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Million Dollar Marriage
Maggie Shayne
A dedicated doctor struggling to raise money for a much-needed community health clinic, Lucinda Brightwater is beginning to feel as though time is her enemy. Besides the clinic, she desperately wants a child, but how likely is that for a single thirty-four-year-old who works long hours–with no man on the horizon?So when a man who's hard to resist makes her an offer that's hard to refuse, Lucinda agrees to marry Holden Fortune for one million dollars. The notorious bachelor needs a "respectable" wife in order to claim his inheritance. Lucinda needs her clinic. The terms?One year. In name only. No strings. No strings, maybe, but there's a lot of heat, making it hard for cooler heads to prevail, especially since it appears Lucinda's other dream is now on its way….




THE TEXAS TATTLER

All the news that’s barely fit to print!

Baby Bryan Fortune Kidnapped!
Town of Red Rock, Texas, shaken to its bedrock.
The cooing heir to the Fortune empire was snatched from his nursery in the sprawling Double Crown Ranch mansion last evening during the infant’s christening celebration. Late breaking reports indicate that Matthew and Claudia Fortune, baby Bryan’s parents, are frantic and eager for leads. The Texas governor pledges his support to one of the Lone Star State’s richest families.
Red Rock’s and San Antonio’s finest are on the case, but inside sources reveal that their official “no comment” means “baffled and clueless.” Is this heinous crime a desperate ploy for money…or revenge? Police are investigating all persons suspected of having a vendetta against the Fortune clan. Now, that’s a long list….
And another enticing Fortune tidbit: sources in the know reveal that infamous bachelor Holden Fortune must wed a respectable lady as a condition of inheriting a dime of dear old daddy’s legacy. Is it a mere coincidence, then, that earlier this week the reputed playboy was spotted escorting Dr. Lucinda Brightwater—dressed in a stunning white suit—up the courthouse stairs? When questioned, Holden said he was “fixing a traffic ticket.” For what? Excessive speeding…to the altar?!

About the Author


MAGGIE SHAYNE,
a USA TODAY bestselling author whom Romantic Times calls “brilliantly inventive,” has written more than twenty-five novels for Silhouette Books.
Maggie has won numerous awards, including two Romantic Times Career Achievement Awards. A five-time finalist for the Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA® Award, Maggie also writes mainstream contemporary fantasy and romantic suspense for MIRA Books, and has contributed story lines to network daytime soap operas.
She lives in rural Otselic, New York, with her husband, Rick, with whom she shares five beautiful daughters, two English bulldogs and two grandchildren.

Million Dollar Marriage
Maggie Shayne


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)








Meet the Fortunes of Texas

Holden Fortune: The high-powered executive doesn’t want to settle down. But he would do anything to secure his inheritance, including proposing marriage to a beautiful baby doctor….
Lucinda Brightwater: The lovely lady’s biological clock is ticking louder with each bundle of joy she delivers. She can think of only one way to make her own baby dream come true—seduce her convenient husband….
Ryan Fortune: Beloved patriarch of the Fortune family of Texas. When fate brings his lost love back into his life, Ryan vows not to let anything stop him from claiming Lily Cassidy as his bride…not even what proves to be the most scandalous divorce of the decade.
Vanessa Fortune: When her precious nephew is kidnapped, she is determined to help with the search. Will she be able to reunite baby Bryan with his parents, and can her own romance be far away…?

Contents
Prologue (#ucf2bdb2f-ab5b-513c-a897-b8ff609b23e7)
Chapter One (#u4f4dcd43-ecfe-54c6-96d5-72daa40c51a5)
Chapter Two (#u4a4b8117-93eb-5427-b45a-0fe7d31dbf90)
Chapter Three (#u9b5d8dd2-61fc-50a5-a1ce-32f9bfb72ae6)
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)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue
Red Rock High School
Valentine’s Day Dance, 1983
Holden Fortune was the man of her dreams. But he’d never give a girl like her a second glance. Lucinda Brightwater sat in a chair near the wall where it was dim and shadowy. She didn’t usually come to school dances. She didn’t know why she’d bothered coming to this one, unless it was just to torture herself, which was precisely what she was doing.
He was dancing now, his current girlfriend, Tiffany Lambert, wrapped tight in his arms as he moved her slowly around the floor. The glittering globe overhead reflected flashes of light on his honey-blond hair. He was so handsome, so athletic, so popular—easily the most popular boy in school, and that was only partially because he came from one of the richest families in Texas. Lucinda had loved him since fifth grade. But he’d barely noticed her.
She was plain. Her straight, dark hair wouldn’t do anything but hang there, no matter how she cut or sprayed or styled it. She wasn’t allowed to wear more than a hint of makeup, and if she’d tried dressing in the half tops and short skirts that were popular with the “in crowd,” her father would have gone into cardiac arrest. Besides all that, she was too smart. All brains and no beauty. A nerd. A geek.
Tiffany, on the other hand, was bleached to a sunshiny shade of blond and her hair was always perfect. Layers on the sides, fluffed up high on the top. Her skirts were short and flouncy, and she probably didn’t even own a shirt that came down as far as her navel. She wore several bracelets on each arm, huge gold earrings that shook when she moved, and enough makeup to sink a small ship. She knew how to send sidelong glances Holden’s way, how to giggle, how to flirt. All the things Lucinda had never been any good at. Oh, Tiffany was failing most of her classes, but Holden didn’t seem to care much about her grades. Lucinda knew perfectly well that Tiffany was well educated in…other areas. She was not an inexperienced virgin like Lucinda.
The music died down, and the couples on the floor parted and moved toward the sides of the decorated school gym, or toward the punch bowl, or sneaked off toward the exits hoping for a chance to slip outside, unseen by the chaperones.
Holden and Tiffany, however, stayed where they were. She was looking up at him, speaking very quickly, and then he was saying something back to her. He looked upset. Tiffany shook her head hard, side to side, earrings jangling. She turned away. Holden gripped her arm to pull her back, and she hauled off and slapped him. Hard.
Lucinda sucked in a loud gasp, jumping to her feet, a reflex action she didn’t even think about first. Tiffany stormed away from poor Holden without a backward glance, and Holden, looking wounded and shocked, stared after her. Then, a moment later, he seemed to shake himself. Turning away, he wandered off in the opposite direction, and vanished into a crowd.
Lucinda just stood there for a long time, hoping he’d emerge again. She was going to go over to him, ask him if he was okay. She would. She’d just drum up all of her courage and talk to him. She couldn’t believe Tiffany would break up with him that way, in front of half the school. No girl in her right mind would treat a guy like Holden that way. Lucinda certainly wouldn’t. If he were hers… She sighed and closed her eyes. Who was she kidding? It would never happen. Guys like Holden didn’t date girls like Lucinda. She might as well accept that and forget about him. In a few months he’d graduate, head off to college, and she’d probably never see him again.
Holden was good and pissed. It wasn’t enough that Tiffany Lambert had to be the first girl in history to ever dump him before he got around to dumping her, but she had to do it in front of everyone. And she’d slapped him!
He was furious when he stalked off into a corner, but the guys quickly surrounded him, slapping his shoulder and saying things like, “Who needs her anyway?” and “Hell, Holden, you can have any girl you want. What do you care?”
He agreed with all those sentiments, of course. And the liquor helped. Billy Martin had smuggled a bottle of Seagram’s into the gym, and he opened his coat to give Holden a peek. Holden nodded, and then they all sauntered off to the boys’ bathroom and passed the bottle around.
The more Holden drank, the angrier he got. And by the time he and the other boys staggered back into the gym, carefully avoiding any sharp-eyed chaperones, he was feeling the need for vengeance. Tiffany was standing in the corner talking to a bunch of her friends, most of whom Holden had slept with. He decided to make her jealous, remind her she wasn’t the only girl on the planet.
He scanned the chairs that lined the gym walls for a suitable dance partner, and then froze when his gaze fell on pretty little Lucinda Brightwater. His throat went dry. He licked his lips. Lucinda was…different. Quiet. Shy. Very deep and very intelligent. She wasn’t the kind of girl a guy like Holden should get himself involved with. She was not a giggling teen out for a good time. She was a lady. She reminded Holden a lot of his own mother, with her quiet grace and soft-spoken dignity.
And he reminded himself of his father. How many times had his dad told him how alike they were? Called him a chip off the old block? They even looked alike. And Cameron changed mistresses almost monthly, while Mary Ellen, Holden’s mother, somehow managed to forgive him every time. She was the saddest person Holden knew.
No. He didn’t belong with girls like Lucinda Brightwater. Nice girls. Sweet girls. Girls who would let him break their fragile hearts. He had convinced himself of that a long time ago. He’d stick to shallow, loose girls out for a good time, girls who wouldn’t take things too seriously. Girls who wouldn’t get hurt. Like Tiffany Lambert.
