Million Dollar Marriage (7 page)

“Yeah? Well, neither was my mother. But she spent the next several decades paying
for it all the same.”

“Logan, maybe you should let Dr. Brightwater make her own decisions,” the woman said,
her voice soft, her brown eyes on Logan’s face.

Logan sighed, and glanced down at Holden’s hand on his arm. Holden let go.

“Some wedding day these two are giving you, isn’t
it?” the woman asked, dragging her gaze from Logan’s and offering a hand to Lucinda.
“I’m Emily Applegate, Logan’s assistant at the Fortune TX offices.”

“And the only poor soul they could drag away on such short notice to be our second
witness, I would guess,” Lucinda said, taking the woman’s hand.

“I’m glad to do it,” she replied.

Lucinda could see that she was. In fact, from the way she looked at her boss, Lucinda
guessed Emily would likely be glad to do just about anything he asked of her.

The judge cleared his throat, and all four heads turned in his direction. “If you’re
ready to proceed?”

Lucinda blinked in surprise as Holden’s hand closed around hers. She was scared, trembling
a bit, and completely unsure that rushing headlong into this marriage was the right
thing to do. The thing was, it was the
only
thing to do right now. It made perfect sense, didn’t it?

“You ready, Lucy?”

She glanced up at Holden. His hand on hers tightened, and his deep blue eyes searched
her face. As if telling her this was it, her last chance to back out of the deal.
She licked her lips as his hand warmed hers, and she felt herself nod firmly.

“Good.” Holden tugged an envelope from an inside pocket and set it on the judge’s
desk. “The license,” he said.

With a sigh, Logan came to stand at Holden’s side. Emily hurried to take her spot
beside Lucinda. And the judge began to speak. But she barely heard a word
he said over the buzzing in her head and the pounding of her heart.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Holden took a breath, as nervous as his bride was, he was sure of that. Hell, he knew
as well as anyone here that he wasn’t good enough for a woman like Lucy Brightwater.
But he’d try to be. For a year, he’d try his damnedest not to make her regret this.

He looked down at her. She was still studying the ring he’d placed on her finger,
a delicate band of diamonds and amber. Unusual…but then, so was she. It was his search
for the perfect ring that had made him late today.

Lucy tipped her head up finally, her eyes wide and dark and full of mystery…secrets.
Holden lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Soft, and trembling slightly
as he kissed them. Parting just a little. Just enough to make his stomach knot and
his breath catch in his throat.

When he lifted his head again, her eyes were still closed. Ebony lashes resting on
her skin.

“Let me be the first to congratulate you,” the judge said, his voice loud, breaking
the spell. Lucy’s eyes flashed open and Holden managed to shake the man’s hand without
taking his gaze from hers. Emily Applegate gave her a tentative hug, and then Logan
followed suit.

“Welcome to the family, sister,” he said gruffly near Lucy’s ear. “If my brother gives
you any trouble, you let me know, all right?”

Lucy’s smile was tremulous, overly bright. “Thanks, Logan.”

Logan took Holden’s hand then, pumped it hard. “Treat her right, big brother.”

Holden nodded. “One more favor, Logan?”

Logan’s brows went up. “Why am I not surprised? What is it this time?”

“Don’t tell anyone in the family about this just yet.”

He heard Lucy’s soft gasp and turned toward her. “My God, Holden, you didn’t even
tell your family you were getting married? Your…mother?”

“No. And I’d prefer they hear it from me. But not today.”

Logan shook his head. “News like this is going to leak, Holden. Just how long do you
think I can—”

“Just until tomorrow,” Holden said. “I just want to give Lucy a day to prepare…before
she has to face the lions.”

Logan sighed, looking from Holden to Lucy. Then he sent her a smile. “Don’t let him
shake you. Remember, you
are
one of the lions now.”

She said nothing. Still smiling. But it was false, Holden could see that clearly.

“I just have some papers for you to sign and then you can get on with the celebrating,”
the judge interrupted.

