Hired Bride (7 page)

“I'm sorry to bother you at work, but I really need to know how much the repairs to your car are going to cost. Have you found out yet?”

“Uh, no. I haven't had the time to take the car to a body shop. Maybe I'll be able to get to it next week.”

“I can't believe you're driving a car with a caved-in trunk.”

“It's not that bad, Gwen. The trunk has some dents, but it's not caved in. Besides, I'm not driving it. I have more than one car.”

“Of course, how silly of me,” she drawled. “I should have thought of that.”

“You sound angry.”

“I'm not angry, just a little impatient. Do you have even a ballpark figure for the cost of the repairs?”

He knew to the penny. The car was already repaired and parked downstairs in the company garage. He was driving a sports utility vehicle, which he'd recently purchased, and having fun with it. But he knew if he told Gwen the truth, she'd have a fit because he'd dared to insult her integrity and independence.

“I really know nothing about auto body repairs, Gwen,” he said. That, at least, was true. “My estimate would be worse than none.” That was partially true.

“I thought men knew about these things,” Gwen said irritably.

“Probably a lot of them do. I just don't happen to be one of them. Gwen, I know I said I wouldn't ask you out again, but how about a movie tonight? Dinner too, if you'd like.”

Gwen found herself unable to say an immediate and
irrevocable no. A movie date sounded so darn great. She wouldn't have to pretend to be someone other than herself because none of Zane's family would be around. A good movie, theater popcorn and a handsome escort. In her estimation that combination was pretty much the perfect date.

“How about it?” Zane persisted.

“I…I'd have to say no to dinner, because after being away from my kids all day, I need to see them and they need to see me. But once they're in bed…” Gwen bit her lip. She would have to find a baby-sitter in her own neighborhood, someone to come to the house and stay with the kids for a couple of hours. Ramona would gladly watch the kids, but only at her own house.

Gwen's stomach churned. She shouldn't be doing this. She should repeat to Zane once again that she didn't date, and say it firmly, maybe even harshly, so that he would never ask her out again.

Instead she heard herself saying, “I might be able to make the nine o'clock feature. If I can find a baby-sitter, that is.”

“Well, darlin', just get your pretty self in gear and find that sitter. I'll pick you up at eight. See you then.”

He hung up! Gwen stared at the dead phone in her hand as though it just might decide to bite her. Then she hung up.

For the rest of the day she worried about having agreed to that movie date, and she didn't tell Ramona about it when she picked up her kids. While driving home Gwen wondered if she was ashamed or guilty or something else entirely. She had to be feeling something odd, or she would have mentioned the date to her best friend.

The kids were safely buckled into their seat belts, but their noise finally penetrated Gwen's concentration. Donnie, she realized, was teasing Ashley and making her scream. Tiny Mindy added to the din by screaming whenever Ashley did, just because she mimicked almost everything her big sister did.

“Hey, you guys, knock it off!” Gwen shouted. She didn't like to shout at her children, but sometimes it was the only way to be heard. “Donnie, stop teasing your sisters.”

They quieted down, and Gwen heaved a sigh. What on earth would a man like Zane Fortune do around three noisy little kids?

A voice in her head answered:
He'd probably go nuts in five minutes flat.

When they got home, Gwen again prepared her kids' favorite food for supper—macaroni-and-cheese and hot dogs. They ate, then she let them play while she cleaned up the kitchen and hurried herself through a shower and shampoo. Next came the children's baths, a lot of horseplay while Gwen got them into their pajamas, and finally the tucking-in process—a bedtime story, prayers and a whole bunch of hugs and kisses. This was Gwen's most emotional time of day, the precious moments when she could shower her kids with love and they weren't bouncing up and down too much to notice.

But time flew by and it was ten minutes to eight when the baby-sitter, Norma Blake—an older woman who supplemented her social security checks with neighborhood baby-sitting jobs—knocked on Gwen's front door. A harried Gwen let her in, told her the kids were in bed and to make herself at home, then dashed to her bedroom to get dressed. She had no time to pick
and choose, and she grabbed a floral print skirt and a white sweater from her closet. Shedding the robe she'd been wearing since her shower, she dressed at the speed of light and then ran for the bathroom to put on a little makeup and do something with her hair.

At five minutes after eight, Gwen heard the doorbell. Her heart started pounding nervously, and she felt a little bit sick to her stomach. Looking in the mirror she saw the almost stricken look on her face. What on earth had prompted her to accept Zane's movie invitation? She knew she shouldn't get involved with him. Yet somehow she seemed to be a pawn in something much bigger than herself. She felt swept along by events beyond her control.

