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Blackhawk's Sweet Revenge
Barbara McCauley
THE BRIDE'S DEMANDHe was the renegade, the outcast… and the object of her youthful affection. And when Native American Lucan Blackhawk triumphantly returned to his hometown, on a quest for revenge, Julianna Hadley readily agreed to his shocking proposal. Boldly she married the man who sought to destroy her father.For Julianna knew only her fierce and enduring love could tame her solitary groom. And as Lucas laid claim to her body and soul, vowing to accept nothing less than her ultimate surrender, his virgin bride resolved to win nothing less than all of Blackhawk's heart! A hidden passion, a hidden child, a hidden fortune. Revel in the unfolding of these powerful, passionate… SECRETS!


“The price is you. I want you to marry met.” (#uaf0a528b-f3fd-5011-9aa3-b47f84faf4bd)Letter to Reader (#u9273d459-01be-5a78-af82-4315f8692946)Title Page (#ub348cb70-9ead-56de-9e55-5a11320ff9ac)About the Author (#ue7b27a25-09df-5c49-8140-bdb5f17c1e54)Prologue (#u0cf1d395-cca0-5f27-88c3-275b1eda6f7f)Chapter One (#u80491975-a66f-5df2-9cf8-139f8f1810df)Chapter Two (#u1e1f2b79-4eed-53c1-bd85-d3faf785a575)Chapter Three (#u5773504c-88a4-5a94-aa73-bf9b258ab207)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“The price is you. I want you to marry me.”
Lucas let his finger skim her earlobe, then move down her neck. “You want something from me. Maybe I want something from you, too.”
Color flushed Julianna’s pale cheeks. “You don’t have to marry me for that. You could just...I mean, I could...”
“Be my mistress?” he finished for her. “Let’s just call this a long-term investment. One that includes children.”
“Children?” she gasped. “You want me to have your child?”
He struggled to contain his anger over the shocked tone in her voice. “I want a family, and their mother will be my wife, not my mistress. Make no mistake, Julianna. You will be mine, and mine alone.”
“And love, Lucas?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “What about love?”
Dear Reader,
The joys of summer are upon us—along with some July fireworks from Silhouette Desire!
The always wonderful Jennifer Greene presents our July MAN OF THE MONTH in Prince Charming’s Child.
A contemporary romance version of Sleeping Beauty, this title also launches the author’s new miniseries. HAPPILY EVER AFTER, inspired by those magical fairy tales we loved in childhood. And ever-talented Anne Marie Winston is back with a highly emotional reunion romance in Lovers’ Reunion. The popular miniseries TEXAS BRIDES by Peggy Moreland continues with the provocative story of That McCloud Woman. Sheiks abound in Judith McWilliams’s The Sheik’s Secret, while a plain Jane is wooed by a millionaire in Jan Hudson’s Plain Jane’s Texan. And Barbara McCauley’s new dramatic miniseries, SECRETS!, debuts this month with Blackhawk’s Sweet Revenge.
We’ve got more excitement for you next month—watch for the premiere of the compelling new Desire miniseries THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB. Some of the sexiest, most powerful men in the Lone Star State are members of this prestigious club, and they all find love when they least expect it! You’ll learn more about THE TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB in our August Dear Reader letter, along with an update on Silhouette’s new continuity. THE FORTUNES OF TEXAS, debuting next month.
And this month, join in the celebrations by treating yourself to all six passionate Silhouette Desire titles.
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont L2A 5X3
Blackhawk’s Sweet Revenge
Barbara McCauley



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
BARBARA McCAULEY was born and raised in California and has spent a good portion of her life exploring the mountains, beaches and deserts so abundant there. The youngest of five children, she grew up in a small house, and her only chance for a moment alone was to sneak into the backyard with a book and quietly hide away.
With two children of her own now and a busy household, she still finds herself slipping away to enjoy a good novel. A daydreamer and incurable romantic, she says writing has fulfilled her most incredible dream of all—breathing life into the people in her mind and making them real. She has one loud and demanding Amazon parrot named Fred and a German shepherd named Max. When she can manage the time, she loves to sink her hands into fresh-turned soil and make things grow.
Prologue
There was a bad moon rising.
Bright and full, it glowed through thick bands of dark, fast-moving clouds, while a crisp breeze, heavy with the scent of fall and freshly turned dirt, shuddered through the sycamores and over the rolling expanse of manicured lawn.
Three boys moved quietly through the darkness, weaving between the rigid pillars of stone until they stood at the farthest edge of Wolf River Cemetery. There were no trees here over the new grave, no picturesque creeks or shrubbery. No headstone, no marker. Just flat, cold ground.
Grim-faced, the boys circled the grave.
Lucas Blackhawk was the first to speak. At thirteen, he was the oldest of the trio by five months. “You get what we need, Santos?”
Nick Santos, the youngest by ten months, reached under his tattered sweatshirt and pulled a hammer from the waistband of his jeans. “I wasn’t fast enough to get the nails. Grunts was coming up the hallway and almost caught me in the tool room.”
Grunts, as the boys affectionately called the night guard at Wolf River County Home for Boys, was nicknamed for his asthmatic breathing. Though the ailment was an unfortunate stroke of luck for the guard, for the boys it served as early detection of his approach.
“Nick Santos not fast enough?” Killian Shawnessy ribbed. Ian had never known his exact birthday, but the priest who’d found him on the steps of St. Matthew’s Seminary estimated late April. That made him five months younger than Lucas. “Ain’t no one faster than you, Nick.”
They all grinned at that.
By all appearances, the boys could have been brothers. Tall, lean frames, dark hair. And their eyes, deep brown, all glinted with the same fierce intensity that even at their young age made other males wary and females sigh.
The breeze picked up, rustling dried leaves around the three boys’ feet. They sobered quickly and stared down at the grave below them.
Lucas flipped on a flashlight and handed it to Ian, then pulled a stake out of his backpack and passed it to Nick. “You hammer the stake in. Ian, shine that light into my backpack. I got some wire here somewhere.”
Nick drove the stake into the ground while Lucas retrieved a roll of wire. Both boys then turned to Ian.
Ian hesitated, then pulled out the wooden plaque he’d been holding under his arm. Lucas took it from him and attached it to the stake with three loops of wire. They all stood back.
THOMAS BLACKHAWK
BELOVED FATHER AND FRIEND
Lucas stared at his father’s name, then blinked back the threatening tears. He hadn’t cried when Mr. Hornsby, the director at the Home, had told him that his father had been killed in a prison riot one week ago, and he wouldn’t cry now. Thomas Blackhawk would want his only son to be strong.
And Lucas needed to be strong. Because somehow, someday, the wrong that had been done to him and his father must be answered for. And the man who would answer, the man who would one day pay for stealing the Blackhawk Circle B Ranch, was Mason Hadley, Wolf River’s wealthiest and most prominent citizen.