But tonight, he was drunk. And he was stinging from that slap and the public humiliation that went with it. And he was itching to show Tiffany that he didn’t need her, that he could have a real lady. One Tiffany could never measure up to. A flawless white rose of a girl almost too good to be touched.
Holden sucked in a breath, and managed to walk without staggering over to where Lucinda sat. Her raven hair hung over her shoulders, straight and gleaming. Dark eyes widened at his approach, and rose to stare into his. And her copper-toned skin seemed as smooth as satin.
“Would you dance with me, Lucy?” he asked. So far as he knew, no one ever called her Lucy. He thought of her that way, though. Secretly, he thought of her as Lucinda in the Sky. The only girl he knew who was completely beyond his reach, out of his league.
She nodded slowly, eyes dark and mysterious. Getting to her feet, she stepped closer to him. Holden put his arms around her waist and pulled her toward him. Not quite touching, not yet. Even with as much as he’d had to drink, he didn’t forget that she was a lady. Her hands linked together at the base of Holden’s neck, and she moved her feet with his.
“Are you all right?” she asked him.
He looked down at her, nodded once. “You saw what happened, huh?”
“Everyone did.” She bit her lower lip. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Tiffany’s not.” He stumbled a little and pulled Lucy closer. Expecting her to pull away at once, Holden was a little surprised when instead, she hesitated, then lowered her head to his shoulder.
Her hair smelled good. He slid his arms more completely around her waist.
“So, is that why you’re dancing with me, Holden?” she asked softly. “To make Tiffany jealous?”
He frowned down at her, then stumbled again, would have fallen if she hadn’t held him, steadied him.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” Leaning up so close he thought she was going to kiss him, she sniffed instead. “You are. I can smell it on you. I should have known.” Taking herself out of his arms, she turned to walk away.
But then she stopped and faced him again. “You brought your car, didn’t you? The one your father gave you for your eighteenth birthday?”
He smiled slowly. So she wanted to ride in his Vette, did she? Somehow he hadn’t thought the car would hold the same appeal to a girl like Lucy that it did to the party girls he usually dated. But he was suddenly very glad. “Sure I did,” he said.
Lucy sighed, shaking her head. “There’s no way you can drive home. Come on. I’ll take you in my mom’s car, and you can come back for yours in the morning. Sober.”
Holden frowned, totally confused. “You don’t want to ride in the Vette?”
“I could care less about the Vette. I would feel pretty bad, though, if I got up in the morning and heard that you’d wrapped it around a pole and got yourself killed.”
“You would, huh?”
She looked away from him, and when she looked back her eyes were wider. “Crabtree is coming over here. Act sober for heaven’s sake!”
Holden plastered his most sober expression on his face, folded his arms and leaned back, thinking the wall would support him. Only there was nothing to lean back on, so he fell flat on his ass.
Ms. Crabtree glared down at him. “Have you been drinking again, Mr. Fortune?” Her hands went to her hips and she tapped her foot.
“Drinking? Who, me? No way…I wouldn’t even—”
“I can smell it from here, young man.” Ms. Crabtree shook her head. “I guess I’m going to have to call your father to come and get you. He won’t be amused by this latest example of your reckless behavior, Holden.”
“Ms. Crabtree, it isn’t Holden’s fault,” Lucy said quickly.
Crabtree looked at her, then frowned hard. No teacher in the history of the world had ever doubted a word Lucinda Brightwater said. They all seemed to think she was some kind of angel. She kept talking, and Holden thought maybe he agreed with them.
“Someone spiked the punch,” she went on. “Holden didn’t know about it until he’d already had several glasses.”
Crabtree’s face went from cold to wary. “Are you sure about this, Lucinda?”
“Positive. I—I heard someone talking about it in the girls’ room.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see who, and it wasn’t a voice I knew.”
Crabtree eyed the punch bowl, and her look changed again, to one of alarm. “Oh, my.”
“I didn’t have any of the punch, Ms. Crabtree,” Lucy went on. “And I’ll drive Holden home. There’s no need to call his father. He’d only blame you and the school for this anyway.”
The teacher looked up sharply, as if she hadn’t thought of that before, and then seemed thoughtful. “Are you sure you didn’t have any of the punch, dear?”
“I wouldn’t think of driving if I had, Ms. Crabtree,” she said, sounding like a saint.
“Of course you wouldn’t. All right, then. Get him home, and I’ll dump the punch down the drain and make a fresh batch.” She walked away muttering that she’d have to check every single student who planned to drive tonight before letting them leave.
Holden was still sitting on the gym floor. When Lucy reached down to help him up, he took her hand and let her, giving her a crooked smile. “I owe you one, Lucinda in the Sky.”
“Yeah,” she said. “You do.”
She felt so nervous she could barely keep her mom’s car on the road as she drove Holden toward his home. He wouldn’t invite her inside. She knew he wouldn’t. She would die if he did. But he wouldn’t.
The place was a mansion. Tall and stately. So elegant with its pristine white paint, gleaming black shutters, and two-story porch spanning the entire front of the place, its columns stretching from top to bottom. It was almost…presidential. In a very Texas kind of way.
She pulled into the paved, curving driveway. No lights glowed from inside the house, only outdoor lights shone. Twin rows of them, lining either side of the sidewalk from driveway to front porch. And more, gleaming from around back.
“Come in for a minute?” Holden asked.
Oh, God, he did ask. His voice was slurred and she knew better than to accept. She really did.
“Okay,” she said. She got out of the car and Holden took her arm. She wasn’t sure if he took it because he wanted to touch her, or because he needed to hold on for balance. But either way, they walked together up the sidewalk, toward the porch and the front door.
“Holden, your parents… Don’t you think you ought to go in the back way or something? If they see you like this…”
“They’re out,” he told her. “See? Dad’s Caddy isn’t here. There was some charity thing. Won’t be home for hours. And the kids—Logan and Eden—are spending the night at Uncle Ryan’s.”
“Oh.” Her throat was suddenly dry.
Holden led her across the wide porch, dug for a key under the doormat, and unlocked the massive doors. They were double, with stained-glass insets in a fan pattern, and complemented on either side by rectangular glass windows as tall as the doors themselves.
Opening one of the doors, Holden pulled her inside. “See? I told you.” He looked around the dark foyer, shrugged. “No one’s here. Come on.”
“Wh-where are we going?”
“My room.”
“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” she said.
Holden smiled in the darkness, and reached for a light switch. “Fine. The living room?”
When he flicked the lights on, things seemed less frightening to her.
“That would be better.” She relaxed and followed Holden along the massive foyer and through a wide, arching doorway into the living room. He promptly collapsed on a huge leather sofa that smelled so rich she couldn’t believe it. She sat down carefully beside him.
“I see you around school a lot,” he said, leaning his head back on the sofa, closing his eyes. “At football practice, or in the cafeteria. In the halls sometimes. Near my locker.”
She shrugged, and felt her face heat.
“You like me, don’t you, Lucy?”
When she didn’t answer, he opened his eyes, sat up a little.
“Don’t look so surprised. What, did you think I hadn’t noticed?”
“You never seem to notice me,” she replied, then bit her lip.
“God, you’re so stiff. Sit back, Lucy. Relax a little.”
Taking a deep breath, she leaned back, only to find his arm now encircled her shoulders. “It’s okay, you know. I like you, too. Always have.”
“You…you do?”
He smiled crookedly. And the next thing she knew he was turning her toward him, bending close, and kissing her. His kiss was wet and insistent; his tongue sloppy when he began sliding it in and out of her mouth. Was this the way it was supposed to be? He tasted like whatever sort of liquor he’d been drinking. Smelled like it, too. And within a moment, his hand was under her sweater, inside her bra, closing over her breast.
She pushed him away. “Holden…stop.”
Sitting up, blinking down at her, he stared for a long time. Then he shook his head. “Sorry. I…don’t know what I was thinking. You’re not that kind of girl.” He pressed a hand to his forehead as if trying to squeeze some sense into it. “I know better than to act like that with you.”
It was, she realized, her moment of truth. One of the most defining moments of her life. She was seventeen years old, and a virgin. And here was her chance to change that…with the only boy she would ever want in that way. The one chance she’d dreamed about, waited for. She would be Holden Fortune’s girl. He’d drive her to school, walk her to classes, sit with her at lunch, take her to dances…maybe even give her his class ring, something he hadn’t done with any of his other girlfriends.
She would never treat him the way they had. Never.
“Holden,” she said.
He lifted his head, bleary-eyed and unfocused.
“I could be that kind of girl…for you.”