He pushed a sheet at Holden, handed him a pen. Holden signed his name and handed the
pen to Lucy. She bent over the desk and scrawled “Lucinda” across the line in an elegant,
spiky script. Then she paused with the pen’s tip poised on the page. Blinking rapidly,
she went on. “Fortune,” she wrote.

She sat beside Holden in his hot little car and he drove. They’d spoken of meaningless,
trivial things.
Had she packed an overnight bag? Was it all right to leave her cat for the night?
Neither of them asking the question foremost in their minds.
Now what?

“I…would have liked to have taken you on a real honeymoon,” Holden said, his tone
apologetic.

“I hardly expected that,” she replied, frowning at him.

He shook his head. “You deserve that. And a beautiful wedding with all your friends
and family there, and a reception going long into the night.”

“Do you really think that’s what I wanted?”

“Isn’t it what every woman wants?”

She shook her head. “I’m not every woman, Holden. And given the circumstances of our
marriage, not to mention what’s going on in your family right now, I think we did
this in the best way possible.”

“That’s pretty much the rationale I’ve been using.” He licked his lips. “Maybe I can
make it up to you…in time.”

“There’s nothing to make up for.” Lucinda leaned her head back against the seat and
thoroughly enjoyed having the top down and the wind blowing in her hair. “So where
are we going?”

“Someplace special.”

“Five-star hotel with all the bells and whistles?” she asked, not looking forward
to that prospect at all.

“Sit back and wait. You’ll see.”

She eyed him, and he sent her a playful wink. Some of the tension between them faded,
and she smiled back. “This should be interesting.”

“I hope so.”

He drove for more than an hour, and Lucinda was
beginning to think he was lost, because for some time now there had been nothing but
wild-looking terrain spread out in every direction. It had her worried.

“Holden, do you think we ought to stop and ask for directions?”

He smiled at her again, that charming, knock-’em-dead smile that worked so well on
anything with two X chromosomes. “Who would we ask? That prairie dog over there?”

She didn’t look at the critter. She’d been seeing them more and more often. “Are we
lost?”

“No. As a matter of fact, we’re here.” As he said it, he turned onto a dirt track
that veered off the main road, and brought the car to a stop at a closed gate with
a padlock dangling from one side. Jumping out, he pulled a key from his pocket, undid
the lock, and swung the big gate wide. Then he got back in and drove through.

Moments later, Lucinda knew she was gaping, but couldn’t help herself, because the
dirt track curved and she saw, finally, Holden’s destination. A two-story log cabin
with a double-decker porch on three sides, and a barn-shaped roof, perched along the
shore of a lake so still and so clear it looked like a giant mirror reflecting the
blue sky. Around it, she could see only trees.

“My God,” she whispered. “Holden, this place is incredible.” She got out of the car
and started forward, so mesmerized she blinked in surprise when he spoke again and
she realized he was right beside her.

“Better than a five-star hotel?”

“Better than all of them.”

“No heat except the fireplace,” he said. “No lights.
We do have a fridge and a water heater that run on LP gas, though, and a generator
to run the water pump.”

She didn’t care. She didn’t care in the least. How could Holden have picked such a
perfect place for her? She had never pegged him as the sort of man who would like
a cabin in the woods. He seemed so urban, so polished. As excited as a child, she
hurried up steps made of logs sawed in two lengthwise, and cupped her hands around
her face to peer through the nearest window.

Holden laughed softly, and unlocked the door. “Come on, you’ll get a better view from
inside.”

He held the door for her, and Lucinda walked through, stopping just inside the door,
tipping her head back, her gaze moving slowly up the log wall opposite, with its massive
cobblestone fireplace and roughly-hewn mantel. Above that an ancient-looking gun rack
held two antique weapons, and above them an old photograph, fading black and white,
with a few age spots on its face, hung in an oval frame.

“Who is that?” she asked, pointing.

“Kingston Fortune. My grandfather.”

