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Back In Fortune's Bed
Back In Fortune's Bed

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Back In Fortune's Bed

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2018
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Alarm fluttered in her chest. “Are you?” she asked, before she could think better of it.

“Why would you assume otherwise?”

“Because you seem so different, so—” she let her hands rise and fall as she struggled to describe the vibes he’d been giving off “—uptight.”

“You said you’re not the same person. Same goes.”

Okay, but now he sounded downright hostile and Diana couldn’t let it go. Not now that she’d started. “We’ve both changed, as people tend to do, but at Case’s party you were unfriendly to the point of rudeness. I thought you might have been too travel-lagged to recognize me, or that you simply may not have remembered. But that’s not the problem, is it?”

He clipped a lead rope onto the horse’s halter before he turned. The hat shaded his eyes but the line of his mouth definitely fit her description. Uptight and unfriendly. “You were introduced as Diana Young. Do I know you?”

“After my husband died it was easier to keep his name. Plus there are advantages to not carrying the Fielding name around…not that it matters. I’m still me.”

“Well, there’s the thing,” he said in his deep, down-under drawl. “I don’t know that I ever knew you.”

That shocked a short, astonished laugh from Diana. Never in her thirty-one years had she been as honest, as open, as herself, as in the time she’d spent as Max’s lover. “How can you say that? I shared everything with you!”

“Yeah, you shared. That’s what I don’t appreciate, Mrs. Young. That’s why I’m not feeling as friendly toward you as I used to.”

“What do you mean?” Diana shook her head slowly. “What on earth do you think I shared?”

“Your body, mostly. How did Mr. Young like that?”

“Are you implying that I was already married?” she asked with rising incredulity.

“Not married, but you must have been engaged.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You expect me to believe you met and married this Young character less than three weeks after leaving me? I guess it must have been love at first sight, then.”

Diana reared back, stung by the bitter irony of his accusation. Love at first sight had been Max. Her marriage to David Young, a big, inescapable, back-firing disaster. She’d always guarded the details closely because she knew what the gossip media would make of it. And because she didn’t enjoy admitting to the naivety and weakness that had opened her up to emotional blackmail, to the power she’d allowed her father and David Young to exert over her.

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 lighten the tone. “I think it’s fair to say that the hitting-on was a mutual thing. Remember when we studied French? Remember how we mocked the drama of the coup de foudre?”

“The stroke of lightning,” Eliza murmured. “Love at first sight.”

“I know it’s a romantic cliché, but when I met Max I actually experienced that lightning strike. The ground shifted. Time stood still then raced through six and a half weeks. I didn’t know how to explain that to anyone, Eliza, and I had this self-centered desire to hug it to myself.”

“Do I gather it ended badly?” Eliza asked.

“However did you guess?”

“The day Max arrived, he was so laidback and charming. I knew you had to meet him, which is why I called and made sure you were coming to the party. I had a notion you two would get along. But then I introduced you and he couldn’t raise a smile. It was so unlike him.” Eliza’s reached across the table and put her hand over Diana’s, perhaps because she’d noticed the wobble in her composure. “You know I was only teasing about spilling details. You don’t have to tell me anything that’s too upsetting.”

“I have no reason to be upset,” Diana replied quickly. “Except seeing him again has me all churned up with the bad part of the memories more than the good.” But after taking a deep breath, she wanted to share, to ease the angst that had been building ever since he’d walked away from her that morning in the barn. “I had extended my holiday once and Father was making noises about needing me at home. I didn’t know what was going on and selfishly I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to leave Australia—I didn’t want to leave Max—and so I pushed him for a reason to stay.”

“He didn’t want you to stay?”

“Let’s just say he didn’t appreciate me pressuring him for commitment or acting shrewish over the number of ex-girlfriends who called. I should have read the signs right there, but I didn’t.”

Eliza winced in sympathy. “No one wants to be one of many.”

“I suppose not and with Max there was quite the backlist. Apparently he’d been sized up as marriage material once too often and I made the same mistake. So we quarreled and he left on a business trip and while he was away everything hit the fan with my sister. I had to catch a flight home that day and I didn’t even know where Max had gone. I left a note and a message on his service and I called again from New York.”

Her shrug said the rest and Eliza’s clasp on her hand tightened. “He didn’t return your calls?”

“I ended up contacting his neighbor, who I’d met in passing. He told me Max had gone to this big outback race-meeting that lasted all week—not work, but a party! Oh, and he knew because Max had taken his sister, Eva.” Diana smiled gamely but the bitter ache of that discovery, of that whole horrendous week, squeezed like a fisted hand around her heart. “Can you believe I expected we had more from a holiday fling? Can you believe I was that naive?”

“Coup de foudre.”

“Oh, I thought so at the time, but who believes in love at first sight?”

“It happens,” Eliza surprised her by saying. Her expression had turned somber, and Diana had the feeling she was thinking of something else. Or someone else. But a moment later she shed that introspective look and smiled brightly. “You know, I think this discussion needs uplifting with something decadent.”

“Crème brûlée?”

“Cheesecake.”

