her grades. Lucinda knew perfectly well that Tiffany was well educated
in…other areas. She was not an inexperienced virgin like Lucinda.
The music died down, and the couples on the floor parted and moved toward the sides
of the decorated school gym, or toward the punch bowl, or sneaked off toward the exits
hoping for a chance to slip outside, unseen by the chaperones.
Holden and Tiffany, however, stayed where they were. She was looking up at him, speaking
very quickly, and then he was saying something back to her. He looked upset. Tiffany
shook her head hard, side to side, earrings jangling. She turned away. Holden gripped
her arm to pull her back, and she hauled off and slapped him. Hard.
Lucinda sucked in a loud gasp, jumping to her feet, a reflex action she didn’t even
think about first. Tiffany stormed away from poor Holden without a backward glance,
and Holden, looking wounded and
shocked, stared after her. Then, a moment later, he seemed to shake himself. Turning
away, he wandered off in the opposite direction, and vanished into a crowd.
Lucinda just stood there for a long time, hoping he’d emerge again. She was going
to go over to him, ask him if he was okay. She would. She’d just drum up all of her
courage and talk to him. She couldn’t believe Tiffany would break up with him that
way, in front of half the school. No girl in her right mind would treat a guy like
Holden that way. Lucinda certainly wouldn’t. If he were hers… She sighed and closed
her eyes. Who was she kidding? It would never happen. Guys like Holden didn’t date
girls like Lucinda. She might as well accept that and forget about him. In a few months
he’d graduate, head off to college, and she’d probably never see him again.
Holden was good and pissed. It wasn’t enough that Tiffany Lambert had to be the first
girl in history to ever dump him before he got around to dumping her, but she had
to do it in front of everyone. And she’d slapped him!
He was furious when he stalked off into a corner, but the guys quickly surrounded
him, slapping his shoulder and saying things like, “Who needs her anyway?” and “Hell,
Holden, you can have any girl you want. What do you care?”
He agreed with all those sentiments, of course. And the liquor helped. Billy Martin
had smuggled a bottle of Seagram’s into the gym, and he opened his coat to give Holden
a peek. Holden nodded, and then they all
sauntered off to the boys’ bathroom and passed the bottle around.
The more Holden drank, the angrier he got. And by the time he and the other boys staggered
back into the gym, carefully avoiding any sharp-eyed chaperones, he was feeling the
need for vengeance. Tiffany was standing in the corner talking to a bunch of her friends,
most of whom Holden had slept with. He decided to make her jealous, remind her she
wasn’t the only girl on the planet.
He scanned the chairs that lined the gym walls for a suitable dance partner, and then
froze when his gaze fell on pretty little Lucinda Brightwater. His throat went dry.
He licked his lips. Lucinda was…different. Quiet. Shy. Very deep and very intelligent.
She wasn’t the kind of girl a guy like Holden should get himself involved with. She
was not a giggling teen out for a good time. She was a lady. She reminded Holden a
lot of his own mother, with her quiet grace and soft-spoken dignity.
And he reminded himself of his father. How many times had his dad told him how alike
they were? Called him a chip off the old block? They even looked alike. And Cameron
changed mistresses almost monthly, while Mary Ellen, Holden’s mother, somehow managed
to forgive him every time. She was the saddest person Holden knew.
No. He didn’t belong with girls like Lucinda Brightwater. Nice girls. Sweet girls.
Girls who would let him break their fragile hearts. He had convinced himself of that
a long time ago. He’d stick to shallow, loose girls out for a good time, girls who
wouldn’t take
things too seriously. Girls who wouldn’t get hurt. Like Tiffany Lambert.
But tonight, he was drunk. And he was stinging from that slap and the public humiliation
that went with it. And he was itching to show Tiffany that he didn’t need her, that
he could have a real lady. One Tiffany could never measure up to. A flawless white
rose of a girl almost too good to be touched.
Holden sucked in a breath, and managed to walk without staggering over to where Lucinda
sat. Her raven hair hung over her shoulders, straight and gleaming. Dark eyes widened
at his approach, and rose to stare into his. And her copper-toned skin seemed as smooth
as satin.
“Would you dance with me, Lucy?” he asked. So far as he knew, no one ever called her
Lucy. He thought of her that way, though. Secretly, he thought of her as Lucinda in
the Sky. The only girl he knew who was completely beyond his reach, out of his league.
She nodded slowly, eyes dark and mysterious. Getting to her feet, she stepped closer
to him. Holden put his arms around her waist and pulled her toward him. Not quite
touching, not yet. Even with as much as he’d had to drink, he didn’t forget that she
was a lady. Her hands linked together at the base of Holden’s neck, and she moved
her feet with his.
“Are you all right?” she asked him.
He looked down at her, nodded once. “You saw what happened, huh?”
“Everyone did.” She bit her lower lip. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Tiffany’s not.” He stumbled a little and pulled Lucy closer. Expecting
her to pull away at
once, Holden was a little surprised when instead, she hesitated, then lowered her
head to his shoulder.
Her hair smelled good. He slid his arms more completely around her waist.
“So, is that why you’re dancing with me, Holden?” she asked softly. “To make Tiffany
jealous?”
He frowned down at her, then stumbled again, would have fallen if she hadn’t held
him, steadied him.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” Leaning up so close he thought she was going to kiss him,
she sniffed instead. “You are. I can smell it on you. I should have known.” Taking
herself out of his arms, she turned to walk away.