His smile was slow and slightly crooked. “No, you couldn’t…”
She leaned up and pressed her lips to his again. This time when he put his tongue in her mouth, she touched it with hers. And when his hand slipped under her sweater she pressed herself against its touch.
Lifting his head away, his voice gruff, he whispered, “Let’s…let’s go up to my room.” He held out a hand. She got up, helped him to his feet, and then, with effort, up the stairs.
He started kissing her again before they even stumbled through his bedroom door. She fell backward, Holden still wrapped around her, and landed on the bed. It was fast, brief, messy, and not at all what she had expected. All so clinical. He didn’t hug her or hold her, caress her or kiss her. He shoved her panties down, and pushed up her skirt. Didn’t even take off his jeans. Just lowered them and—did it. It hurt at first, and then the pain eased, and it was all over.
But…it couldn’t be. Surely there was more to sex than…than that.
Holden lay on top of her, very still, breathing deeply and steadily. Lucinda shook him. “Holden?” He didn’t respond and tears welled up in her eyes. “Holden, please…”
He grumbled and rolled off her. A glance at his face made her realize that he was out cold, and no amount of shaking or pleading would wake him up. She dragged the stained sheet out from under him, wrapped herself in it, snatched up her clothes and ran into the bathroom attached to his bedroom, slamming the door behind her. It had been awful. Embarrassing, humiliating, and awful.
She cried for a few minutes. Then told herself to stop it. She’d wanted this. And…and it was worth it. Maybe. After all, being Holden Fortune’s girlfriend was all she’d dreamed about for a long time now. Well, almost all. She dreamed about being a doctor, too, ever since her mom died five years ago. Now, one of those dreams…had come true. Taking a breath, sighing deeply, she dried her tears, and turned on the water. By the time she got herself cleaned up and dressed, she was feeling a little bit better about what had happened between her and Holden tonight. There had been no tenderness…but that was only because he’d been drinking. Tomorrow, everything would be different. Tomorrow…
She crept back into the bedroom and bent over him to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Holden Fortune,” she whispered. “I’ll love you forever.” Then she hurried through the huge house, back to the front door, all without meeting anyone, and drove home floating on a cloud. So what if it was a rather dark, ominous-looking cloud? It would look brighter tomorrow.
Holden didn’t call in the morning to offer her a ride to school. She’d expected him to, but she battled the disappointment by telling herself he might be sick from all that liquor and was maybe just sleeping it off.
But when she got off the bus at school, she looked up to see Holden’s shiny red Corvette pulling in. Both doors opened at once. Holden hopped out of one door, smiling. Tiffany Lambert came out the other door. They met in the front, and Holden put his arm around her.
Lucinda just stood there on the sidewalk, staring until there was too much moisture in her eyes to see through as the two of them walked toward her, arm in arm. She couldn’t move. The pain in her chest was too big, choking her. She could barely even breathe.
“Hey, Lucy,” Holden said.
Lucinda blinked the stinging tears from her eyes. She wanted to run. But instead she just stood there and said, “Hi.”
“Thanks for the ride home last night. You really pulled my fat out of the fire.”
“No problem,” she managed to choke out.
“I hope I wasn’t an idiot.”
She only frowned at him, not sure what to say, how to act.
“I mean, I was pretty wasted. I don’t remember a damn thing after getting into the car.”
She blinked, and rasped, “You…you don’t?”
“Total blackout,” he said. “Anyway, thanks. If you ever need a favor, you know who to ask, okay?”
She lowered her head as fresh tears came flooding from nowhere. “Yeah. Sure.”
“Come on, Holden. You promised me a doughnut in the cafeteria before homeroom,” Tiffany teased in that voice of hers that could make even the most mundane statement sound like a come-on. And then the two walked away.
Just walked away.
Lucinda ran for the nearest girls’ room, where she threw up. Then she just sank down onto the floor, pulled her knees to her chest, and cried.
She was still there when the school nurse came looking an hour later. She spent the rest of that day at home in bed, wondering if she would ever recover from the mess Holden Fortune had made of her heart.
It was several weeks later when she realized the damage Holden had done had not been to her heart alone. When she collapsed in agonizing pain and was rushed to the hospital, bleeding uncontrollably. When she awoke from emergency surgery, sore and groggy and confused. When the doctor told her the pregnancy had been ectopic—that the fetus had been growing in her fallopian tube, and the tube had ruptured. That one of her ovaries had had to be removed to save her life. That her chances of conceiving a child in the future were cut in half.
She lay there in the hospital bed, in pain, afraid, and for the most part, alone. Oh, her father was there, but he’d been distant since her mother had died. He asked no questions, demanded no explanations. Just stayed by her side, looking heartbroken.
And all the while, Lucinda thought, Holden was out there somewhere, driving around in his expensive car with his pretty girlfriend, spending his father’s money as if there were no tomorrow. That night with him had changed her life forever. But he was so wrapped up in himself that he didn’t even know it. He didn’t even remember….
She would hate Holden Fortune for as long as she lived.

One
The Fortune Family’s Double Crown Ranch, June 1999
Everyone was here for the party. Holden, looking angry about something—and without a woman on his arm for once. He must really be out of sorts. Matthew and Claudia, beaming with pride over their child. And why not? Bryan Fortune was lucky, born into billions, with half the county here to celebrate his christening. Even that snooty OB-GYN who’d delivered him was here. Lucinda whatever her name was.
Maria Cassidy used the back door. “The servants’ entrance,” though the phony Fortune family would never be heard referring to it that way. It was how they thought of it, though. Oh, they put on a good show. But that’s all it was. A show. The way the Fortune men had used Maria’s mother, Lily, and then tossed her aside was proof of that. The way Ryan Fortune was still using her. But Ryan’s guise as the kindly patriarch didn’t fool Maria. Nor did his claim to be madly in love with her mother. If he’d loved her, he would never have dumped her thirty years ago, leaving her alone and pregnant.
He’d fathered Maria’s brother, Cole. Him, or that philandering brother of his, Cameron. Maria couldn’t be certain. Her mother refused to say exactly what had happened when she’d worked in the Fortunes’ household as a girl. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Ryan, whom she’d “found again” after thirty years. None of the Fortunes knew about the crown-shaped birthmark Maria’s brother bore, identifying him clearly as one of their own. And Cole said he didn’t care.
But Maria cared. Part of the Fortunes’ wealth rightfully belonged to her family. To her mother for years of suffering and silence. To her brother who’d been denied his share. Cameron and Ryan Fortune were to blame, she was certain, for her family being cut out. But Cameron was already dead, and burning in hell if there was any justice in the world. And Ryan…he would soon be in a hell of his own, a hell of Maria’s creation. And his whole rich family would be there with him.
Maria clutched the tiny bundle in her arms closer, jiggling him gently as she slipped past the kitchen unnoticed. Little James was blessedly quiet. Good. She didn’t want to spoil her surprise by giving it away too soon. In the kitchen, that witch housekeeper, Rosita Perez, made enough noise to cover any James might make anyway. Barking orders to the staff as if she were one of the Fortunes. She’d never liked Maria. Always acted superior, even though she was just a glorified maid. Chief cook and bottle washer to the great Fortune clan. Had been forever, even thirty years ago when Maria’s mother had worked in this very house, in that very kitchen. And one year ago, when Maria had done the same.
Just like her mother, Maria had managed to sleep with a couple of Fortune males. Unlike her mother, she’d had a motive…to bear a Fortune child of her own and claim what her entire family should have claimed long ago. A fair share. And though Maria’s attempts had been unsuccessful at first, she’d found a way. Unorthodox, perhaps, but a way all the same. Just like her mother, Maria Cassidy had given birth to a Fortune child. Little James bore the distinctive, hereditary crown-shaped birthmark on the small of his back. Just like Maria’s brother, Cole.
That part of her plan was complete. This was the next step. Maria intended to tell the whole world who had fathered her child, and claim what was rightfully hers. A piece of the Fortune pie. A big piece.
She slipped through the old pantry to the back stairs and went up them, knowing every inch of this estate by heart. The nursery was at the end of the hall, and that was where Maria headed, on tiptoe, careful not to be seen.
When she stepped into the lavish nursery, she grimaced. ¡Dios! That Ryan’s grandchild Bryan should have all this while her own son had nothing! While her own brother had worked his tail off for everything he’d ever achieved. While her own mother had gone without all these years….
The crib at the farthest end of the nursery was hand-tooled light oak, and probably worth a bundle. The walls had been elaborately decorated with bright colors, and building blocks and teddy bears. The rocking chair was an antique. And the bassinet… God, the bassinet…
Maria went to it and ran her hands over the gleaming wood. It wasn’t a piece of furniture. It was a work of art. “This is where you belong, James,” she whispered to her son as she laid him gently inside it. “That’s right, darling. Sleep. Just sleep. Mamma will be back for you when the moment is right.” Bending closer, she kissed her son’s silken cheek, then straightened, and stepped back into the hall, closing the door softly behind her.