Detouring to her bedroom for her purse, she bravely lifted her chin and then headed down the hall toward her living room. Just before reaching it, she heard Zane conversing with Mrs. Blake. He sounded mellow and relaxed, and he was asking about Mrs. Blake's grown children.

Gwen halted her stride and listened. It was clear Zane was charming the woman, but why was he drawing her out about her children when he hadn't asked Gwen one question about
her
kids?
Because it's a safe topic with an elderly woman, and it wouldn't be with you!

He didn't even know how many children she had, nor did he seem to care. Resentment made Gwen go stiff. Beneath all of his fine, polished manners, he was a self-absorbed jerk. She and her kids were a package deal, didn't he realize that? No man would get anywhere with her if he excluded her kids. Since Zane seemed focused on her alone, he must not be thinking
long term. A quickie affair was all he would ever give her, or any other woman in her situation.

Gwen's heart was suddenly pounding nervously. She should not be spending any more time with Zane Fortune, not even for something so innocent as a movie date. Her mind began racing, searching for a tactful way to get out of this evening, but she couldn't think of an excuse that would sound sensible to Zane, or even to herself, for that matter.

Other than resorting to outright rudeness, she was stuck. She'd made a dire mistake by saying yes to this date, and now she would have to live with it.

Okay, fine, she thought resentfully. She'd go to the movie with him. But if he wanted her to even speak to him again, he had better ask a few questions about her kids tonight.

After taking a deep breath, Gwen pasted on a smile and walked into the living room.

G
wen was initially unnerved by the mere handful of people in the theater. Everyone was sitting so far from each other that it was almost as though she and Zane were alone. He'd taken her to a cinema complex with twelve theaters, and the movie they'd chosen to see wasn't crowded. Then, Zane had led her to seats at the back of the theater, which added to Gwen's sense of isolation.

For a while, once the movie began and she became interested in it, that feeling diminished. But then, about halfway through the picture, she set her empty popcorn and soft drink containers on the floor, as did Zane. A warning bell went off in her head when he laid his arm along the top of her seat back.

“Don't do that,” she whispered.

His response was to put his mouth close to her ear and whisper, “You smell as sweet as honeysuckle.”

A chill that was pure thrill went up her spine. His breath on her ear and his nearness were causing some intense physical reactions.

But she couldn't let that happen, and she whispered, “If you don't intend to watch the movie, then I would just as soon leave.”

“If we leave, will you come to my house?”

She turned her head to glare at him. “Don't be absurd!” She realized instantly that she should not have
faced him, because then his mouth was only an inch from hers. Even sitting down, her knees felt weak. In fact, she was feeling rather weak all over. Like it or not, Zane affected her—the first man who had touched her emotions at all since she was widowed.

He kissed her. She'd known he was going to the second she'd turned her head. And she allowed it—encouraged it, in fact.

It was a slow-burning, undemanding kiss. His mouth moved lazily on hers, and she did nothing to stop it. Rather, she let her head fall back to his arm and parted her lips for his tongue. Her vow to singe his gall with righteous indignation if he tried to kiss her a third time seemed very far away, and even though it vaguely passed through her mind, she was too lost in the kiss itself to really think of anything else.

In truth, it was lovely to be kissed in that dark little theater by such a handsome, vital man, and she could not prevent herself from responding. Zane smelled heavenly. She
felt
heavenly, and dreamy and completely out of touch with reality.

“Gwen…my beautiful Gwen,” he whispered huskily before kissing her again.

While his lips moved on hers, his endearment gradually sank in. But she couldn't deny the sexual excitement rising within her, and she again responded.

His left arm was still behind her head, and she felt his right hand move to her waist. That's all right, she thought dizzily. A few kisses really didn't mean that much, and his hand on her waist certainly wasn't too far out of line. She seemed to have completely lost sight of every misgiving she'd had about Zane. Her heart was beating madly and the sensual weakness in
her system was so delicious that she uttered no objections whatsoever.

Zane was so elated over her response that his head was spinning. He wished they were alone somewhere, but in a quick glance around he saw that the few other patrons were engrossed in the film and were all sitting more to the center of the theater. Even if someone did happen to look their way, they would see very little.

He was wary of suggesting anything that might destroy Gwen's mood, such as again asking her to go to his house. So he accepted what he had—her soft, luscious lips and her unexpected participation.