“Hey, I almost forgot.” Nick reached into the back pocket of his jeans. “I brought a candle. Snatched it from an emergency kit in the tool room.”
Matches followed and a moment later a plain white candle flared to life. Nick set the candle in front of the marker, and the three boys stood quietly, watching the flame rise.
Lucas was alone now. His mother had died two years earlier and there was no other family. Except for Ian and Nick. They were his family now. And he was theirs.
He reached for the heavy metal chain dangling from one of his belt loops, unclipped the pocketknife hanging there and opened it.
He said nothing, just spread his hand, palm up, then lightly dragged the knife over the inside of his knuckles. A thin line of blood rose. Ian took the knife next, did the same, then Nick.
Without a word, the three young men clasped hands over the flame.
A sudden wind whipped at their hair and circled their feet. Leaves scattered, and the flutter of wings sounded overhead. The flame of the candle never moved.
Eyes wide, they looked to the night sky. But there was nothing. Only the moon, as brilliant as it was round, shining down at them.
At that moment they all knew that no matter what, they would always be there for each other.
Always.
One
The town of Wolf River never expected to see the likes of Lucas Blackhawk again. Bad blood, that’s what everyone whispered, and half-Indian blood, at that. They all knew that the boy would never amount to anything. After all, hadn’t his daddy been a convict, and hadn’t Lucas himself spent almost two years at the Wolf River County Home for Boys? Not much good could come of that now, could it? Lucas Blackhawk had left Wolf River, Texas, more than ten years ago, and as far as the town was concerned, good riddance.
Lucas couldn’t wait to see the faces of the good folks in Wolf River when word spread that he was back. And word would spread, all right, Lucas thought with a slow grin. With all the intensity, and all the welcome, of a winter virus.
“May I help you, sir?”
The maid who’d answered the massive, polished oak door at the Double H Ranch estate was hardly more than a girl. Her mousy brown hair matched her nervous eyes, and her gray-and-white uniform hung loose on her rail-thin body. She didn’t know it yet, but she’d be seeking employment after today.
“I’m here to see Mr. Hadley.”
“Mr. Hadley went into town with his daughter, sir.” Even her voice was small, and Lucas had to lean forward to catch her words. “I’m afraid he won’t be back until three, and he has an appointment at three-thirty. I’ll be happy to take your name and number and have his secretary call you.”
Off to town with the dutiful daughter, was he? Lucas thought dryly. Julianna Hadley, with her pale blond hair and smoke-blue eyes. The untouchable Ice Princess, especially to a half-breed hoodlum like himself. He still remembered the last time he saw her. He’d been twenty-two, working at Hansen’s Feed and Grain. He’d caught her watching him while he’d been loading bales of hay on a truck. She’d turned quickly away, but not before he’d seen the look in her beautiful eyes.
Pity.
He’d quit his job an hour later, packed his meager bag and left Wolf River, carrying that look with him for ten years. It fed his anger, his determination, when he was tired or wanted to give up.
She didn’t know it, but Julianna Hadley had been his inspiration.
Lucas removed his sunglasses and tucked them into the jacket pocket of his Armani suit, then tipped back his black Stetson to give the maid a full view of his eyes. Wolf eyes, as one of his female companions had commented once. Eyes the color of a moonless night. He’d used those eyes to his advantage more than once. To intimidate or to seduce. Or in this case, with the timid young woman, to charm.
Lucas Blackhawk was a man who knew how to get what he wanted.
He smiled at the maid. “Actually, Miss...” He drew the word out, waiting for her to fill in the blank.
“Grayson.” Her cheeks colored. “Heather Grayson.”
“Heather.” He repeated her name with just the right dash of intimacy to make her entire face flush. “Actually, Heather, I am Mr. Hadley’s three-thirty.”
“Oh, dear.” Frowning, Heather bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, sir. I was expecting a Mr. Cantrell. He was here last week and I just assumed—”
“Mr. Cantrell was called out of town at the last minute.” Lucas had given his top CEO a trip to the Bahamas as a bonus for a job well done. A job very well done.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.” He handed her a business card for First Mutual Financial, one of Blackhawk Enterprises many subsidiaries. Lucas’s name was intentionally absent from the card.
The maid stared at the card, then back at him. Lucas turned up the smile, and the woman’s blush deepened. Flustered, she stuck the card into her pocket and stepped aside. “I’m sorry, sir. Please, come into Mr. Hadley’s office and make yourself comfortable. He shouldn’t be too much longer.”
Lucas had only been in the Hadley mansion once before. He hadn’t been welcome then, either. But his mission had been the same: revenge. He’d only been twelve at the time. Angry, out for blood, furiously waving a knife. Impulsive, with no plan.
It had taken him twenty years, but he’d learned to control his anger. He was no longer impulsive, and this time he definitely had a plan.
Everything about the house was as he’d remembered it. The hunter-green marble floor, the sweeping walnut staircase and high, paneled walls, the gaudy antique entry table and oversize gilded mirror above it. Dark. As cold and as lifeless as a corpse.
There were ghosts here, Lucas knew. He felt them shiver up his spine. They needed to be put to rest.
“This way, sir.”
He could have told the maid that he knew the way to her employer’s office. That he’d been there before, that he’d tried to kill the man in that very room. He wondered if that would distress the young woman. Knowing how Hadley treated his servants, hell, how he treated everyone, the woman would probably be grateful.
It was when he stepped into Mason’s office, when he saw his portrait over the large oak desk, that he felt it. The rage he’d struggled with all these years. It poured through him, threatened to explode, but he forced it back down, corralled it deep inside of him and stepped away from it.
“Are you all right, Mr.—” She hesitated, realized she hadn’t asked his name.
“I’m fine, Heather.” Lucas had no intention of giving her his name. He wanted to see the surprise on Hadley’s face, the shock, when he recognized his visitor.
Every risk, every gamble, every back-breaking hour of every eighteen-hour day for the past ten years had brought him here, to this very moment. He’d imagined it a thousand times: what he’d feel, what he’d think, what he’d say. What Hadley would do.
At the sound of a car door slam from the driveway outside, Lucas realized he was about to find out.
Julianna Hadley had heard all about the stranger who had come into town. All there was to hear, anyway, which hadn’t been much more than a whisper in the dark. At the drugstore she’d been standing in line behind Roberta Brown, who was arguing with the clerk, Millie Woods, about whether the car the man drove was a Porsche or a Ferrari. The one thing the two women had agreed on was that the car was black and had roared down Main Street and into the parking lot of the Four Winds Inn like a shiny bat out of hell.