The man in the photo didn’t look like anyone’s grandfather. It had been taken when
he was young, late twenties, perhaps. His hair was longish and wavy, probably blond
like Holden’s. His eyes…were very sexy.

“You look like him,” she said.

“You think so?” He sounded surprised, and when she turned it was to see a matching
expression on his face.

“You don’t think so?”

He shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it. I’ve been told I look just like my father
for so long—”

“Well, your father looked like him, too.”

Holden made a sound of derision. “My father was nothing like him. Kingston…he was
a hell of a man. You wouldn’t believe what he survived in his lifetime.”

“No?”

Holden sent her one of his winning smiles. “I’ll tell you about him sometime. His
tales make great campfire stories.”

She lowered her head, averting her eyes. The image that had popped into her mind just
then, of the two of them, cozy and warm and intimate in front of the fireplace, rattled
her.

That was what she was here for, though. She supposed she’d better get used to the
idea.

“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.” He took her arm, leading her by his side
through the cabin. The lower level was nearly all one huge room. In this first room,
the ceilings towered, cathedral-like, but so rustic. Large beams crossed at the top,
and a wagon wheel hung from an ancient-looking black-iron chain in the center. Light
fixtures shaped like hurricane lampshades dangled from each spoke of the wheel. Kerosene
lamps, all of them. The walls were decked in furs and hides, a bear’s head here, a
buck with massive antlers over there. The furnishings were clearly chosen for comfort;
overstuffed sofa so fat it looked as if a person could get lost in its cushions. Matching
love seat and chair. A pair of rockers near the fireplace. A coffee table that was
made of no more than a slab sliced off the end of what must have been a
giant oak tree, bark still trimming its edges, all of it gleaming beneath thick layers
of clear shellac. The floors were hardwood, and woven rugs were scattered here and
there for accents.

“This is the living room, and you can see the dining room from here. Basically, it’s
the same thing.” He pointed, she nodded. A large table and chairs held court in the
opposite half of this room, their backdrop a row of large windows, and not a curtain
in sight. Holden led her over there, and stopped beside those windows.

“Best view on the place,” he said.

She nodded in agreement. The windows looked out onto the lake, spreading wide and
deep beneath a clear blue sky. Surrounded on all sides, as far as she could tell,
by wilderness. Not a smokestack, not a building, not a highway or a telephone pole
in sight. “This place is incredible.”

“I agree.” He nodded toward a doorway with a pair of bat-wing doors its only barrier.
“Through there is the kitchen, and there’s a pantry and a bathroom off that.” Then
he led her back across the sprawling living room, past the staircase, to the door
on the opposite side. “Through here is a bedroom and another bath. And there are two
more bedrooms upstairs.”

“It’s incredible,” she said. “I could be content to stay here forever.”

She felt his eyes on her, and looked up to see him staring at her with a look that
made her stomach tighten in response. Her cheeks heated, and she lowered her eyes.
She was going to sleep with him. Why did that seem to be the only thing she could
think about?

“I, um, I’ll get our bags,” he said.

She nodded. “Good. I’m ready to get out of this dress and into a pair of jeans.”

He turned, halfway to the front door, and stared back at her. “You were beautiful
today, you know. Prettiest bride I ever saw.”

Why was he being so damned
nice
to her? “Thanks, Holden. That’s very sweet.”

“Wasn’t trying to be sweet,” he replied, heading once again for the door. “Just honest.”

Then he was gone, and she was left to wonder how she was supposed to go through with
her not-so-nice little plan when he was trying to make her think he was some kind
of saint.

W
hen Holden carried the luggage into the cabin, Lucy was nowhere in sight. But he could
hear footsteps, light and quick, coming from above. She must be exploring on her own.
He’d thought of bringing her here to give her time to prepare for the moment when
she’d have to return with him to face his family—to tell them she was now a Fortune,
too. It could be, he realized, a daunting experience. And he didn’t want to push it
on her until she felt ready.