But he really did want so much more. He ached from wanting more, and he wondered if she knew how potently she affected him. It wasn't something a man asked a woman, though, so he suffered that particular discomfort in silence, even while realizing that it was only going to get worse if he kept on kissing her. And then, almost absentmindedly, he dropped his hand from her waist to her thigh.

Gwen was so absorbed in the way he kissed that she barely noticed his hand shifting. But a few moments later, when his hand was under the voluminous folds of her skirt and caressing her bare thigh on a path to her panties, she gasped.

Tearing her mouth from his, she whispered, “No, Zane.”

“Let me touch you,” he pleaded in her ear. “I want you so much. Let me pleasure you.” Without waiting for permission, he pushed aside the band of her panties between her legs and began stroking her most sensitive spot.

Her emotions went wild. Moaning quietly, she
turned her face into the front of his shirt. “Open your legs a little more,” he whispered.

She shocked herself by doing as he asked—nothing had ever felt so good as his hand between her legs. At least it hadn't in a very long time. She sat there and let him touch and stroke and caress until she nearly shouted from a climax so powerful it brought tears to her eyes.

He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “You are wonderful.”

Wonderful? Mortified is more like it.
More embarrassed than she could ever before remember being, she disentangled herself from him, unsteadily got to her feet and headed for the aisle, kicking over the popcorn and soft drink containers as she went.

Zane stared after her for a moment as though struck, then jumped up, grabbed his jacket and followed. She stayed a good twenty feet ahead of him until they were outdoors, but then he caught up with her.

“Gwen, stop running,” he said as he clasped his hand around her arm. She faced him, and he saw the tears in her eyes. “You're crying. Honey, what's wrong?” he asked gently.

She wiped away tears and looked everywhere but into his eyes. “I'm sure you know.”

He was stunned by the embittered defeat he heard in her voice. “No, I don't know.”

His answer angered her. “You…you humiliated me!”

“Making love humiliates you? Gwen, there's something terribly wrong with that attitude.”

“It's your attitude that needs some examination and revision,” she snapped. “We were in a public place, for God's sake, and you…you…” Embarrassment
seared her again and she couldn't find the words to say what he'd done to her.

“Gwen, is that what's bothering you? You think someone saw what we were doing? They didn't. It was dark and no one was sitting within twenty feet of us. The few people in there were watching the movie, and no one was paying the slightest attention to us.”

She was finally getting her wits about her, and she was angry, fiercely angry. And hurt. They weren't lovers, they were just barely friends, and he'd taken advantage of her. That sort of behavior might be normal for him, but it wasn't normal for her.

Even so, her mind was clearing enough to see both sides of the situation. If she hadn't gone out with him, he wouldn't have had the chance to take advantage of her. To be perfectly and painfully honest, tonight's embarrassing fiasco was really her own fault. Zane's reputation with women was common knowledge around San Antonio, after all.

She suddenly felt bogged down with self-accusations and incriminations.
You let him kiss you. In fact, you kissed him back. That's three times now that you kissed him back. Why wouldn't he think he could go farther in that dark theater? You've been easy with him.

At long last she looked directly into his eyes, forcing her gaze to remain steady and hard. “What took place between us tonight, or anything even remotely similar, is not going to happen again,” she said coldly. “I know you're considered to be a smooth operator with the ladies, and I guess you proved it in the theater with me, but this is the end of the line, Zane. I will never see you socially again. If you wish to cancel your working relationship with Help-Mate, that's fine
too. I still need the figures on your car repairs, but I would appreciate your having Heather call me with that information when you finally get it.”

To her astonishment, Zane laughed. “Aren't you getting a bit carried away? All I did was—”

She broke in before he could get explicit. “Think what you want. I'm going home. In a
taxi,
” she added as she started walking quickly down the street.

Zane ran to catch up. “Gwen, don't you think this is getting a little ridiculous? My car is right over there.”

She shot him a dirty look and kept walking. The cinema complex was part of a large mall, and most of the establishments were closed for the day. Hailing a cab was probably out of the question, but she could call one from a pay phone. There
must
be pay phones somewhere nearby.

Much to her surprise and relief, she spotted a taxi cruising the mall's parking lot. She took off after it, shouting, “Taxi!”

Zane stopped in his tracks, stunned. What was wrong with the woman? He certainly hadn't forced himself on her in the theater. Why had she let him get so familiar if she hadn't wanted it? He thinned his lips. She'd wanted exactly what he'd done, dammit, and how dare she resent him for it now?