Noses had been pressed up to every window within sight of the town’s newest and biggest hotel—a whopping twelve stories high with a fancy restaurant and bar inside. But other than hair as black as his car, no one could make out the man’s features as he unfolded his long body out of the sleek foreign frame, whistled, then handed the keys to Bobby John Gibson, a teenage bellboy whose status amongst his peers was about to rise substantially. After all, no teenager in Wolf River had ever stood within spitting distance of a Porsche or Ferrari, let alone driven one. This was horse and cattle country. Trucks and four-wheeldrives were the vehicles of choice, and of necessity, in Wolf River.
But a black Porsche. Now that was something to set tongues wagging faster than a thirsty dog. Lord knew, a little excitement in Wolf River was just what the town needed.
“What the hell—?”
At the sound of her father’s sudden growl, Julianna pulled herself out of her musing and glanced up.
In their driveway, its chrome gleaming brightly in the late-afternoon sun, its long, sleek body black as polished onyx, sat a brand-new sports car.
A Ferrari.
Her breath hitched, then slowly slid over her parted lips. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“It’s damned foreign,” her father snapped and slammed out of the truck to head for the house.
That makes it no less beautiful, she thought, but knew better than to argue the issue with him. Anything different, anything Mason Hadley didn’t understand, was useless to him.
Packages in hand, Julianna followed her father into the house. Heather stood in the entryway, arms laden with a silver coffee server. The cups rattled from her nervous shaking as Mason hotly berated her for letting a stranger into the house.
“He’s your three-thirty, sir. Said Mr. Cantrell was called out of town.” Eyes downcast, the young woman struggled to steady her hands. “I was bringing him some coffee while he waited.”
“Damn it all to hell,” Mason hissed through his teeth. “That Cantrell fella might have been an idiot when it came to business, but at least I had his number. Smooth brandy and a Cuban cigar and that boy was eating out of my hand. Makes no difference now, I suppose. It’s a done deal. This must be some errand boy, delivering the papers I signed last week.”
An errand boy in a Ferrari? Julianna glanced at the closed office door. Highly unlikely.
“What the hell you standing around for, girl?” Mason shrugged out of his denim jacket. “Go take the boy some coffee.”
“Let me have that, Heather.” Julianna set her packages down and took the tray. “Why don’t you take my things and put them away?”
Thankful for the opportunity to be anywhere but around her employer in a foul mood, Heather smiled at Julianna. “Thank you, ma‘am.”
Julianna sighed at Heather’s formal address. At twenty-nine, Julianna didn’t want to be a ma‘am. It made her feel so old. But then, a lot of things were making her feel old these days. A couple walking hand in hand, pictures of brides and babies, the sound of cheers from the Little League field at the edge of town.
All the things she would never have.
Shrugging off the thought, she followed her father to his office. He’d been negotiating with First Mutual Financial for the past two months and had been gloating ever since he’d finally signed the papers, puffed up with self-admiration that he’d finagled such a low interest rate. What First Mutual hadn’t known was that he’d been so anxious for the deal to go through he would have signed anything. After the drop in value of some stocks, and the rise in price of grain and the fall in beef, he’d desperately needed the loan to cover losses and raise operating capital. She knew that he’d also been quite full of himself at his successful manipulation of figures and falsified statements, had even laughed that Adam Cantrell, the loan representative, was too stupid to find his way out of a corral, let alone find a discrepancy in a profit-andloss.
Which was strange, because she hadn’t thought the man stupid at all, even though she’d only spoken with him a few minutes once or twice. If anything, he’d seemed extremely sharp.
It made no difference to her either way. The only thing that mattered, that had ever mattered, was her own five acres of land and house on the south edge of the Double H property. That was the one thing, the only thing, her mother had left to her when she’d died that her father hadn’t gotten his hands on. It had been almost a year since the funeral, and he’d managed to stonewall her from repairing and moving into the old house, but he hadn’t gained title. And she would do anything to ensure he never would.
Mason turned sharply at the door of his office and looked at Julianna. “Just serve the damn coffee, then leave us alone. Last thing I need is a woman underfoot when I’m trying to do business.”
Jaw tightly clenched, Julianna followed her father into his office. A man stood in front of the double French doors that led to the redwood deck stretching across the back of the house. He was tall, very tall, with broad shoulders. His black neatly trimmed hair touched the collar of his expensive tailored suit.
This was no errand boy.
She had no idea why she suddenly couldn’t breathe. She felt an energy in the room; so strong it nearly hummed. Frozen, she simply stared at the man, but she couldn’t see his face.
“Julianna.” Her father’s voice was low and sharp. Shaken, she turned away, moved to the bar in the far corner of the office to set down the tray... to remind herself to breathe.
She forced her attention to the coffee as her father boomed a cheerful, good-old-boy greeting and strode heavily across the shiny hardwood floor to shake the man’s hand.
“Sit, sit.” Mason gestured across the massive oak desk to a smaller version of his own burgundy leather chair, and the man settled across from him.
“So what can I do for you, young man?” With a creak of leather, Mason leaned back. “By the way, that fool maid of mine didn’t get your name.”
“Actually, Mr. Hadley, it’s what I’m going to do for you.”
His voice. Julianna’s hand tightened on the coffeepot. Once again, she couldn’t breathe. Not because she’d forgotten, but because she couldn’t That voice. Deep, rough, edged with deadly calm. Familiar, so familiar. The hum in the room increased with the tension.
“How’s that, son?” Mason, delighted at the prospect of a new offer, grinned.
“You have forty-eight hours to repay your loan to First Financial or vacate the property.”
Julianna, with the coffeepot still in her hand and the cup in midair, turned abruptly. The man sat comfortably, one elbow resting casually over the arm of the chair. To look at him, she’d have thought he’d been discussing a football game.
Had he actually said what she thought he’d said? First Financial was calling the loan?
Her father’s grin froze. His gray eyes narrowed in his coarsely lined face. “What the hell kind of a joke is this?”
“No joke at all. The loan is being called. The land, the house and contents, the cattle. Quite literally, Mr. Hadley, every single asset you own will be sold as collateral.”
“You’re insane.” Fists clenched, Mason rose slowly. “On what grounds would they call a loan where the ink hasn’t even dried on the damn paper?”
“I’ll start with fraud, based on the fact that the information supplied by you to obtain the loan was intentionally falsified. It not only invalidates the loan, it also happens to be illegal.”
That voice. She knew that voice. But her legs wouldn’t move, couldn’t walk the few feet across the room to see the man’s face clearly. She stood frozen, with the silver coffeepot in one hand, a white bone china coffee cup in the other.
“Just who the hell are you?” Mason roared, his face red with fury.
“You remember Thomas Blackhawk, don’t you?” The man stood, looked directly down at her father. “You stole the Circle B from him, all ten thousand acres, then had him falsely sent to prison. I’m Lucas, Mr. Hadley. Lucas Blackhawk.”
In the second before the coffee cup slipped from her hand, the second before the coffeepot followed, tune stood still....