He didn’t want to push anything on her at all. Which was why he intended to honor
his agreement to keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t going to touch her, or seduce
her, or ever mention again that he felt anything beyond friendship for her. Because
he didn’t want her to start caring back. He didn’t want to ruin her life the way his
father had ruined his mother’s.

He carried the cases upstairs, through the hall, and poked his head around the corner
of the open bedroom door. “Find a room you like?”

She’d been standing near the window, gazing out at the lake, but she turned to face
him and nodded. “I can see the lake from the bed in this one.”

“Then this is the one you get,” he said, and set her overnight bag on the foot of
the bed. But then he stared at the soft white comforter for a moment. It was
rumpled, as if she’d lain upon it for a moment. And he could picture her lying there
again…her hair mussed and her eyes sleepy.

“Holden?”

“Hmm?” He didn’t look at her, couldn’t drag his gaze from the mental image of her
in that bed, staring up at him with longing in her eyes. “Damn,” he whispered.

Then she was beside him, her hand on his arm. “You okay?”

“What? Oh, um, yeah. Sure.”

She frowned at him, a cute little dimple deepening in her cheek. “I was going to ask
about the lake. Is it good for swimming?”

“It’s the best for swimming,” he told her, shaking himself free of the lingering mind
warp and focusing on the lady in front of him. “Is that what you’d like to do first?
Go swimming?”

Smiling, she nodded. “Seems like the thing to do.”

“And then what?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “Play it by ear, I guess.”

He nodded. “I’ll leave you to change.”

She dove from the dock at the water’s edge into the crystalline water while Holden
sat on the shore, too shaken to do more than watch. He’d been in a sorry state from
the moment she’d come down the stairs clad only in her bathing suit. He’d certainly
seen gorgeous women in less. In nothing. In bikinis that amounted to little more than
nothing. The suit Lucy wore was a demure one-piece tank. No plunging neckline or French-cut
leg openings. Just a simple tank. It was red. Spandex. Clingy. Her breasts were round
underneath
it, her legs, long and shapely and exposed to him, her backside, perfect for squeezing.
And he wanted her more than he had before.

Dangerous, this game he was playing. How was he ever going to get through a year without
touching her?

She popped out of the water some distance from the dock, and looked back at him. “Aren’t
you coming in?” she called.

He almost said no. It was too much to ask for him to get into the water with her,
to be that close to her. But who was he kidding? He couldn’t say no to her. So he
got to his feet in his cutoff denim shorts, and walked to the edge of the dock. “How
cold is it?” he asked, sticking one foot into the water.

“Freezing! Deliciously freezing.”

He made a face. Then he dove into the water, which was even colder than he’d expected.
He shivered as he swam, and then emerged right beside her. The droplets that clung
to her skin shimmered in the sun, and her hair was slicked back and shiny, making
her black eyes seem even larger and darker than before. She slid backward in the water,
floating on her back and looking up at the sky. The cold water made her nipples stiff
underneath the suit, and he could only stare at them for a long moment.

“Holden?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to stand there shivering, or are you going to swim?” She rolled over,
and shot off through the water like an errant mermaid, kicking water into his face
as she left. Playful. He’d never seen her like this.

Holden shot off after her, catching her easily, and
then they turned and swam back toward the dock together. Holden climbed out, then
turned and offered her a hand up. She took it, let him pull her out of the water,
then stood beside him with her arms wrapped around her shoulders. He quickly snatched
up one of the towels he’d brought down, and draped it over her. His hand slid over
her shoulder, lingering there for just a moment before he made himself take it away.

With a sigh, he snatched the other towel and began rubbing himself down with it. And
he didn’t fail to notice the way she stole glances at him as he did. She seemed to
approve of his chest, his abs, which made him glad, and then made him crazy.

Maybe bringing her up here wasn’t such a great idea.

“Coming here was a wonderful idea, Holden,” she said, and it was so much as if she’d
read his mind that he looked up fast. “It’s just what we both needed, I think. There’s
so much tension at home.”