She paused there, took a breath, and wondered briefly if she were making a mistake. But no. This was right. She had to do something. She couldn’t let her mother go on sleeping with Ryan Fortune, believing that he loved her, believing that he would divorce that barracuda wife of his and marry Lily. He wouldn’t. He’d leave her high and dry…just like before. He still hadn’t acknowledged Cole as a Fortune. If he loved Lily, he would at least have owned up to having fathered her firstborn. Because even though Lily had never told him, he must at least suspect the truth. The man could add, couldn’t he? Lily had given birth to Cole only eight months after running away from the Double Crown Ranch—only seven months after marrying Maria’s father, big, gentle Chester Cassidy.
Well, Ryan Fortune would acknowledge James as his grandson. Maria would force him to.
It was the perfect setting for her revelation. A lavish, no-holds-barred christening party for Matthew’s child, Ryan’s grandchild, Bryan Fortune. But this whole clan would soon find out that they had another child to celebrate. Maria’s child. James.
And he was here to take his rightful place in the world. Her son was a Fortune. And he would not be denied!
Holden Fortune was not amused. His uncle Ryan had paraded no less than a dozen “nice young ladies” past him tonight in a thinly veiled effort at match-making that was doomed to failure. He’d just introduced yet another; a petite little thing that reminded Holden of a mouse. Holden’s brisk greeting had sent her skittering off in search of someone friendlier. Uncle Ryan was scowling at him in a fairly good impersonation of Heston’s scowling at Brynner in The Ten Commandments.
“I don’t understand you, Holden. We all know you like women—”
“Ever the king of understatement,” Holden remarked dryly, taking another sip of bourbon and branch.
“So, what’s the problem? Every girl I’ve brought over here has been attractive, and nice and—”
“I don’t want attractive and nice, Uncle Ryan. I want drop-dead gorgeous and very, very naughty. Especially tonight. ‘Nice’ just isn’t gonna cut it tonight.”
Around him were more people than he’d seen at the last cattlemen’s convention. Two-thirds of them family. All the colorful Mexican rugs had been rolled back and the double patio doors thrown wide. The crowd spilled out into the courtyard where Rosita had piled food on tables and Matthew manned the barbecue pit. The smells were damned mouthwatering. Yet Holden had no appetite.
“You’re going to have to stop this,” Ryan ordered in his head-honcho tone.
“Stop what?”
“You know damned well what. Holden you are not your father. You don’t need to go through life trying to live up to his reputation as a playboy. You can settle down, find a good woman, make a life—”
“Yeah, dear ol’ Daddy made sure I would, didn’t he? Went so far as to write it into an ironclad will that I can’t inherit my fair share until I do.”
Ryan nodded solemnly. “And just why do you think my brother did that, Holden?”
Holden shrugged. “Because he was a bastard?”
Ryan lowered his head quickly, probably to hide a hint of amusement. “I like to think my brother realized the error of his ways, in the end. I like to think he wrote those conditions into his will so his firstborn son wouldn’t make the same mistakes he did.”
Holden sighed deeply and shook his head. “Therein lies the problem, Uncle Ryan. If I marry some decent woman, I will be doing just that. Repeating my father’s mistakes. Ruining a good woman’s life by tying her to me. For God’s sake, look at my mother.”
Ryan did. He glanced up, scanned the crowd. Holden followed his gaze and found Mary Ellen Fortune standing alone, a drink in her hand, staring up at the portrait of her dead husband. Fifty-six, and still a knockout. She’d kept her figure. Her red hair didn’t have a streak of gray in it, and since Cameron’s death, she’d even had it cut into a more modern style that bobbed just above her shoulders and moved when she did.
“She was wasted on him,” Holden said. “He made her miserable. And I wouldn’t want to follow in his footsteps by making some other good woman equally unhappy. Unfortunately, unless I do, I don’t inherit a dime.”
Ryan looked back at Holden again. “Your lawyers…”
“I spoke to them an hour ago. It’s over. The judge upheld the will as is. No more appeals, no more contesting it. It’s over.”
Ryan sighed deeply. “I’m sorry, Holden.”
“Yeah. So am I.” Holden took a long pull from his glass.
“But just because your father was a womanizing louse, doesn’t mean you have to be.”
“Too late, Uncle Ryan. I already am.” He glanced up at his father’s portrait. The golden boy looked down at him. His smile seemed to Holden almost mocking. Blond hair, blue eyes, clean-cut, all-American, rich SOB. It was like looking into a mirror. Holden lifted his glass in mock salute. “You win, Dad.” Then he downed the contents. As he did, he spotted exactly what he’d been looking for. Someone he could take home, take to bed, and ravage in every possible way until he got this will stuff out of his system.
She was standing near the barbecue pit, talking to Matthew and his wife Claudia. Her back was to Holden, but he could see enough. She was…exquisite. Jet hair, so black it seemed almost blue in the slanting afternoon sun. So smooth…like satin. He’d bet her eyes were dark, too. Ebon, and slanted. Native American eyes, to go with that bronze skin. Slender, yeah, with just the right curves to her. She was hot. Dressed to hide it, sure. Forest-green silk suit. But that skirt was short, and tight, and her legs looked as if they never ended. She’d be a wild woman in bed.
“Now there’s someone I’d like to meet,” he muttered to Ryan, and when his uncle didn’t answer, Holden turned to see he’d lost Ryan’s attention. It had been stolen the second Lily Cassidy had entered the room. As usual, Uncle Ryan only had eyes for the dark beauty who’d captured his heart thirty years ago, and only recently come back into his life. Lily’s heart was in her eyes as she crossed the room and Ryan took her hands. If anyone in the world deserved to be happy, it was those two. Holden wished for the millionth time that Sophia would just agree to the divorce and set his uncle free. Everyone knew it was the money she’d been after all along.
With a sigh, he returned his attention to the other dark beauty, the one out in the courtyard with his cousin the doctor. He supposed he ought to be grateful for at least one of his father’s traits—he’d never yet met a woman who would tell him no. And from the looks of her, he didn’t expect this one to be the first. Holden exchanged his empty glass for a full one at the portable bar set up in the great room, and sauntered out through the wide-open patio doors to the pit where Matthew tended the ribs. He pretended great interest in the cooking process, all the while keeping one eye on the lucky woman he’d chosen to ease his misery tonight. “Anything I can do, cousin?”
“Hand me that platter. This batch is done.”
Holden snagged the platter and held it obediently as Matthew began piling ribs on it. The smell was heavenly. But Holden was more interested in watching the two women—Claudia, Matthew’s wife, and that hot little number she was talking to. She’d turned a little as he’d come out. He still couldn’t get a good look at her face. The platter grew heavier in his hand. “So, Claudia, where’s the guest of honor? Not sleeping through his own party, is he?”
Claudia glanced his way with a smile. She and Matthew had never seemed happier. His cousin had something—something Holden would never have. A wife who adored him. A family. A future. Holden felt a flash of envy and a hint of self-pity. He squelched both.
“That’s exactly what he’s doing,” Claudia said. “All the excitement of the christening wore him right out.”
The darker one looked his way. He caught her eye, but she quickly averted her face. There was something familiar about her. “You…haven’t introduced me to your friend.”
Matthew suppressed a chuckle. Claudia just shook her head. “Oh, come on, Holden. You know Lucinda.” At Holden’s blank look she went on. “Lucinda Brightwater? From high school?”
And then, even as he blinked in shock, the woman spoke.
“I’m afraid I never made that much of an impression on your cousin, Claudia,” she said, her voice slightly chilly. Yet deep and rich, like warmed honey. At last, she faced him.
Holden caught his breath. But this knockout couldn’t possibly be that untouchable, pristine, painfully shy girl he remembered. “Lucy Brightwater?” he asked, failing to hide his surprise.
She lifted her dark brows. “The one and only.” She started to turn away. “I think I see someone I know. If you’ll excuse me.”
“Hold on a minute!” Holden automatically moved closer, gripping her arm lightly. “Hey, it’s been years. Give a guy a break, huh?”
She looked at him, her gaze icy, before it dipped to his hand on her arm. Her message was clear.
He let go immediately. And the beautiful woman walked away. Lowering his chin, Holden sighed. “She sure grew up touchy. Gorgeous, though.”
“She’s not your type,” Claudia said. “As I recall, you made that fact painfully obvious to her back in school.”
He knew she was right, but he’d be damned if he’d admit it. “Shoot, if she’d looked like that back in school—”
“I think that’s the point, cousin,” Matthew volunteered. “You’re tipping the platter.”