She was nine years old. Standing in this very room, behind the drapes, terrified, watching her father and Thomas Blackhawk. The nightmare had been with her for twenty years. The loud voices... the gun... the explosion...
“Are you all right?”
She felt his hand on her arm, realized that he’d moved beside her. How had he done that, so quickly, so quietly? Breath held, she raised her gaze to his. Those eyes, eyes that could see not through a person, but into them, into the darkness, into the truth.
She couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t find the words to answer him. They stood there, eyes locked, her heart pounding so fiercely she knew he could hear it.
Lucas Blackhawk. Here. In Wolf River.
“Get the hell away from my daughter.”
Her father’s shout brought her back. Spilled coffee, still steaming, pooled around her feet, stained her khaki pants and leather pumps. She bent down, reached for a piece of broken china. His hand was still on her arm as he bent down, as well, and righted the coffeepot.
“I said get the hell away from her, you half-breed bastard,” Mason continued to rant. “Your kind ain’t fit to be in the same room with civilized people.”
Shamed and humiliated by her father’s outburst, Julianna looked away.
“You’re hurt,” Lucas said quietly, ignoring her father’s continued verbal assault. “Let go, Julianna.”
She glanced at her fisted hand, saw that it was bleeding. Lucas gently pried her fingers open, removed the jagged piece of china she’d clutched tightly in her palm. His fingers were long, his hands large and callused. She shuddered at his touch, then quickly drew her hand from his.
“Keep away from me, Lucas.”
A hard, cold glint shone in his eyes. The strong, square line of his jaw tightened. Though it was less than a fraction of a second, she felt and saw the intensity of his anger and rage. It terrified her, and yet at the same time she welcomed it.
She deserved it.
Then, just as quickly, his expression was blank, replaced by indifference. “Still the Ice Princess, Julianna, or is it Queen now?”
His words cut more sharply than the broken china, but she deserved that, too. She’d earned her title well, had sacrificed and struggled to maintain it all these years. How else could she survive? How else could she manage to live through the nightmare, other than to pretend she didn’t care, when the truth was she did care. She cared too much. Too damned much.
Lucas rose and turned to face her father again. “As I said, Hadley, you have forty-eight hours to pay off the loan or clear out. And since we both know you haven’t a snowball’s chance in hell of coming up with that kind of money, you may as well start packing.”
“You can’t just come in here and make ultimatums, boy. I have a reputation in this community, I know people.” Mason slammed both fists on his desk, rattling his phone and knocking over his silver pencil holder. “I’ll see you fired from First Financial before this day is through. You‘ ll never work again.”
“Your reputation does precede you, Hadley,” Lucas said coldly. “As does the stink from a skunk. And the only people you’re going to know from now on are creditors, lawyers and the district attorney’s office. Oh, and I guess I forgot to mention it, First Financial is one of several subsidiaries owned by Blackhawk Industries, which just happens to be my company. We’ll be bulldozing this house and the house by the creek. Maybe build a resort or a business center.”
The house by the creek? Dread curled in Julianna’s stomach, then tightened her chest.
“The house by the creek is mine.” She struggled to keep the panic out of her voice. “My mother willed it to me.”
Lucas turned to her, his black eyes dispassionate. “Your father’s name is on the title. That makes it mine.”
She looked at her father, and even through the rage on his face, she saw the truth. He’d taken her house. Somehow he’d stolen the one thing, the only thing, that had ever mattered to her.
An icy chill seeped through her, and she clutched the neck of her sweater, not caring that blood still dripped from the cut on her palm. She wanted to scream at her father, knew that she should, but all she felt was numb. Defeated.
A business center? Dear God, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. When she opened them again, Lucas was watching her, his mouth a hard, thin line.
She couldn’t let him see her like this. Couldn’t let him know that in his thirst for revenge he’d not only destroyed her father, but herself, as well.
And why would it matter to him, anyway? Mason Hadley had taken Lucas’s father from him, had murdered Thomas Blackhawk as surely as if he’d put a gun to his head. He’d destroyed a young boy’s childhood, his family, his dreams.
And she’d done nothing to help.
Dimly, she knew that her father was shouting obscenities at Lucas, but Lucas ignored the insults. Instead he kept his eyes on her, staring at her, into her, as if he knew the truth.
“Put something on that hand, Julianna,” he said without emotion, then turned and walked out of the room.
Her father was shouting into the phone now, as the Ferrari’s engine roared to life, then shot out of the driveway.
Lucas Blackhawk had risen from the past like a demon from hell. Full of hatred and vengeance, he’d come to even an old score. He had every right, and deep in her heart, no matter what the cost to her, she was glad. Because she admired him, because she respected him.
Because she loved him.
Two
A cold wind blew in dark, angry clouds from the south. Lightning streaked silver against the black sky, and thunder shook the windows of the Four Winds Hotel suite. Rain, which had started only moments ago, already drenched the streets in town, not to mention any poor, unfortunate soul caught out walking in the downpour.
Thankful to be out of the monkey suit he’d had on earlier, dressed now in a pair of faded jeans and his favorite, though well-worn, chambray shirt, Lucas stood on the small, covered balcony of the hotel room and listened to the steady pound of the storm. The scent of rain was heavy; the charge of nature’s electricity alive in the evening air. A Texas storm was always a force to be reckoned with, respected and never underestimated.
A fitting end to the day.
A slow, tight smile curved Lucas’s mouth. He could still see the shock in Hadley’s face, the fury in his eyes. Lucas had waited twenty years to see that look. Twenty years to watch Hadley’s recognition dawn, then grow as he realized that the crimes of his past had finally caught up with him. That it was time to pay, and payback was definitely a bitch.
The fact that Julianna had been there, as well, had only been an added bonus. To see her lose her composure had been a surprise. He’d watched the color drain from her beautiful face when he’d taken her hand in his, felt her shake at his touch.
Heard the disgust in her voice when she’d told him to keep away from her.
His jaw tightened. Twenty years had certainly changed nothing for Julianna Hadley. She still thought herself too good for him, probably for any man. Why else had she never married?
Of course, he’d never married, either, but that was a different matter entirely. He’d had a goal, one goal only, and a wife would have been an encumbrance. Very few women would have tolerated the eighteen-hour, seven-day weeks for long. In the few relationships he’d had, he’d made it perfectly clear from the start there was no wedding ring in sight, no children, no happily-ever-after. The few who’d thought to change that had been sorely mistaken. They’d quickly learned that tears and tantrums had no effect on him. If anything, they only irritated him.
But maybe now was the time to consider changing his marital status, he thought. It wasn’t that he was thinking of settling down exactly. It just might be easier to know where he’d be parking his boots at night, and would certainly erase the necessity of finding a partner in bed.
He wondered briefly who, if anyone, parked his boots under Julianna Hadley’s bed at the moment. Wondered if that bed was as cold as the woman.