He nodded. “How’s it going with the baby?”

She blinked, looked up at him. “The…the baby?”

“The preemie?” As he spoke, he turned her and led her back onto the grassy bank. Halfway
to the house, a wide wooden bench sat where it had been for the last twenty-odd years,
and he took her to it, sat down beside her there.

“Oh, right. It’s still touch and go, but she’s improving. The mother is home already,
but the baby’s going to be in the hospital for at least a couple of weeks.”

“That’s going to be a hell of a bill for someone with no insurance.”

Lucy sighed, nodding. “And if they’d had proper
prenatal care, they could have saved themselves all of this.” She looked up at Holden.
“How about Claudia and Matt? How are they holding up?”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. Still no sign of Bryan, and not a word from
the kidnappers.”

“God, your family must be going crazy with worry.”

Holden nodded. “That’s part of the reason I wanted us to come out here. I didn’t want
us starting our year together with all that baggage weighing us down.”

She looked away. “That was really thoughtful of you.”

“Hey, I’m a thoughtful guy.”

“Who’d have guessed?”

Holden felt his brows go up. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”

“It was…surprise.”

“Hell, I’m full of those. Then again, so’s the rest of the family.”

“You didn’t tell them what we were planning to do today. I’m worried about that.”

He eyed her, facing him now, searching him with her dark, probing eyes. “No. I asked
Logan to keep it under wraps for now because I’d prefer to tell them myself.”

She sighed.

“What?” he asked, instantly worried.

“Nothing. I just…think it might have been better to tell them. It would have given
them time to get used to the idea before we get back there.”

Holden smiled slowly. “Are you afraid of my family, Lucinda in the Sky?”

Her head came up quickly, eyes going wide. “My God.”

“What?”

“You haven’t called me that since…” But she didn’t finish. She slammed her eyes shut,
shook her head.

“I always called you that, Lucy. Just not out loud.”

Sighing, she slowly met his eyes again. “Why?”

Holden reached up to gently push a wet tendril of hair off her cheek and tuck it behind
her ear. “Because you always seemed…out of reach.”

Her brows lifted in surprise. “That’s almost funny. If you knew how easily you…that
is, how easily you could have…” She closed her eyes and gave her head a shake.

“I knew. But I also knew you deserved better. I’d have only hurt you, Lucy, and I
knew myself well enough to know it. I didn’t want to do that, so I left you alone.”

She blinked slowly. “You mean…you
did
like me? Want me…back then?”

He stared at her for a long moment, seeing a reflection of that adoration that he
used to always see in her eyes. “Maybe this isn’t such a good subject for us just
now.” He got to his feet.

To his surprise, Lucy did, as well, gripping his forearm and tugging him around to
face her again. “Well, that’s too bad, then, because I want to know. My God, Holden,
do you know how much your indifference hurt me back then?”

“Indifference?” He closed his eyes, shook his head slowly. “Jeez, Lucy, I was eating
my heart out. But it was for your own good.”

Mouth agape, she made a sound of disbelief. “It’s just like you to think you know
what’s best for me.”

“Oh, come on, Lucy, all of this was over fifteen years ago for crying out loud.”

“You admitted you were attracted to me but… Do you still want me, Holden?”

He went utterly still. Searching her face, seeing nothing revealed that she didn’t
want to reveal, he just stood there, shocked. “What happened to that shy little wallflower
I thought I was marrying?”

“She grew up,” she said. “Don’t tell me you expected me to stay the same lovesick
little girl after all this time.”

“I…don’t know what I expected.”

“But not this.”

“Lucy, I’m not even sure what
this
is. What do you want from me?”

She shrugged, lowered her head, shaking it. “Nothing.”

“Good. Because I don’t have anything to give you. Look, Lucy, don’t even let yourself
begin to think about making more out of what’s between us than there is, because I
won’t. I can’t. I thought we were both clear on that.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, and the look sent a chill right to his bones. “For my
own good?” she asked.