Holden straightened the platter and a rib fell off. Shaking her head, Claudia came forward and took the dish from him. Holden eyed her. “Besides, I don’t remember being nasty to her in high school. At least, not enough to merit that icy reception.” Anyway, he’d had his reasons for steering clear of Lucy back then. Reasons…that all still existed. So why didn’t he just drop it? Why was he still watching her weave her way through the crowded great room? Why was he still running off at the mouth? “I always admired her. She…reminded me of Mom in some odd way.”
“She had a huge crush on you back then, Holden.”
“That’s right… That’s right. I used to see her hanging around at practice sometimes, watching me.” He remembered more than that, too. He remembered that he’d decided she was far too good for the likes of him. She probably still was.
“I suppose thoroughly ignoring a girl who’s not up to your standards is something you do so often you’re barely conscious of it anymore,” Claudia said.
Ignoring her, Holden stared across the crowded room to where Lucy Brightwater was now chatting with Ryan and Lily. She looked a bit like Lily. Same dark coloring, same dramatic black eyes. Damn, no wonder Ryan had been in love with Lily for thirty-some-odd years. A woman like that…
“I’m sure as hell not ignoring her now,” he heard himself mutter.
“Well, you sure as hell ought to be,” Claudia snapped. “Leave her alone, Holden. She’s not a one-night-stand kind of woman.”
“No. No, I remember that about her. She was always pretty…” He shook his head. “Man, she sure grew into her looks.”
“There’s a lot more to Lucinda Brightwater than the way she looks. As there is with most women, not that you’ve ever bothered to look any deeper than the surface.”
Holden shrugged. “Fine. You want to start listing her stellar qualities, go ahead. I’m listening.” And interested, he thought. In fact, he was dying to know what Lucinda in the Sky Brightwater had been up to all these years.
Claudia narrowed her eyes at him, then shrugged. “Fine, I will. Lucinda is kind, compassionate and caring. She’s intelligent and accomplished and sensitive, and a casual fling with a man like you could do a lot of damage to a woman like her. Leave her alone, Holden.”
As she turned and strode away to set the heaping platter on a table, Holden sent a confused glance at his cousin. “You’d think I was the devil himself, the way she acts.”
“Some might say you are,” Matthew said. “Claudia’s a little protective of Lucinda. They got pretty close during the pregnancy and all.”
Holden tilted his head, lifted a brow.
“Lucinda is Claudia’s doctor. Works over at Red Rock General.”
Holden blinked. “She’s a doctor?” He looked her way once more. Damn, she didn’t look like any doctor he’d ever seen. “Maybe it’s time I make an appointment. I must be overdue for a physical…or something.” He was only half kidding.
“Hey, I’m offended! I thought I was your favorite doctor. Besides, you’d never get in to see Lucinda…you don’t have the right equipment.” Matthew grinned at Holden’s puzzled expression. “She’s an OB-GYN.” Matthew said. “She delivered Bryan. And she and Claudia sort of…bonded.”
“That’s the Dr. Brightwater Claudia was always talking about,” Holden said as a lightbulb finally flashed on in his mind. He hadn’t made the connection until now.
“The one and only,” Matthew said, echoing Lucinda’s earlier words. “And she’s not the kind of woman who would enjoy being judged on the basis of her looks.”
“Then she shouldn’t go around looking like that,” Holden said.
“Give it up, cousin. You don’t stand a chance with her. Go find some bimbo to charm into your love nest. That woman is out of your league.”
Holden finished his drink in a gulp and set down the empty glass. “Yeah. That’s pretty much what I always thought, too. But that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to her, does it?”
Mistake, his mind cautioned him. Big, big mistake.
“I’m sorry, Claudia.” Lucinda Brightwater was still a bit shaky. She hadn’t wanted to come to this party. No, that wasn’t true. She had wanted to come. For Claudia and Matthew. For little Bryan. What she hadn’t wanted was to run into Holden Fortune. The man who had taken her virginity one drunken night so long ago she should have been over it long before now. A night that had meant everything to her. A night with repercussions that were still resonating through her life.
A night that had obviously meant less than nothing to him.
She was not an awkward teenager anymore. She was not the too smart, too tall, too skinny girl who didn’t quite fit in. And she certainly wasn’t the same girl who’d been heart-and-soul in love with the most popular boy in school. A boy who hadn’t so much as returned her shy hello when they’d passed in the halls. She was a doctor now. She’d grown into her body and become comfortable, even confident, with her looks.
So how could a brief encounter with Holden Fortune reduce her once again to a quivering mass of nerve endings, all of which seemed to be standing on end? She’d told herself that if she ran into him she would feel nothing but coldness—and a bit of her long-time resentment for the mess he’d made of her life so long ago.
Instead, she felt so many emotions she couldn’t name them all. Anger, shame…and still a hint of that old attraction to a man who was never anything but bad for her. Poison.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Claudia said softly. “My husband’s cousin puts on a good show, Lucinda, but he’s truly not as bad as he seems.”
“You’re forgetting,” Lucinda said with a slightly wry look, “I knew him in high school.”
Claudia tilted her head. “Did…something happen between you and Holden back then?”
“What a crazy question!” Lucinda averted her gaze. “Why on earth would you ask me something like that?”
“Well, you seem awfully…angry with him over something. And it has been a long time….”
Lucinda nodded. “You’re right, it has, and my mood really doesn’t have a thing to do with Holden.” It was a lie, but not entirely. She’d been feeling like hell for weeks now. She’d get the results of her ultrasound test tomorrow, and she was dreading what she’d hear. She had a pretty fair idea about what was going on with her body.
“I probably shouldn’t have taken it out on him,” she said, but she didn’t mean it.
“What is bothering you, Lucinda?”
She shook her head. “Oh, the usual. You know, with every baby I deliver it seems I hear my biological clock ticking louder than before.”
Claudia smiled. “Got that urge, huh?”
“I’ve had that urge for some time now. And my time’s running out.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re only…”
“Thirty-four,” she said, lowering her eyes to hide the fear she knew she couldn’t hide. “And then there’s the clinic.”
“Still can’t get the funding, huh?”
Lucinda shook her head. “Health care for lower income women around here is practically nonexistent. And my big plans to change that state of things don’t seem to be going anywhere.”
“I don’t see why you won’t just let Matthew and I back you.”
“I need several backers, not just one. The amount I need to get this clinic up and running is too much to expect one person to give. And taking money from friends—especially the kind of money we’re talking about here—is never a good idea, Claudia. You know how I feel about that. Besides, the Fortunes aren’t the only wealthy family in Texas. I want to do this on my own. I just have to convince the local bigshots to open up their pockets for a good cause.”
“Just know you can count on us if you need to,” Claudia said.
Lucinda nodded and squeezed her friend’s hand. “I do know. And I’m grateful.”
“Come on,” Claudia said, tugging Lucinda toward the back of the room and the wide, curving staircase. “Let’s go up and see if Bryan’s ready to make his big entrance.”
“Hey, hold on a minute. We’ll come with you,” a voice called from behind.
Lucinda stiffened, because it was Holden’s voice. The voice that could still send delicious shivers up her spine yet make her want to claw his eyes out all at the same time. She turned, fixing a false smile onto her face as Holden and Matthew joined them at the foot of the stairs.
Maria had been quietly observing all of them, watching the women parade around in their expensive clothes, perfect hair, glamorous nails and real jewels. Watching the men, who watched the women. Rich bastards, all of them. When it looked as if the party was in full swing, and most of the guests had arrived, Maria slipped away again, up to the nursery to collect James. It was time for the big announcement. Time to watch them all pale with shock when they realized that she had mothered one of their own. That she wouldn’t be content to be merely tolerated or seen as a former servant, or as the daughter of Ryan Fortune’s whore. No. She’d be one of them now.
She slipped into the nursery, and leaned over the bassinet, cooing softly. Then she went still, because all that lay inside was the rumpled, down-soft blanket, and a large sheet of paper.
“James?” she whispered. What…
A soft gurgling noise made her turn her head sharply toward the massive crib at the far end of the room. That was it. Someone must have moved the baby. She quickly went to the crib, only to stop dead again. It wasn’t James staring up at her with wide, baby-blue eyes and a toothless, dribbly smile. It was Bryan. Matthew’s legitimate son.
Oh, God, where was James?
Her heart in her throat, Maria rushed back to the bassinet. Only then did she begin to panic. That sheet of paper seemed to stare up at her, daring her to look at it, to read what it said.
With the tip of a fingernail, she lifted the top fold.
We have taken Bryan Fortune. He will be returned unharmed, as soon as you have delivered fifty million dollars in cash.