Diana wasn’t convinced she could force even dessert past the tightness in her throat and chest, but she pretended to study the menu while that morning’s conversation with Max replayed through her mind. “You know what is upsetting me?” she asked after several minutes of stewing. “This morning he accused me of playing around with him while I was engaged to David.”

Eliza put down her menu. “Why on earth would he think that?”

“Because I married so quickly.”

“Did you tell him why?”

Diana shook her head. “I couldn’t see any point. He was so rude and presumptive. He assumed the wedding was all set before I went to Australia.”

After a moment’s contemplation, Eliza asked, “How did he know when you actually married David? If he never contacted you after you returned home….”

“I suppose he must have read about the wedding—it was in a lot of magazines. David made sure of that. Not that it matters how Max knew. I just don’t understand why he’s so antagonistic. Especially after so much time.”

“Perhaps he’s suffering from dog-in-manger syndrome. He didn’t want to marry you himself, but that didn’t mean he wanted someone else to.”

“That’s crazy!”

“That’s men.” Eliza gave a rueful shrug. “I grew up with three brothers. Believe me, the competitiveness extends into all kinds of craziness.”

The waiter returned to take their orders and Diana laid her menu on the table. “I’m going to pass,” she said. “I have some prints to make this afternoon.”

“You’re not coming shopping? I was relying on you to help me choose an outfit for Case and Gina’s wedding.” Eliza gave the menu one last look of longing then handed it to their waiter. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, as well, or I’ll never find anything to fit.” She turned back to Diana. “You haven’t forgotten the wedding is this weekend?”

“No.”

“No…but?” Eliza asked, astutely reading the hint of more in her answer.

“Will your visitors from ‘down under’ be there?”

“I believe so. Zack is heading home to New Zealand the next day but Max is staying on for another week or so. Surely you’re not letting this spat with him change your plans?”

“Not seeing him again would prevent any more spats.”

“Didn’t you decide when you moved here,” her friend pointed out with quiet gravity, “that this new start was about taking control of your life? That you wouldn’t allow yourself to be manipulated or managed any more?”

“This isn’t the same thing.”

“As the games your father and husband played? No. But is staying home and hiding from your past the best way to move forward? I think you should go to the wedding. And I think you should come shopping.” A devilish smile sparked Eliza’s eyes. “We’ll find a knockout dress that makes you feel fabulous and—bonus points—makes my dog-in-manger cousin sit up and howl at the moon!”

Diana laughed at the image, even as she shook her head. “I don’t need a new outfit.”

On a roll, Eliza didn’t listen. “It would be even better if you took a date.”

“There’s no one I—”

Eliza snapped her fingers. “Jeffrey!”

“My boss, Jeffrey? Oh, no. We don’t date.”

“Not strictly, but you do have those dinner nondates.”

“As friends and colleagues,” Diana pointed out.

“So invite him as your friend and colleague. You know how Jeffrey adores any opportunity to promote his gallery. This is the perfect opportunity. And since he’s good-looking, single and a terrific dancer, he is also the perfect date.” Satisfied with her logic, Eliza picked up her purse and signaled the waiter. “Now that’s decided, let’s go find us both the perfect dress!”


It wasn’t the dress that made Max sit up and take notice, although it had taken him a decent slice of the wedding reception to work that out. At first he thought it was the color, a rich sapphire blue that provided the ideal foil for her dark hair and creamy skin. Then he saw her walking and decided it was the way the layers of fabric faithfully flowed with the sway of her hips. And when she danced the subtle sprinkling of sequins only glinted beneath the ballroom chandeliers when others around her dazzled.

This wasn’t a dress that screamed look-at-me. Oh no, it whispered in a sultry midnight voice to check out the body inside. That’s what had made him sit up and take notice.

“Some dress, isn’t it?”

Max blinked his focus away from the dancers to frown at his companion. What the hell was Zack doing checking out Diana’s dress? Except it wasn’t Diana who’d nailed his mate’s attention, he realized belatedly, but a woman standing nearby. Until she turned her laughing face their way he didn’t recognize the feminine figure in green as his cousin Skylar, but that’s who it was all right. The down-to-earth tomboy he’d teasingly nick-named Freckles was all glammed up and, yes, even wearing a dress.

No wonder Zack had noticed…although he wasn’t sure he liked the way his mate was eyeing her. “I think it’s time to hit the dance-floor,” Zack murmured.

“Good idea. Here, hold this.” Max pressed his empty champagne flute into Zack’s hand. Ignoring the indignant protest, he winked and clapped his friend on the back. “It’s every man for himself. See you out there.”


“You’re not such a bad dancer, cuzz,” Sky teased. “For an Aussie cowhand.”

“It became a lot easier when you gave up fighting me for the lead, Freckles.”

She laughed and punched his arm lightly before resuming their comfortable two-step. “What do you think of our wedding, South Dakota style?”

“I’m amazed they put this shindig together so quickly.” Only three weeks ago Case had stunned everyone by announcing his engagement to Gina Reynolds, yet they’d managed to pull off a smoothly run and stylish event with a seeming lack of effort.