He lied. He lied through his teeth. Because she scared the hell out of him all of
the sudden. “Because I’m already itching to get back to my old life-style, Lucy. A
different woman every month, sometimes every week. I like it that way.”

The blow hit. He saw her flinch, and that meant it
hurt her a little bit. And if it hurt her, that meant she already felt more than she
should. Jeez, he hadn’t planned on this. He hadn’t expected this.

He needed to keep his distance…now more than ever.

Well, he’d certainly made his feelings clear. He might want her…in fact, she was increasingly
certain he did. She’d seen his eyes when she’d walked down the stairs in her bathing
suit. And when she’d been in the water. And when she got out. He wanted her.

Just like he wanted every halfway-decent-looking female under the age of seventy.
He was a womanizer, she reminded herself. Through and through. Always had been. She
didn’t know why the hell she let herself think for even a moment that he might have
changed. Then again, it ought to work in her favor, right?

She put on dry clothes in the bedroom she’d chosen. Jeans and a snug-fitting T-shirt.
She was in no mood for seduction tonight. Not after the way he’d slapped her down.
Still, time was of the essence here.

But there was something else niggling at her, and she couldn’t stop turning it over
in her mind, poking at it like a sore tooth. If he wanted her the way he wanted every
other woman he met, then why wasn’t he trying to have her? Why wasn’t he flirting
or touching or teasing her? Why?

She didn’t understand it, and it was frustrating to think she’d have to work harder
than she’d expected to get him to cooperate with her plan. She was not an experienced
seductress. She was not an expert lover. She’d never initiated a sexual interlude
in her life. She
wasn’t even certain she could drum up the brass to do it now, when so much depended
on it.

Especially with a man who, for some reason only he could know, was unwilling! She’d
expected him to go back on his word and start trying to get her into bed the minute
they were pronounced man and wife.

Damn him.

She brushed her hair, and then as an afterthought, her teeth, reapplied her deodorant,
and finally, she was ready to face him again. She probably wouldn’t have the gall
to try to initiate anything tonight. Not after he’d made it pretty clear he didn’t
want her to. But if the opportunity—and the nerve—presented itself, she wanted to
be ready. Taking a breath, straightening her spine, she went back downstairs to find
her new husband.

Holden had expected this to be easy. She’d seemed like the perfect solution. A woman
he respected, liked, even. A woman with no expectations of him, willing to be his
wife in name only for a year in exchange for a sizable chunk of change.

Well, thinking it would be that simple had, he supposed, been his first mistake. Nothing
was ever easy. But she sure had taken him by surprise. Hell, he still wasn’t sure
what had happened, but there was a tension brewing between them now, one that hadn’t
been there before.

He stood at the counter in the kitchen, tossing a salad while a pair of steaks cooked
to perfection on the built-in grill. The cabin’s pantry was always well stocked, and
he’d had the forethought to send someone ahead with fresh produce and perishables,
and to turn
on the gas-powered fridge to keep it all fresh. After all, it wasn’t the first time
he’d swept a woman away for a weekend retreat. He had it down to a science.

Not that this time was anything like any of the times before. He’d never been nervous
or unsure of himself, never been more confused about what a woman wanted…. Hell, he’d
never been married before.

And he’d never been more attentive, every cell in his body attuned and alert, ready
to go taut again at the slightest sound from his little wife.

So why was it the sound of her clearing her throat behind him came without any warning
whatsoever and made him whirl, dropping salad tongs and a few scraps of lettuce onto
the floor?

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

She was laughing at him behind that innocent expression. He could tell. “Uh, I didn’t
hear you come in, is all.” Glancing down at the mess on the floor, he noted that she
was in her sock feet. No wonder she’d sneaked up on him so silently. Then as he hunkered
down to gather up the salad tongs, his gaze moved up her legs, over faded blue jeans
that hugged her hips and crawled between her thighs the way he wanted to do.