A knock at the door brought his head around. He’d ordered dinner from room service, preferring the quiet of his room to the noisy restaurant downstairs. He’d wanted to be alone tonight. To think about Hadley. Savor his victory.
So why, then, had he been thinking about Julianna?
And why, when he opened the door, was she standing there?
Her light blond hair was damp, pulled back into a severe ponytail. Rain glistened on her sculptured cheeks and dark, thick eyelashes; drops clung to the shoulders of her long tan trench coat. The black turtleneck underneath emphasized her pale skin and big blue eyes. The effect was stunning, and his gut clenched at the sight of her. A woman like this knew how beautiful she was, knew the effect she had on men. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of anything but cool indifference.
Chin raised, lips pressed tightly together, she clutched a small black purse. “May I come in?”
He looked down the hallway. It was empty, quiet. No lights on the elevator signaling anyone else was coming.
“I’m alone,” she said. “But if you’re not, if you have company—”
“What are you doing here, Julianna?”
“I need to speak with you, Lucas. I have to—”
“I’ll just bet you do.”
His hand snaked out, dragged her inside the hotel room and pushed her back against the now closed door.
“Is this when you start screaming?” he asked roughly. “Maybe someone with a camera breaks the door down? Or another ‘guest’ just happens to be walking by, someone who will claim I attacked you?”
Eyes wide, she shook her head. “I’m alone,” she said breathlessly. “And you have attacked me. Now let me go.”
He smiled slowly, kept his hands firmly against the door, holding her trapped between his arms. He saw the fear flicker in her blue-gray eyes, but she didn’t fight him, didn’t push him away.
He told himself it was to intimidate her, not please himself when he leaned in closer. She’d brought the storm in with her. He smelled it on her, resisted the urge to dip his head lower and press his lips to the pulse beating rapidly at the base of her neck. “Has your father sent you to seduce me, Julianna? Convince me to change my mind?”
He saw the anger now, the subtle narrowing of her eyes, the tight press of her tempting lips. “My father doesn’t know I’m here.”
His laugh was dry. “You’re good, Julianna,. Real good. I almost believe you.”
“It’s true. No one except Lily at the front desk knows I’m here. I told her we had a meeting, that you were expecting me.”
“Lies come easy to the Hadleys, don’t they?” She was a head shorter than him, but still tall for a woman, and she kept her gaze steady with his. “I wouldn’t mind if you seduced me, Jule. I’ll bet when the Ice Princess steps off her throne, she heats up fast.”
Her eyes closed, but not before he saw a shimmer there. Certainly not tears, Lucas thought. Not from Julianna Hadley.
A knock at the door had them both jumping. Her eyes flew open in panic.
“No one knows you’re here, huh?” He took her chin in his hand. “Don’t you need to tear your clothes or something, mess that perfect hair, cry?”
“Room service,” a young, enthusiastic voice boomed from the other side of the door.
She glared at him, knocked his hand away, then turned her back and stepped out onto the open balcony.
Dammit. Lucas jerked open the door, bit back the urge to yell. What the hell, he thought, tolerating the young man’s cheerful greeting and food setup. Maybe he did need a minute to compose himself, to control the unexpected and unwanted response he’d had to Julianna. In fact, maybe he needed two minutes.
Julianna forced herself to take slow breaths. She focused on the curtain of water falling from the canopy over the balcony, told herself it was the moist cold that had her shaking, not Lucas’s manhandling. His behavior was no less than she’d expected, certainly no less than she deserved. After what her father had put him through, why wouldn’t he hate her, too?
At least he hadn’t thrown her out. Yet. If only he would listen to her, believe her, then maybe, just maybe, she could save the only thing in the world that mattered to her.
“It’s cold out here.”
She turned at the sound of his voice, hugged her coat tighter when he stepped closer. Too close. “Lucas, I need to speak with you.”
He took hold of her hand, held firm when she attempted to pull away. “Does it hurt?”
“Hurt?” she repeated mindlessly. His fingers were long, callused, warm over her own.
He turned her palm up, circled the rough pad of his thumb over the sensitive, smooth flesh. “You cut yourself today. On the broken cup.”
“A scratch, that’s all.” Every nerve in her palm and up her arm came alive at Lucas’s touch. Unable to stop herself, she trembled.
“You’re freezing. Come inside.”
She shook her head, pulled her hand away. “This won’t take long. I just have to—”
“Julianna.” He frowned darkly. “Unless you’re planning to throw yourself off this balcony in a supreme sacrifice for your father, get inside now.”
She almost laughed at the absurdity of his statement, but under the circumstances, thought it best to simply do as he asked. No, she corrected, brushing past him into the living area of the suite. As he’d demanded.
She jumped when he moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.
“Just taking your coat.” He tightened his hold, then added, “For now.”
Bristling, she held on to her coat. “I’m not staying.”
“Oh, but you are.” His hands stayed on her shoulders. “I insist.”
She knew it would be useless to argue, that he would probably only enjoy it if she did. She let him take her coat, then stepped away. The wonderful scent of oregano and basil filled the room, but her stomach only clenched at the smell of food. “Your dinner will get cold”
“Shall I order you something?” He tossed her coat over a barstool. “The food is excellent here. Especially the shrimp Alfredo and the chicken Madeira.”
She wondered how he would know that. He’d only been here since this afternoon. Long enough to turn her world upside down and inside out. “No, thank you. I have to get back.”
“When I say, Julianna. Now sit.” He gestured to the chair across from his plate. “You might not be hungry, but I’m starving. Chianti?”
Even as she shook her head, he poured her a glass of wine and pressed it into her hands. “Sit.”
Powerless to stop the humiliation, she took the chair at the farthest end of the glass dining room table. It would do no good to tell him that her father had been raging and half drunk when she’d left, that if he discovered she was gone, he’d only be more furious. And if he’d found out she’d come here...
She didn’t want to think about it. She’d deal with that later.
Lucas lifted the metal dome covering a china plate, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. Steak, baked potato, herbed vegetables. “Sure you won’t have a bite? Filet, medium rare.”
“You surprise me, Lucas,” she said without thinking. “I would have thought raw was more to your taste.”
He raised a brow, smiled slowly. “Well, well, Miss Hadley. There is still a little fight in you. But you didn’t come here to irritate me, did you? So why don’t you tell me why you did come here?”
Dammit. How could she be so stupid? The last thing she wanted to do was irritate him. Along with her pride, she took a swallow of wine. They both burned all the way down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I... it’s the land. The five acres and house by the creek.”
“What about it?” He cut into his steak, hefted a good bite into his mouth.
“That property is mine.” She struggled to keep the desperation out of her voice. “It was my grandparents‘, then my mother’s. She left it to me after she died last year.”
“I already told you. Your father’s name was on the title, not yours. Along with the Double H, he signed it over as collateral to First Financial.”