“Fifty million…” Maria whispered. Kidnapped! Her son—her James—had been kidnapped! Mistaken for Bryan Fortune. Whoever had done this probably hadn’t even noticed the other baby in the crib across the room. Maria hadn’t when she’d first come in.
Fifty million dollars. Who would give fifty million dollars for an illegitimate little boy like James? Not the Fortune family. Even if they knew he was one of their own, even if Maria could somehow prove it to them…no, because James’s appearance in this family would throw their golden lives into chaos. They’d never pay. They’d let the kidnappers sell him or…or worse.
Maria’s throat went dry as she backed away from the bassinet and the cruel reality that was forcing its way into her mind. There was no way to get her baby back. No way…
Her back touched the crib, and the other child inside it cooed and chirped at her. She turned.
What if the Fortunes believed that it was Bryan who’d been taken? No one knew James even existed. What if…
What if she took little Bryan…for just a little while? Just until the ransom was paid and James was safe again. Then she’d switch the babies back, make it all right. Somehow….
Somehow.
She bent over the crib, gathering Bryan Fortune into her arms. “You won’t mind so much, will you, little one? I’ll take good care of you, and you’ll be back with your mamma in no time at all. It’s not so much to ask, is it? To save my baby’s life?”
The baby smiled as if in response, and Maria wrapped him in a blanket and snuggled him close, smelling his baby smell as tears welled up in her eyes. “God, this all went so wrong…so wrong…”
She paused on the way out, licking her lips as she looked once more at the note in the bassinet. This had to look real, it had to be convincing. Cradling the baby close with one arm, she quickly picked up the note, using the edge of a receiving blanket to cover her fingers. No fingerprints. She mustn’t leave a trace. She carried the note to Bryan’s crib, dropped it inside, and hurried away before she could change her mind.

Two
As they walked up the stairs, Claudia and Matthew fell into step, side by side, hand in hand, leading the way. Leaving Lucinda to walk at Holden’s side. And the whole time, she swore he never took his eyes off her. She got the feeling he had some special X-ray vision that could see right through her clothes. Then again, that view was one he’d seen before—and it hadn’t made much of an impression on him then.
He certainly did seem to be paying attention now, though.
Men. She wished she could think like they did, feel like they did. All she wanted was a relationship that could develop into something…something like Claudia had with Matthew. She wanted a husband, a baby…
God, she wanted a baby so much….
But all her efforts at relationships had turned out in one of two ways. Either the man she was seeing wanted no commitment at all or he wanted too much of one. Mostly the latter. One man after another had bid her adios when it became apparent that she wasn’t willing to give up her practice, or her plans of building a clinic, to devote her full attention to him.
Maybe she didn’t need a man at all. Maybe all she needed was a willing sperm donor. A one-night stand.
“So, Lucy,” Holden said. “What are you doing after the party?”
She blinked at his interruption of her rather uncharacteristic and slightly shocking train of thought. She told herself not to imagine his gold-blond hair and sky-blue eyes on a little baby. The baby that she’d lost all those years ago—maybe the only baby she would ever have a part in creating. But she imagined it anyway, and an evil thought entered her mind. About poetic justice. About his potential as a sperm donor. It was totally unlike her to think of such things as trickery and deception. But where Holden Fortune was concerned, it did seem justified.
And she already knew he was fond of one-night stands. “Um, why do you ask?”
They’d reached the top of the stairs. Claudia and Matthew were already heading down the hall, but Holden stopped there, turning to face her. “I don’t know, really. I guess…I’d like to make up for being such a jerk to you in high school.”
She felt the blush creeping into her face. “So you do remember.”
“No, I really don’t. I mean, I remember you, but not the part about being a jerk. But Claudia says…” He stopped. “I said the wrong thing.”
Lucinda shook her head. For a moment she’d thought maybe that special, horrible, wonderful night hadn’t been erased from his mind almost before it had ended. But she’d been wrong. It had.
“Look, I drank a lot in high school,” he blurted, trying to explain his way out of an awkward moment.
“Dated a lot, too.”
“I wouldn’t call it dating.” He gave her a sheepish smile.
“You haven’t changed a bit, have you, Holden?”
“Sure I have. And to tell you the truth, I’m dying to know what I did to make you seem so…unfriendly now. Why don’t you have dinner with me tonight and we can…talk.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. Why not? If he wanted to wine her and dine her and take her to bed, why not go along with it? Maybe she’d get what she wanted out of the deal. A baby. Of her own, with no man and no strings attached. Lord knew, Holden wouldn’t be the type to demand joint custody. He couldn’t even commit to a steady girlfriend, much less a child. Hell, he might not even remember having fathered her baby after the fact.
“I just might take you up on that.”
He frowned at her, wondering at her tone, she was sure. She’d made the words sound as if they were more threat than promise. “Lucy, what in hell did I do to make you so mad at me after all this time?”
Before she could even begin to formulate an answer, a heart-wrenching scream echoed through the house. Lucinda turned her head sharply. “That came from the nursery!” she said, and a second later she and Holden were running full-tilt.
Holden forgot everything else when he lunged through the nursery door and saw Claudia sitting on the floor sobbing, a sheet of paper clutched in one trembling fist, while the other was pressed to her heart. The sight of her almost floored him. White. Deathly, sickly white. She looked as if something had just sucked every ounce of life from her body. Even her pale blond hair, usually wavy and full, seemed to hang limply around her petite face.
“No!” A fist smashed through the nursery wall, leaving a big hole in the plaster. Matthew swore and jerked his hand free, knuckles dusted white, skinned up and bleeding. “This isn’t happening!”
“My baby…oh, God, my baby,” Claudia wailed.
“The baby,” Lucinda whispered, rushing first to the bassinet just inside the door, and then across the room toward the crib, thoughts of SIDS—sudden infant death syndrome—foremost in her mind. “Is something wrong with the—” She froze at the crib. Then slowly turned wide eyes on Holden. “Where is Bryan?”
Claudia bowed double, her head in her lap, her shoulders shaking with violent sobs. Matthew strode toward the door. “Lock this place up, Holden,” he said, his voice coarse as cherry bark. “Nobody leaves. You hear me? Nobody leaves!”
“Dammit, Matthew, what’s going on here? Where the hell are you going?” Holden demanded, stepping into his cousin’s path.
But Matthew shoved past him, knocking Holden aside so hard his shoulder slammed into the wall. “To get the keys to Dad’s gun cabinet,” Matthew rasped, and hit the hall running.
Holden turned to give chase, then glanced back at Claudia on the floor, not sure who needed his help more right now.
Lucy knelt beside Claudia, nodded at him once to go ahead, then said, “Holden, wait.”
He turned to see that she’d pried that sheet of paper out of Claudia’s hand and was staring at it. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.
“What is it, Lucy?”
Lucinda lifted her stunned gaze to meet Holden’s. “It…it’s a ransom note. My God, Holden, the baby’s been kidnapped!”
He felt the shock as if someone had kicked him in the teeth. Then he shook it off. “I’ve gotta get hold of my cousin before he kills somebody.”
“Go on. I’ll take care of Claudia.” And she was. Even as Holden hesitated, half afraid to leave the petite blonde who looked as if she was on the verge of a breakdown, Lucinda spoke to her, got her to her feet. Anchoring Claudia to her side with a strength that surprised him, she looked up and nodded at Holden once more. “Go on.”
He went.
He hit the bottom of the stairs about the time he heard glass being smashed. He didn’t have to look to know the sound was coming from Ryan’s den, or the gun cabinet that took up most of one wall in that room. People were starting to look alarmed, furrowed brows turning his way. Holden banged into his brother on the way to the den.
“What the hell—”
“Logan. Listen, seal this place off. Don’t let anyone leave, you understand?”
“But—”
“Someone’s taken Bryan. Block every exit—”
“Bryan?” Logan looked stricken, his bronzed skin paling. One hand pushed through his sun-streaked brown hair.
Holden waved a hand in the air, signaling Matthew’s brothers, Zane and Dallas. As they surged toward him with worried frowns, Holden saw Rosita talking to her husband, Ruben, who was one of their most trusted ranch hands and almost as much a part of the family as Rosita was. Holden waved him over, as well. “Have the guys help you, Logan. I have to stop Matthew before he—”
A woman squealed and Holden turned to see Matthew come bursting into the great room with Ryan’s twelve-gauge Remington in his hands. Matthew’s eyes were wild, and he was waving that shotgun around in a way that made Holden hope to God it wasn’t loaded.
“Where is he!” Matthew demanded. “Give him to me now!”
“Matthew!” Holden surged forward, gripping his cousin’s shoulders, just as Uncle Ryan came from another direction to grab his shotgun away from his son. For a man his age, he was still in peak condition, and he didn’t have much trouble.