Grimly he watched while the cab stopped and she got into it. Then he strode to his car, climbed in and headed for home.

 

Maria Cassidy knew that she'd taken a big risk by attending Parker and Hannah's wedding, all because of her meddling brother, Cole. Maria's closest neighbor in the seedy trailer park in which she had previ
ously lived had been eager to tell her about the nosy man who'd shown up one day when she wasn't home, walking all around her trailer, looking in every window. The gossipy woman had told her the man said he was her brother.

Maria had nearly hyperventilated from fear. Cole could not have missed seeing Bryan's crib, playpen and high chair. Anyone with half a brain would know a baby or small child was living with her. Even though she hoped Cole had assumed that she was merely baby-sitting someone else's child, Maria's confidence had slipped badly.

She'd told herself that Cole couldn't possibly know the child was Bryan, Matthew Fortune's kidnapped son. He certainly couldn't know anything about her plan to take down the Fortunes. How she'd plotted to have her own Fortune baby by getting impregnated at a sperm bank with a donation Matthew had made years ago. How she'd brought that baby—a Fortune heir!—to Bryan's christening party and he'd been mistaken as Bryan and kidnapped. With her son gone, she'd had no choice but to take Bryan herself.

But her fear had overwhelmed rationality, and she had thrown her belongings into her old car, taking Bryan and making a hasty getaway.

She'd driven around frantically for hours on back roads trying to figure out what to do next. When night fell, she checked into an inexpensive motel. Money was always a problem, and now she couldn't even go to work because she dare not chance leaving Bryan with anyone else.

She had paced the floor for most of that first night, hating Cole for not minding his own business, hating the Fortunes for never having to worry about money,
despising her mother for believing that Ryan Fortune was going to marry her—all in all pretty much hating everything and everyone. Dark feelings had swirled within Maria that night, and she'd muttered out loud while she walked the worn carpet in that pathetic little room.

“Now what're you gonna do? Your money will last about a week, then what? Maybe you should just drive off and leave Bryan here. Someone will find him in the morning.”

She'd mumbled about that idea for about an hour, then started thinking of the ransom money she could get for the boy. When she'd sent a ransom note five months ago, she'd been too nervous of getting caught to pick the ransom up. But this could be her one and only chance to get rich. Maybe she should try again.

Just before dawn she'd remembered going to her mealy-mouthed sister Hannah's wedding. She hadn't intended to go to the affair, but it had seemed like a propitious opportunity to borrow some money from her mother.

She knew if Cole had told anyone about seeing baby furniture in her trailer, and someone was smart enough to add two and two, showing herself at
any
affair could be dangerous business. But so would simply phoning her mother at the Double Crown Ranch and asking for a loan. She had figured that at least at the wedding, Lily would be too busy to grill her, and maybe Cole wouldn't even be there.

Now, thinking back, Maria knew that Cole had been surprised to see her at the wedding, but she'd cleverly avoided him all night. And she'd stayed on the sidelines of the merry gathering until she'd spotted an opportunity to talk to her mother alone. It had been easy
to borrow five-hundred dollars, because Lily had such a soft heart when it came to her children.

But even five hundred wouldn't last long. If she was going to ask again for ransom for Bryan, she had to figure out a foolproof way to go about it. It was frustrating to realize that all she knew of such things had been picked up from movies and novels. The real thing seemed vastly different from fiction and also treacherously laden with pitfalls. The thought of being caught and going to prison was horrifying.

And so Maria sat in that little motel room for days and days, one minute dreaming of fabulous wealth, the next sinking into deep despair. Her emotions were becoming more unstable by the hour. She was getting dangerously close to the breaking point.

 

During the taxi ride to her house, Gwen realized how deeply troubled she really was, how shaken. She stared out the side window of the cab and saw none of the passing city. Never in her life had she been part of the sort of intimacy that had taken place in the theater, and she could hardly believe she had let Zane go so far.

But there was no way she could gloss over the facts and pretend that she hadn't reveled in the most sensual thing a man had ever done to her. In a public place, no less. How could she have let it happen? What kind of woman had she become since meeting Zane? While it would be easy to put all the blame on him, she knew in her soul that she was far from blameless.

Before she got home, her mood turned sad and melancholy. She could not see Zane again, not in any capacity. He was a dangerous man for a woman like her to be fooling around with. It would probably be
best if she broke all ties with him by phoning Heather and telling her that Help-Mate was cutting back on clients, or some such story. Any lie would do, as long as it completely eliminated further contact with Zane.