But then she stopped and faced him again. “You brought your car, didn’t you? The one
your father gave you for your eighteenth birthday?”
He smiled slowly. So she wanted to ride in his Vette, did she? Somehow he hadn’t thought
the car would hold the same appeal to a girl like Lucy that it did to the party girls
he usually dated. But he was suddenly very glad. “Sure I did,” he said.
Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “There’s no way you can drive home. Come on. I’ll take
you in my mom’s car, and you can come back for yours in the morning. Sober.”
Holden frowned, totally confused. “You don’t want to ride in the Vette?”
“I could care less about the Vette. I would feel pretty bad, though, if I got up in
the morning and heard that you’d wrapped it around a pole and got yourself killed.”
“You would, huh?”
She looked away from him, and when she looked
back her eyes were wider. “Crabtree is coming over here. Act sober for heaven’s sake!”
Holden plastered his most sober expression on his face, folded his arms and leaned
back, thinking the wall would support him. Only there was nothing to lean back on,
so he fell flat on his ass.
Ms. Crabtree glared down at him. “Have you been drinking again, Mr. Fortune?” Her
hands went to her hips and she tapped her foot.
“Drinking? Who, me? No way…I wouldn’t even—”
“I can smell it from here, young man.” Ms. Crabtree shook her head. “I guess I’m going
to have to call your father to come and get you. He won’t be amused by this latest
example of your reckless behavior, Holden.”
“Ms. Crabtree, it isn’t Holden’s fault,” Lucy said quickly.
Crabtree looked at her, then frowned hard. No teacher in the history of the world
had ever doubted a word Lucinda Brightwater said. They all seemed to think she was
some kind of angel. She kept talking, and Holden thought maybe he agreed with them.
“Someone spiked the punch,” she went on. “Holden didn’t know about it until he’d already
had several glasses.”
Crabtree’s face went from cold to wary. “Are you sure about this, Lucinda?”
“Positive. I—I heard someone talking about it in the girls’ room.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see who, and it wasn’t a voice I knew.”
Crabtree eyed the punch bowl, and her look changed again, to one of alarm. “Oh, my.”
“I didn’t have any of the punch, Ms. Crabtree,” Lucy went on. “And I’ll drive Holden
home. There’s no need to call his father. He’d only blame you and the school for this
anyway.”
The teacher looked up sharply, as if she hadn’t thought of that before, and then seemed
thoughtful. “Are you sure you didn’t have any of the punch, dear?”
“I wouldn’t think of driving if I had, Ms. Crabtree,” she said, sounding like a saint.
“Of course you wouldn’t. All right, then. Get him home, and I’ll dump the punch down
the drain and make a fresh batch.” She walked away muttering that she’d have to check
every single student who planned to drive tonight before letting them leave.
Holden was still sitting on the gym floor. When Lucy reached down to help him up,
he took her hand and let her, giving her a crooked smile. “I owe you one, Lucinda
in the Sky.”
“Yeah,” she said. “You do.”
She felt so nervous she could barely keep her mom’s car on the road as she drove Holden
toward his home. He wouldn’t invite her inside. She knew he wouldn’t. She would die
if he did. But he wouldn’t.
The place was a mansion. Tall and stately. So elegant with its pristine white paint,
gleaming black shutters, and two-story porch spanning the entire front of the place,
its columns stretching from top to bottom. It was almost…presidential. In a very Texas
kind of way.
She pulled into the paved, curving driveway. No lights glowed from inside the house,
only outdoor lights shone. Twin rows of them, lining either side of the sidewalk from
driveway to front porch. And more, gleaming from around back.
“Come in for a minute?” Holden asked.
Oh, God, he
did
ask. His voice was slurred and she knew better than to accept. She really did.
“Okay,” she said. She got out of the car and Holden took her arm. She wasn’t sure
if he took it because he wanted to touch her, or because he needed to hold on for
balance. But either way, they walked together up the sidewalk, toward the porch and
the front door.
“Holden, your parents… Don’t you think you ought to go in the back way or something?
If they see you like this…”
“They’re out,” he told her. “See? Dad’s Caddy isn’t here. There was some charity thing.
Won’t be home for hours. And the kids—Logan and Eden—are spending the night at Uncle
Ryan’s.”
“Oh.” Her throat was suddenly dry.
Holden led her across the wide porch, dug for a key under the doormat, and unlocked
the massive doors. They were double, with stained-glass insets in a fan pattern, and
complemented on either side by rectangular glass windows as tall as the doors themselves.
Opening one of the doors, Holden pulled her inside. “See? I told you.” He looked around
the dark foyer, shrugged. “No one’s here. Come on.”
“Wh-where are we going?”
“My room.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” she said.
Holden smiled in the darkness, and reached for a light switch. “Fine. The living room?”
When he flicked the lights on, things seemed less frightening to her.
“That would be better.” She relaxed and followed Holden along the massive foyer and
through a wide, arching doorway into the living room. He promptly collapsed on a huge
leather sofa that smelled so rich she couldn’t believe it. She sat down carefully
beside him.
“I see you around school a lot,” he said, leaning his head back on the sofa, closing
his eyes. “At football practice, or in the cafeteria. In the halls sometimes. Near
my locker.”
She shrugged, and felt her face heat.
“You like me, don’t you, Lucy?”
When she didn’t answer, he opened his eyes, sat up a little.