“But he can’t do that.” This time it was impossible to keep the emotion out of her words. “It’s mine, Lucas. You can’t just take it.”
“Why can’t I?” He reached for his own wine, kept his eyes on hers as he lifted the glass. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“It’s useless to you. The roof leaks, the paint is nonexistent, the plumbing and electricity need repair.”
“Exactly why I plan to tear it down.”
“No.” She felt the blood drain from her face. “Let me buy it back from you.”
He leaned back in his chair, studied her carefully. “I know every intimate detail of the Hadley finances. You don’t have a checking or savings account in your own name, no credit cards. You do own a six-yearold sedan. Are you planning on selling that as collateral?”
“I’ll get the money.” Embarrassed that he knew so much about her dependency on her father, and because she thought she might explode if she sat any longer, she stood and moved to the bar, keeping her back to him as she struggled to compose herself.
“Why is it so important to you?” he asked.
Could she give him that kind of ammunition? Tell him that the house was the only loving memory she had, the only tangible proof of something that had been good in her life? Would he laugh at her, throw it back in her face? He must hate her as much as her father. His revenge would be complete, wouldn’t it, if he destroyed not only Mason Hadley, but his daughter, as well.
What did it matter if he laughed? she thought. If he threw it back at her? She had nothing to lose. He couldn’t do anything worse to her than take her house away.
She stared at her own reflection in the mirror over the bar, hated the despair she saw in her own eyes. “My father and mother lived in a small house in town after they were married. My grandparents owned all the Double H land then, and they lived in the house by the creek. My father was always gone on business, but my mother and I used to visit my grandparents almost every day. We’d work in the garden, plant flowers in the front yard, vegetables in the back.” She ran a finger over the rim of the crystal wine glass still in her hand. “I used to fish in the creek with my grandfather. My grandmother baked bread and chocolate chip cookies.”
She couldn’t bear to look at Lucas. Knew that if she did, if she saw disdain there, she’d crumble for certain. She’d started this, and she would finish. “My grandparents had both died by the time I was eight. My mother inherited all the Double H land, along with the ranch my grandfather started and a great deal of money, but the house and five acres was put in trust for me. My father was so busy spending my grandparents’ money building his new house, he let mine deteriorate.”
“Why didn’t your mother keep it up?” Lucas asked dryly.
“She tried, but my father had control of the money then. They argued about it often.” It seemed useless to point out that any argument with her father was futile. “After her car accident when I was thirteen, my mother was never the same. She never went out anymore, had very little interaction with anyone. I tried to keep my grandparents’ house up myself, but it was impossible.”
Her father had made sure of that. He’d hated her grandparents’ house as much as she’d hated the cold mansion he’d built. Up until his investments had turned sour the past two years, her father had been the richest man in Wolf River. He’d had power and prestige. He’d made certain that no one would hire her, and no one would work on her house if they wanted to stay in business.
“Nothing’s impossible if you want it bad enough, Julianna.”
She started at his whispered comment She hadn’t realized he’d moved so close behind her. And still, she couldn’t turn and face him, couldn’t stand to see the pity or disgust in his eyes.
“Name your price, Lucas. I’ll get the money.”
“Where will you get the money?” He touched one finger to the back of her neck, made a lazy circle. “A rich boyfriend, maybe? I know there’ve been no husbands, but certainly there have been lovers, men appreciative of your... charms.”
His touch burned through the cotton knit of her sweater. Her knees turned soft; she had to concentrate to keep each breath steady and even. “How much?”
His finger skimmed her neck, gently up, then down again. “Why have there been no husbands, I wonder? Too attached to leave Daddy?”
She stiffened, whirled to face him. Immediately realized what a mistake she’d made with him standing so close. Their bodies touched, front to front, and he made no move to back off.
“So there is heat under that cold exterior,” he said thoughtfully, keeping his dark gaze on her. “And there is something you care about.”
How could he not know? she thought frantically. How could he be so blind? Her heart pounded in her chest, in her head. “Dammit, name your price.”
“All right.” He brought his hand to her face, softly ran his knuckle over her cheek. “The price is you. I want you to marry me.”
Three
His words shocked him as much as they had obviously shocked her. He watched her face turn ashen, felt her body go still against his. For a long moment it even seemed as though she’d stopped breathing.
“What did you say?” she whispered.
He could simply laugh now, tell her he’d gotten the response from her he’d been looking for. sheer terror. That he’d wanted to rattle her perfect composure, shake up her cool self-control.
Instead, he smiled and tucked a loose strand of silken blond hair behind her ear. She winced at his touch, as if he’d scorched her.
“You want something from me.” He let his finger skim her earlobe, then move down her neck. “Maybe I want something from you, too.”
Color flushed her pale cheeks. “You don’t have to marry me for that.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not talking about sex.” He leaned in closer. “Though, if we did marry, I would certainly expect that. In fact—” he watched her eyelids flutter as he brought his lips close to her ear “—I would insist on it.”
“You’ve ruined my father.” Her voice shook. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Mason Hadley manipulated paperwork to steal my father’s ranch, shot him, then had him falsely sent to prison where he died. Tell me what’s enough. How much will it take before that wrong is made right?”
Her eyes opened wide now in understanding. “And you’d use me to complete your revenge? Saddle yourself with a woman who would only remind you of that pain every day?”
“It’s your father who will be reminded every day,” he said harshly. “I’ll have his land and his daughter. And a man would hardly consider himself saddled to a woman with your looks, sweetheart. In fact, you could be quite an asset.”
He watched her close her eyes tightly, as if she were trying to shut out the horror of it all. He should feel extreme satisfaction at her obvious distaste of marriage to him, but he felt a cold rage instead. He could almost hear her thoughts. How dare the lowly half-breed propose marriage to a woman of her stature. How appalling. He could still hear her words to him this afternoon when he’d bent to help her pick up the broken coffee cup in her father’s office. Keep away from me, Lucas.
Remembering those words, he leaned in even closer to her. “It might not be awful,” he said huskily. “Women say I know how to please. I bet I could even please you.”
He brushed his lips over hers—barely a whisper of a touch—felt and heard her soft intake of breath. He lingered there a moment, surprised that she didn’t jerk away, that she didn’t raise her hand to slap his face. Even more surprised at the shudder he felt move through her body. Was it repulsion, he wondered, or desire? Either way, his own body responded instantly. He curled his hands around her arms, brought her up against him, a mixture of anger and longing raging through him. He could take her right here, right now. She’d let him, he was certain of that
Thunder shook the windows, and Julianna’s eyes opened wide. He saw the confusion there, the fear and something else, something he couldn’t name. A second crack of thunder brought him back to reality, and he released her.
She fell back against the bar, steadied herself as she drew in a long, slow breath. “I still don’t understand, Lucas. You wouldn’t have to marry me. You could just...I mean, I could...”