“When Case sets his mind to something, there’s no stopping him,” Sky remarked. “Plus it helps that he owns the venue.”

Max grinned at that wry observation. “No doubt.”

The venue was the spectacular ballroom of the Fortune’s Seven Hotel, part of the diverse portfolio of businesses put together by Nash Fortune and his father before him and his father before him. Since Nash’s early retirement, Dakota Fortune had been run from an impressive downtown office complex by Case and his brother Creed, who’d continued to build the company’s considerable assets.

Creed, Max noted, had stood up as best man for his elder brother while Blake, the third of Nash’s sons, had been a conspicuous absentee from the wedding ceremony.

In the weeks since their arrival Max and Zack had spent a lot of time jetting to and fro—sometimes with Skylar along to provide local expertise—inspecting stud complexes from Nebraska to Kentucky to Florida. In between trips Max had met all his cousins. He’d dined with them, shared early breakfasts and late suppers with those who lived at the big estate house, but until this evening he hadn’t picked up on all the underlying family tensions.

Point in question, the current heated discussion between Creed and Blake, who had just arrived at the hotel. Creed’s date was attempting to conciliate. Max hoped her evening dress was flame retardant.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Sky said. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Let’s say I’m being entertained.”

Noticing what had prompted his dry remark, she clicked her tongue in admonishment. “For Gina’s sake, I hope they don’t come to blows.”

“Do they often?”

“Not since Blake moved out of the house. He has some issues with the way Case and Creed cut him out of the family business.”

“I hear he’s done very well on his own.”

“Extremely well. His casinos are worth a bomb, which is all the more reason he should let this stuff go.” The frown puckering Sky’s brow deepened to a scowl.

“Perhaps I should go and crack their stubborn male heads together.”

“You’ll only draw more attention. Besides, Creed’s girlfriend looks like she has them in hand.”

“Would you look at that? They’re walking off in separate directions, and I don’t think Case and Gina even noticed!” She breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed again.

“I heard Sasha was very good at her job. Have you met her? She’s a public relations assistant at Dakota Fortune.”

“I haven’t, but after that display I’d like to.”

“I heard you had a rep as a lady’s man. ‘The Playboy Cowboy’, isn’t it?”

Heard from Zack, no doubt. His friend thought the society columnist’s ridiculous tag was a real hoot. Max shook his head in mock disillusionment. “I can’t believe you’d take the word of that silver-tongued Kiwi over your own flesh-and-blood relation.”

Oddly, she didn’t fire back her usual smart mouth response. Max noticed the slight flush creeping into her face. Uh-oh. “I should warn you about Zack….”

“I should warn you about Sasha,” Sky retorted.

“She’s with Creed.”

“My interest is only in her PR skills.”

“Sure it is.”

Max chuckled and didn’t bother defending himself further. He did like women but his teasing banter with Sky was only that. A bit of fun that helped divert his attention from the only woman who had captured his interest tonight.

That woman wasn’t Creed’s auburn-haired date, despite her impressive peacemaking performance.

A tap on his shoulder brought their dance to a halt and he turned to find Maya Blackstone apologizing for the interruption. Maya was the daughter of Nash Fortune’s third and current wife, Patricia, with striking looks that affirmed her Native American heritage. From what he’d gathered while living at the Fortune estate, Maya was a close friend of Skylar’s but maintained a cool distance from the rest of her step-siblings.

Maya turned a worried face to Sky. “Have you seen my mother? I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find her. She was so quiet earlier—I’m worried she may be ill.”

“She wasn’t feeling well,” Sky confirmed. “A headache, I think. She said she was going home before it got any worse, but she didn’t want anyone to fuss.”

“But that’s so unlike her,” Maya fussed regardless. “You know she hates missing any part of a family celebration.”

“Well, at least she missed Creed and Blake’s latest altercation. That wouldn’t have helped her headache any!”

“Oh, please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Problem?”

They all turned at Zack’s intrusion, and Max lost interest in Maya and Sky’s exchange about the warring half-brothers when he saw Diana at his friend’s side. Her hand remained in Zack’s, as if they’d paused in dancing to join the little huddle at the edge of the dance-floor.

That niggled at him a cursed sight more than all the dances she’d shared with her date.

Max had observed her interaction with that smooth customer all evening without detecting any spark of heat. The bloke was attentive as a lapdog and they seemed comfortable together. Obviously they were friends but he’d bet London to a brick they weren’t lovers.

His New Zealand buddy, however, had to be watched. Zack pulled women with a scary lack of effort—that’s what he’d wanted to warn Sky about. Perhaps he should have warned Zack to keep his hands off both his cousin and Diana!

A third man joined their group and Maya introduced him as her boyfriend Brad McKenzie, before filling him in on Patricia’s whereabouts. Apparently he’d been helping Maya in her search and now he took her hand and towed her onto the dance-floor. During the round of introductions and explanations, Zack had struck up a conversation with Sky and they, too, took to the floor.

Zack didn’t miss the chance to wink and mouth every man for himself as he departed.

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