“What in the world has gotten into you, Matthew?” Ryan asked.
Matthew stared into his father’s eyes for a moment and then his face just collapsed. His body seemed damn close to following suit. He sank against Ryan, who suddenly wore a look of extreme fear as he put his arms around his son and held him hard. Ryan’s eyes met Holden’s over Matthew’s shuddering shoulders, a question in them.
“The baby’s been kidnapped,” Holden explained, only to see Ryan’s eyes fill with even more horror.
“God, no!” Then, shaking his head, he slapped his son’s back. “We’ll pay whatever they ask, son. Give them the whole damned spread and the company along with it. Everything, you hear me, boy? We’ll get Bryan back. I promise you. Whatever they want, they’ll have. Whatever it takes to get my grandson back here safe and sound.”
Ryan Fortune lowered his head. “And then…then, they’ll suffer like they’ve never suffered before. Whoever did this is going to pay, believe me.”
Lily gasped, hurrying forward, clutching Mary Ellen’s arm and pulling her along to Ryan’s side. Holden was certain both women had overheard what he’d said—apparently, at least enough to realize what had happened. A second later Holden’s mother broke away from Lily’s grip to head back into the crowded great room, but Lily kept coming.
Holden stepped away from Matthew when Lucy appeared at the bottom of the stairs and strode purposefully to his side. She didn’t hesitate, just stuck Matthew’s arm with a hypodermic, and even as Matthew jerked his head around to object, it was obvious to Holden he was starting to feel the effect.
Above it all, Holden heard his mother, taking charge. Ordering everyone to remain calm, to sit down, to keep order.
“I assure you all,” Mary Ellen said in her Lauren Bacall voice, “everything is under control. We’ll explain all of this in just a few moments, but for now, I’m afraid I have to ask that no one leave. A crime has been committed. I’ve just spoken with Sheriff Grayhawk. He’s on his way here now, and asks that everyone stay just until he gets here and has a chance to speak with each of you.”
The crowd quieted. People muttered, asked questions, but the panic seemed to ease. No one could see through Mary Ellen Fortune’s facade if she didn’t want them to. No one but Holden. He knew his mother better than anyone. She had to be falling apart inside. And yet she’d already contacted the sheriff and was in complete control. Emotions well hidden. Ever the perfect hostess. Living with his bastard of a father had certainly trained her well, hadn’t it?
He glanced at Lucy Brightwater, and felt a surge of misgiving. He shouldn’t have asked her out. She may look as if she’d changed, but a lady was a lady. And just because she no longer looked like the sensitive, vulnerable, fragile thing she’d been, didn’t mean she wasn’t.
“Your mother has everything under control here,” Lucinda said. “Help me get your cousin upstairs.”
“What about Claudia?” Holden hefted a wilting Matthew into his arms as he asked the question.
“I sedated her, too. She’s sleeping now. God, Holden, who could’ve done this?”
“I don’t know.” Holden looked behind him as he mounted the stairs, staring at the stunned, restless crowd. At his brother and cousins, guarding the doors like bulldogs. At Rosita, one hand on her heart and tears streaming from dark Mexican eyes down over her plump cheeks. She dabbed at them with her apron, while her husband stood near another door, watching her worriedly. Ryan clung to Lily and Lily to Ryan. And Mary Ellen held them all together. She was the rock of this family and always had been.
“You didn’t leave Claudia alone, did you?” Holden asked suddenly.
“Of course not,” Lucinda said. “Vanessa is with her.”
“Good.” He carried his cousin up the stairs. Matthew was still muttering, but semi-conscious now. Lucinda led the way, opened the bedroom door, and preceded Holden into it.
“Holden!” Vanessa was on her feet and flinging her arms around Holden’s neck almost before he could finish lowering Matthew to the bed.
Holden hugged his cousin, and then stepped back to brush away her tears and smooth her hair. “It’s gonna be okay, Vanessa.”
“When I find out who took my nephew, he’s going to be one hurting son of a—”
“That kind of talk isn’t going to help anyone right now,” Holden told her gently.
Vanessa sighed, and pushed a hand through her short, sassy hair. “Maybe not. But I mean it.” She leaned over the bed, smoothing her big brother’s hair. “Is Matthew okay?”
“He’s just sleeping,” Lucinda explained. “I had to sedate him.”
“I don’t know what I’d have done if you hadn’t been here, Lucinda. God, Claudia was so—”
“I’m just glad you happened to walk by the bedroom when you did. I couldn’t have handled her alone.”
Frowning, Holden looked at Lucy, then looked again. Her dark hair was tousled, and there was a scratch beading with red droplets across one cheek. He quickly rounded the bed that stood between them. He hadn’t got a glimpse of the scratch until now. He’d been behind her up the stairs, and before that his cousin’s dead weight in his arms had blocked his view. Only as he neared her now did he notice how messed up she was. Then he saw the lamp that was smashed to bits on the floor behind her, and the table lying on its side.
“My God, what happened?” He palmed her cheek, tipped her face up for a closer look.
“She got a little hysterical. It’s a perfectly normal reaction and I should have expected it.”
“You’re bleeding.” Holden snagged a tissue from the decorative box on the nearby dresser, and dabbed the blood away, very gently.
Lucinda rolled her eyes in a mimicry of sarcasm. “Which of us is the doctor, again?”
He offered her a small, shaky smile, and continued dabbing. “Right now, I am. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
She lowered her eyes, shook her head.
Holden thought maybe she was lying, but he didn’t press the issue. She was tougher than she looked, reminding him yet again of his mother, the way she’d jumped in and handled things without batting an eye. That calm, deliberate action. That core of strength that didn’t show until a crisis hit.
He liked her, he realized slowly. But then, he always had. She looked up, meeting his eyes, briskly taking the tissue from his hand. “We’d better get back downstairs.”
God, she was as shaken by Bryan’s abduction as he was. It showed in her eyes.
“No. We’ll stay here. Keep an eye on Matthew and Claudia.”
“But the sheriff…”
“Will know where to find us when he’s ready to talk to us.” He turned toward Vanessa, who was eyeing him oddly. “Go on down and let the family know where we are. And maybe bring Lucy up a drink if you get a chance.” His gaze went back to Lucy’s face. It was pale, and she looked shaky. “Brandy. Okay?”
“Sure, Holden.”
An hour later Lucinda sat in a large, cozy chair, as instructed. Holden dragged a footstool closer and, lifting her feet, propped them on it. She smiled at him for just a moment. Then closed her eyes, shook her head. “I shouldn’t be sleepy at a time like this.”
“It’s the aftermath of chaos. You’re emotionally drained. I feel the same way.”
“It’s like being in limbo. I keep thinking we should be doing something…”
“I know.”
“And I can’t remember the last time I got a full night’s sleep.”
“Me neither,” Holden said. He glanced at the big double bed where Claudia and Matthew were out cold, side by side. “I don’t imagine they’ll be getting too much, either. Until Bryan’s home where he belongs.”
“I’ll leave a prescription. They’re going to need something.”
“Claudia might take it. Matthew won’t.”
“You’re probably right.” Lucinda closed her eyes and let her head rest against the back of the chair.
Holden’s voice came from close by, and she realized he’d pulled his harder, less comfortable chair closer to hers. “So what’s been keeping you up nights, Doc?”
She didn’t open her eyes. “Babies tend to come at odd hours. And Braxton-Hicks is almost always nocturnal.”
“Braxton who?”
“False labor,” she said with a slight smile.
“Ah. Right. So it’s your patients keeping you awake nights, then.”
“Among other things.” She took a deep breath, sighed softly.
“Matthew mentioned something about a clinic you want to build.” Holden stopped, waiting for her to fill him in if she wanted to.
She saw no reason not to fill the tense hours of waiting with conversation, so she told him.
“The lower income women need a clinic,” she said. “Particularly the Mexican and Native American communities. There’s just nothing for them. I see them all the time. They wait until they’re too ill to wait any longer before they come in. Girls in their ninth month of pregnancy, coming in for their first obstetrical exam. Or worse, waiting until they’re in labor.” She shook her head slightly against the cushion that pillowed it. “It’s got to change.”
“And you’re going to be the one to change it.”
She nodded. “Just as soon as I can dig up a million dollars in funding, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Why you?”
Lucinda shrugged, not even sure if his eyes were open to see it. “They’re my people. I’m fortunate, so I have an obligation to give something back.”
“That makes some noble kind of sense, I suppose.”
“Glad you think so.” She didn’t like talking about herself or her clinic to someone like him. It felt too much like hinting around for a donation, so she quickly changed the subject. “What’s been keeping you awake nights, Holden Fortune? Too many visits to the salad bar at the babe buffet?”
When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes to see him staring at her, one eyebrow cocked. “‘Babe buffet’?”