“Be my mistress?” he finished for her.
She nodded. “I would think that would be more convenient for you.”
“Let’s just call this a long-term investment. One that includes children.”
“Children?” she gasped. “You want me to have a child with you?”
He struggled to control his anger over the shocked tone in her voice. “I want a family, and their mother will be my wife, not my mistress. Though I see-no reason not to have both.” He smiled tightly, cupped her chin in his hand. “But make no mistake, Julianna. You will not be given that privilege. You will be mine, and mine alone.”
“And love, Lucas?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “What about love?”
He laughed dryly, shook his head. “Love is a fairy tale, sweetheart. We won’t be riding into any sunsets or spouting happily-ever-afters. You’ll take care of our home, raise our children—if there are any—and you’ll have your house.”
Her breathing quickened; he could see her mind racing. “But your business,” she argued, “you work in Dallas.”
“As soon as you’re settled here, I’ll spend most of my time there. I’m sure you won’t object to that.” He traced the delicate line of her jaw. “But don’t worry, I’ll be back to check up on you, just so you don’t get too lonely. So what’s your answer?”
What was her answer?
Dare she let him see that he’d just offered her more than she could have ever dreamed? Marriage, her grandparents’ house. Children. Dear God. Her chest tightened with the thought.
She’d never truly considered marriage or children while her mother was alive. Caring for her had been full-time, and Julianna had known that if she’d left, her father would have sent her mother to a home. Some place where no one would care about her or love her.
But during that time when she’d been looking after her mother, she’d never loved any of the men she’d occasionally gone out with.
Not like she’d loved Lucas.
What a laugh that would be for him, to know that she loved him. She’d only been nine when she’d watched him stand up to her father, watched him bravely keep his head high, even as he was taken off to the County Home for Boys. She’d always respected his honesty, admired his courage. He’d never given a damn what anyone thought, except maybe Nick Santos and Ian Shawnessy, his best friends. His only friends. Which was still two more than she’d ever had. She’d watched them together from afar, always envied their friendship.
She’d been a coward her entire life, had always been afraid to stand up for herself. Would she be afraid now, afraid to say yes, when that was what she really wanted?
But making her happy was certainly not part of Lucas’s revenge. She couldn’t let him know how much she wanted this, how much she wanted to be his wife, the mother of his children, even without love. To have her house and children, that would be happiness enough for her.
She breathed deeply, held his dark gaze. “Will you put it in writing, that the house will be mine after we marry?”
“As long as you accept my conditions, the house will be in both our names.” He touched her cheek, though gently this time. “And there’ll be no divorce, Julianna. Don’t even think about it. Till death do us part.”
Outside, the storm continued to rage. And here, inside, with Lucas, her heart pounding, her knees shaking, Julianna drew strength from a place deep within her that she’d never even known existed.
“All right, Lucas,” she said, her voice steady and clear. “I’ll marry you.”
Three days later, at four in the afternoon, Lucas stood shoulder to shoulder with Julianna in the Wolf River courthouse. Nick Santos, who’d arrived on his motorcycle only an hour earlier in a ground-trembling display of shiny chrome and black leather, stood to Lucas’s right. Judge Martin Winters, the white-haired, bushy-browed justice of the peace, frowned darkly through the entire ceremony, his hostility aimed directly at Lucas.
Lucas kept his gaze firmly on the judge, repeating back to him the vows of marriage. What the hell did the old man think? Lucas wondered irritably. That Julianna would be starved or beaten? He hadn’t put a gun to her head. She was here of her own free will, had willingly agreed to all the medical tests and signed the marriage license.
He glanced at her now, watched as her trembling lips echoed the words that would bind her to him forever. Her hand was like ice when he slipped a ring on her finger. When she stumbled over “love and honor,” Judge Winters scowled, then sighed and proclaimed them man and wife with an enthusiasm that equaled a jailer slamming the cell door on a prisoner.
Her face was as white as her simple suit, her hair swept up and pinned primly in a French roll. Small diamond studs sparkled at her earlobes. He’d expected her to wear black, but then, he’d never really believed she would show up at all.
Julianna Hadley was now Julianna Blackhawk.
He turned to kiss her, ignoring the sniffle from Mrs. Talbot, the matronly court secretary who’d been Julianna’s witness. He vaguely remembered the woman, recalled her hair had been brown twenty years ago, not gray. She’d been kind to him the night he’d been arrested at Hadley’s mansion and led handcuffed into the jail. Lucas was certain the woman remembered him, as well, and wondered if her sniffle was one of joy for the newlyweds or misery.
He pressed his lips to Julianna’s, was surprised that she didn’t turn away from him. Her eyes fluttered closed, then opened slowly when he moved away.
“Out of the way, Blackhawk.” Nick shouldered Lucas aside. “It’s time for the best man—and I do mean that in every way—to kiss the bride.”
Julianna uttered a small shriek as Nick swept her off her feet, twirled her, then plastered his mouth to hers. Lucas sighed, shaking his head as he stepped in to save his new bride. He’d known that he’d have to tolerate a certain amount of nonsense when he’d called Nick and asked him to stand up for him. Ian should have been here, too, but, as was often the case, it had been impossible to track him down.
“That’s enough, lover boy.” Lucas tapped Nick on the shoulder. Nick mumbled something, but kept his mouth firmly secured to Julianna’s. Judge Winters’s frown deepened, and the court secretary’s eyes opened wide.
Strangely disturbed by his friend’s antics, Lucas took hold of Nick’s collar and yanked. Julianna stumbled backward, her hand pressed to her mouth.
“Get your own woman, Santos,” Lucas said tightly, surprised at the sharp tone in his voice.
Nick beamed. “Just being brotherly, Lucas. We’re family now.”
Lucas started to tell Nick exactly what he’d do to him if he was any more brotherly when the door to the judge’s chambers burst open.
Face red, eyes crazed, Mason Hadley exploded into the room.
Julianna couldn’t move. One moment she’d been caught in an amorous, though playful, embrace by Nick Santos, the next moment her father was flying at her.
“So this is what you’ve been sneaking around for these past three days,” he yelled. “So you could marry this no-good half-breed. You ungrateful bitch.”
She froze, watched him come at her, hand raised, expression furious. The hard slap stung, sent her reeling backward. She thought she might have cried out, but wasn’t certain. And then everything happened so fast. She heard a roar, a wild, savage growl, and suddenly Lucas had her father pinned against the office wall. Nick moved beside her, steadied her with his arm while he murmured something gentle. She felt Nick’s tension, his anger, but it was Lucas she couldn’t take her eyes off. Lucas, whose expression of fury terrified her.
“Lucas, please,” she managed, though her voice shook. “Please, let him go.”
She thought that he hadn’t heard her, or her plea meant nothing to him, but after a moment he loosened his hold and let her father slump back against the wall.