“Sure. I’ve heard you have a different course every night and still haven’t managed to sample every dish in Texas.”
“Sheesh. My reputation is that bad, huh?”
“Worse,” she said.
“Well, it’ll probably surprise you to know I’m thinking about settling down. Getting married, even.”
Her eyes popped open wider and she sat up in the chair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. I’m dead serious.”
Something in her belly clenched just a little. “I…didn’t realize you were seeing anyone…special.”
“I’m not.”
“Then…then who’s this woman you’re planning to marry?”
Holden shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.”
She frowned at him. “Excuse me?”
He sent her a look of exasperation. “My father’s will came with a catch. I can’t inherit until I marry a—and I quote—‘woman of good reputation.”’
She tried to stifle a snort of disbelief, but it came out all the same.
“Yeah. I thought it was pretty unbelievable, too,” he said.
“Hell, Holden, what’s unbelievable is that any woman of good reputation would have you.”
He slanted a narrow gaze on her. “I’d take offense at that remark if it wasn’t the God’s honest truth.”
“At least you admit it.”
“So, you wouldn’t even consider it, huh?”
It was not a proposal. She knew that. It was sarcasm. But it still made her heart do an odd little flip-flop in her chest. “Not on your life,” she replied, her tone level.
He shrugged. “Hell, it was worth a try.” He sighed deeply, shaking his head. “So what would I have to do to make a woman of good reputation give me a shot, do you think?”
“Oh, come on. The greatest Romeo in Texas is asking me for advice on how to win a woman?”
“Well, yes. A real woman. I don’t need any help with bimbos, you know. Real women are a whole other breed.”
She tilted her head to one side. “At least you’re aware there’s a difference.”
“So?”
Lucinda leaned back again. “So…you’d have to change your ways, I suppose. Promise not to cheat. Real women, as you call them, are not fond of sharing.”
“It would be an effort, but I could give it a try.”
She rolled her eyes. “I imagine this woman you choose would have a lot of trouble with all the others you’ve had. You know, she’d probably believe you were constantly comparing her to them. You’d have to convince her she was…special. So special that the first time you were with her you forgot every other woman you ever had.”
Holden’s brows lowered. “That would be piling it on a bit, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. For you. I guess the most effective thing you could do would be to actually love the woman, but I suppose that’s beyond your…range, as well, hmm?” He only stared at her blankly. She sighed. “I thought so.” Then she shrugged. “I guess my best advice to you, Holden, is to make a business arrangement with some woman. Find one you think you might be able to stand for, uh, how long would you need to be married to inherit?”
“A year,” he said.
“A year, then. I’m sure some woman somewhere would be willing to play the part of happy bride for a year, then let you off the hook. For the right price, I mean.”
He nodded slowly. “So you think the only way I could get a decent woman to marry me would be to pay her?”
She shrugged. “It was just a thought.”
Soft footsteps outside made Lucinda look up. The door opened and Lily peered inside. “Holden, Sheriff Grayhawk would like to speak to you now.”
He glanced at Lucy, then at the two in the bed. “I don’t really want to leave you here alone,” he told her. “If they wake up again…”
“I’ll stay with her, Holden,” Lily said softly. Holden looked at her, looked at Lucy, lifted his brows.
“We’ll be fine,” Lucinda assured him. “The sedative shouldn’t wear off for hours anyway.”
“All right. If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
Holden started for the door, then paused. “Lucy…do me a favor and don’t leave for a while. I’d really like to continue this conversation.”
She shrugged. “If my beeper goes off, I don’t have much choice in the matter,” she said. “But I’ll hang around as long as I can.”
“Good,” he said, looking at her oddly. “Good.” He left the room and closed the door.

Three
“Do you mind if I give you some unsolicited advice?” Lily asked in her soft voice.
Lucinda sat back in her place, watching Claudia and Matthew closely, though she didn’t expect either of them to wake anytime soon. “Advice? About what?”
“About Holden.”
Lucinda blinked and quickly averted her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“I’m not blind, Lucinda. And you don’t have what I would call a…poker face.”
Lucinda shook her head slowly. “You’re imagining things, Lily.”
“Be careful with him,” she went on. “He’s trying very hard to be just like his father. And his father was…not a nice man.”
Lucinda’s brows went up. “You knew him well, then?”
“Cameron? I knew him. Thirty years ago when I first came here to work for the family. He and Ryan—they couldn’t have been more different. Cameron used women and threw them away.”
Lucinda tilted her head, facing Lily squarely. “And you think Holden is the same way?”
“I think Holden has reached a crossroads. Time will tell which path he chooses. But right now, he’s dangerous, Lucinda. Particularly to a woman who might be…vulnerable to him.”
Lucinda lifted her brows. “Well, I certainly don’t fall into that category.”
With a gentle smile, Lily said, “Good. He can’t hurt you, then.”
Taking a deep breath, thinking twice before she spoke and then deciding she had no reason not to, Lucinda said, “I thought it was Ryan you fell in love with way back then.”
“It was.”
“Then why do I get the feeling it was Cameron who broke your heart?”
Lily’s eyes widened slightly before she averted them. Lucinda’s beeper went off in her pocket and she grabbed for it quickly, shut it off, and looked toward the couple in the bed. But the sound hadn’t pierced their drug-induced sleep. Glancing down at the beeper, she saw a familiar number on the digital readout.
“It’s the hospital. I have to go. They wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t an emergency.”
Lily nodded. And she looked almost…relieved. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine here.” Lucinda glanced worriedly at Matthew and Claudia. “If you’re concerned,” Lily went on, “then send Ryan up on your way out.”
She nodded. “All right. I’ll do that. Tell Holden…” She paused as Lily’s brows went up. “Never mind,” Lucinda said, and she hurried out of the room.
It was a crazy thought. An utterly ridiculous idea. Ludicrous. But Holden couldn’t get it out of his mind. It lingered there. Even while his mother was opening up the doors to admit Sam Waterman, a private security consultant Uncle Ryan had used before. Even while Sheriff Wyatt Grayhawk filled Sam in and the two of them concluded their questioning of the guests and gave the last of them the okay to leave. Even while the local cops were checking the trunks and back seats of the cars one by one before letting them pass out through the front gates.
As soon as the sheriff and Sam finished questioning him, Holden headed back upstairs to Matthew and Claudia’s room. But when he burst through the door, he saw Uncle Ryan standing near the window, Lily wrapped in his arms.
They looked up when he entered, and Holden could see the tear tracks on Lily’s face. Less evident, but still visible, was the worry in his uncle Ryan’s. “How are they doing?” Holden asked, glancing toward the bed.
“Resting. I hate to think about what will happen when they wake.” Ryan shook his head. Holden nodded in full agreement and took another look around the room.
“She had to go back to the hospital,” Lily said.
He glanced at her sharply. “Who?”
Lily just scowled at him. “You know perfectly well who. Lucinda Brightwater.”
“Oh. Her.” Holden averted his eyes. He disliked Lily’s opinion of him, though he did nothing to discourage it. She seemed to agree with his own conclusion that he was too much like his old man to be trusted. Especially with nice girls…like Lucy.
“Has the sheriff learned anything new?” Ryan asked.
“No, not yet.” Holden looked at his cousin Matthew as he began to stir. “It’s still so soon. Look, something’s going to turn up.”
Matthew’s eyes opened. He looked around, disoriented, blinking. Then he closed his eyes tight again. “Oh, God, Bryan…”
“It’s all right, Matthew.” Lily rushed to the bedside.
“It’s not all right. God, my son—” Matthew sat up in the bed, his head in his hands.
Holden went to him. Moving Lily gently aside, he took Matthew by the shoulders. “Listen up, cousin.”
When Matthew didn’t respond, Holden gave him a shake. Lily started to protest but Ryan held up a hand and she went still. “Dammit, Matthew, listen to me. You have to pull yourself together. Look around here. Look at your wife, for God’s sake.”
Matthew looked sideways at Claudia. She lay curled in the fetal position, her eyes moving rapidly beneath lightly closed lids, her hair mussed, her breathing uneven and jerky.
“She’s gonna need you, Matthew. She’s gonna need you solid and strong. This thing could take some time, and it’s gonna be rough on her. You go falling apart, and she’ll never get through it, you understand me?”
Matthew lifted his head slowly, eyeing Holden. “Yeah. I understand.”
“No more smashing glass or swinging shotguns around like a lunatic, then.”
Matthew nodded. “What the hell do you suggest I do instead?”
“Wait,” Holden said. “Your father has Waterman and Grayhawk turning over every rock. The FBI is going to be getting involved, as well. There’s not a damn thing any of us can do beyond what’s already being done. At least not until the kidnappers make contact again to set up an exchange.”

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