“You touch my wife again and I’ll kill you,” Lucas said with dead calm.
Mason looked at the judge, who stood by, his face solemn. “Did you hear that, Martin? He threatened me. I want this man arrested.”
Mrs. Talbot, who’d run out the side door when Mason had come storming into the judge’s chambers, hurried back in with a deputy at her side. The judge nodded to the officer. “Karl, escort this man out, please.”
Julianna gasped when the deputy moved toward Lucas.
“Not him,” Judge Winters said with disgust. “Mr. Hadley.”
Mason’s jaw dropped open. “How dare you! You’d still be shuffling papers in that flea-bitten law firm you started in, if it weren’t for me and my influence. I’ll have you impeached, Martin.”
“If he gives you any trouble, Karl,” the judge said, leveling his angry gaze on Mason, “lock him up.”
Mason shook off the deputy’s hand, then straightened his jacket and glared first at Julianna, then Lucas. “We’re not finished, Blackhawk.”
“As a matter of fact, we’re not,” Lucas said tightly. “You’re still living in my house. If you’re not out by the morning, I’ll enforce my court order and have you thrown out.”
A vein bulged at Mason’s temple, then he turned and stormed out of the room with the deputy right behind. There was a long, tense moment before anyone spoke.
“Well.” Mrs. Talbot pushed her glasses up on her nose.
“Yes, well,” Judge Winters repeated.
Julianna sagged against Nick.
Lucas moved in front of her, his gaze sweeping across her face. His hands tightened into fists. “Are you all right?”
She wanted to crumble, to fall into his arms and weep. She did none of those things. Instead, she straightened, squared her shoulders and met his cold stare. “I’m fine.”
He nodded stiffly, but said nothing. Tension coiled in the room.
“Well, okay, then,” Nick said at last and slipped an arm around Julianna and Lucas. “Let’s say we go celebrate.”
The best restaurant in Wolf River was Adagio’s in the Four Winds Hotel. Reservations were booked weeks in advance, but the maître d‘ greeted Lucas warmly, then showed them to a table already set for three without so much as a question. Champagne chilled in a silver bucket and crystal flutes shimmered in candlelight. Pale pink roses dressed the center of the table.
So lovely, Julianna thought.
Looking at everything—the champagne, the flowers, the candles—it almost felt like a real celebration. Obviously Lucas had told the maître d‘ it was a wedding dinner, she assumed for appearances, but she had no idea what Lucas had told Nick Santos. The truth? Would he be that cruel? she wondered. Would they have a good laugh over the whole business, throw back a few drinks and gloat in their male superiority?
She’d been surprised when Nick had shown up for the ceremony. But then, she and Lucas had barely communicated over the past three days. She’d been busy packing what few things she’d wanted to take with her, and had come into town only once to apply for the marriage license and tests. Lucas had left a message for her with the clerk, telling her what time to be at the courthouse. That had been the extent of their premarital relationship. She hadn’t told anyone about their marriage, and most certainly not her father.
She had no idea how he’d found out. Most likely someone in the courthouse had seen her come in today with Lucas and called. Everyone in town knew her and her father. Just as they all knew that Lucas Blackhawk was back and that he had ruined Mason Hadley.
She felt the eyes on her and Lucas as they settled into the corner booth. Everyone was watching, waiting to report even the tiniest detail of the town’s newest, and most scandalous, couple.
The maître d‘ poured three glasses of champagne, and Nick raised his glass in a hearty salute. “To the newlyweds,” he said loud enough to turn the heads that weren’t already watching. “May your days be filled with love, your nights with passion.”
She nearly choked. Cheeks hot, she looked at Lucas. He was watching her, a hungry look in his eyes, a half smile on his lips. When he raised his glass to her, she knew he was taunting her.
Her wedding night. Dear God.
She downed the glass in nearly one gulp.
When Nick refilled her glass, Lucas frowned and leaned in close. “Easy, darling. You wouldn’t want to get a headache, now, would you?”
His hot breath fanned over her ear, and she shivered at the thrill that ran through her. She wouldn’t think about later. She couldn’t. She’d never make it through this dinner if she did.
“And now, by proxy, a toast from Killian Shawnessy.” Nick cleared his throat. “May you never forget what-is worth remembering, or remember what-is best forgotten.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow, but sipped from his glass. “You’ve heard from Ian?”
“Unreachable,” Nick replied, and at the look exchanged between the two men, Julianna had the feeling that “unreachable” meant more than it implied.
In high school, Lucas Blackhawk, Nick Santos and Ian Shawnessy were the bad-boy threesome. Other girls whispered and giggled about just how “good” they were at being “bad.” Not that Julianna had ever been included in those conversations. Her shyness and her father’s money had always set her apart. She’d never fit in anywhere, with anyone. Nor had she tried. She’d chosen a cool facade, a casual dismissal of her peers, to protect herself from the cruel snubs and sly looks. The Ice Princess, she’d been called, as often to her face as behind her back. And every time, it hurt as deeply, as painfully, as the time before.
And speaking of bad memories from high school, Julianna thought miserably, here came two right now. MaryAnn Johnson and Stephanie Roberts. They’d both been married and divorced. Stephanie twice.
Hips swaying, smiles dazzling, they brazenly sidled up to the table. “Why, hello, Julianna, long time no see.” They never even bothered to look at her. “And if it isn’t Lucas Blackhawk and Nick Santos. What a sight for sore eyes. Heard you’re driving a Ferrari, Lucas, and you, Nick, a famous motorcycle racer. What in the world brings you boys back to Wolf River?”
Stephanie and MaryAnn were all but licking their shiny red lips.
Nick smiled brightly. “Toasting the newlyweds.”
Both women’s mouths fell open. This time they did look at Julianna, their eyes wide.
“You and Lucas?” MaryAnn sputtered.
Julianna’s heart stopped. How perfectly this would fit into Lucas’s plan. Public rejection and humiliation. She held her breath, waited...
He slipped an arm around her, pulled her close and nuzzled her cheek. “Thought I’d never get her to say yes. Wonders never cease, do they, sweetheart?”
She stared at him, too stunned to speak.
“Show them that little rock on your finger, Julianna.” Nick leaned back m his seat, obviously enjoying the entertainment.
Stephanie and MaryAnn zeroed in on Julianna’s hand, their gazes like zoom lenses. Only proper upbringing and their need to display indifference, kept them from drooling.
With no other choice, Julianna held out her hand. She’d been too nervous during the ceremony to really look at the ring he’d slipped on her finger. The diamond was huge, she realized, and the cluster of smaller diamonds surrounding it were exquisite.
Appearances again, she realized, and as beautiful as the ring was, it only reminded her of the lie she’d committed herself to. The ring meant nothing more to Lucas than she did. They were both assets to him, long-term investments. That’s what he’d told her.

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