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Married By Mistake!
Renee Roszel
The wedding pretense…When Lucy Crosby's ex-fiancé came to town, parading his new bride-to-be for all the world to see, she longed to wipe the smug smile off his face once and for all. But presenting the disturbingly attractive Jack Gallagher as her own new fiancé was definitely not what Lucy had in mind. Nor was undergoing a fake wedding ceremony–another of stepbrother Jack's bright ideas.His performance as her doting husband was certainly inspired–he even had Lucy half convinced he was in love with her. But had the whole pretense been a mistake? Because now that they were on their fake honeymoon, Lucy found herself suddenly wishing it was all for real!ENCHANTED BRIDES–Wanted: three dream husbands for three loving sisters."The D'Amour myth and an absolutely wonderful heroine make this story superb."–Rendezvous on To Marry a Stranger


“What if we got married?” (#ue58a0890-ee54-58f7-8df5-51bf1923a62d)ENCHANTED BRIDES (#ucc48dde5-296a-5257-9f46-8803f9ca6c15)About the Author (#ua9207103-e422-5e66-84e3-adbe25964565)Title Page (#u42dbe564-3ef6-5b07-a075-6dec551054cd)Dedication (#u43d357f7-b678-5d03-b0d2-a2aa8a45f682)CHAPTER ONE (#u52d2fabd-a2ac-541a-a85c-0701764d32e2)CHAPTER TWO (#u6d09ae83-90ac-5487-8bf0-36cf4c88ee19)CHAPTER THREE (#u18eace68-0d27-572f-bc58-faa709ad16e7)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)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“What if we got married?”
Pulling from Jack’s touch, Lucy could only stare at him. He shrugged at her lack of response. “Okay, maybe I don’t mean a real marriage. We can fake it. Get somebody to pretend to be a minister”
Feeling weak, Lucy attempted to dry swallow, and gawked at him as he lounged there on her bed, a very large, arresting presence in her small, drab room.
“Next Saturday night, then? You and me—holy wedlock?” Jack’s grin was crooked, teasing.
A strange fog seemed to engulf Lucy’s brain. She had known and loved lack for over fifteen years—like family. But suddenly he was her fake fiancé, whose erotic kiss she was trying hard to forget, and who had just announced their wedding date. Next week!
ENCHANTED BRIDES
The Myth
The stately D’Amour mansion stands majestically in the countryside, its absentee owner rumored to be living in Europe. Closed for years, this mansion has a charming myth surrounding it. Legend says that the mansion is enchanted and that “an unmarried woman who sleeps within its walls on her birthday, when the moon is full, will marry the first man she sees in the morning.”
Married By Mistake! is the second in Renee Roszel’s spellbinding Enchanted Brides trilogy. Look out for Elissa’s story in November 1998.
Also in the Enchanted Brides trilogy
To Marry a Stranger #3470
Renee Roszel can’t believe her good luck: she spends her days writing about the world’s most eligible, most exciting, most sensual men—and she has the power to orchestrate their every move!
She is also amazed by her good luck at having three heroes of her very own—her husband and two sons—who help directly with her research into heroic behavior.
Renee loves to hear from her fans. You may write to her at: Renee Roszel, P.O. Box 700154, Tulsa, Oklahoma, 74170, U.S.A.

Married By Mistake!
Renee Roszel


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Doug, my husband,
with whom I’ve shared more than half my life.
I love you.
CHAPTER ONE
“LUCY, darling, what—Oh, Lord! Twins!”
Lucy frowned and stretched, then winced as pain stabbed through her hip. What an odd dream. Jack was in it, and he sounded so—so troubled. It wasn’t like him to be troubled. He was an easygoing guy.
She felt another twinge in her hip, and her eyelids fluttered as she fought coming awake. She was so tired. Every fiber in her being cried out to be left alone. But something nagged at her brain, making her battle the urge to fall back to sleep.
As her eyes fully opened, she grimaced in confusion. Why was her head lolling on the seat cushion of an unfamiliar velvet sofa? And why were her legs cramped and twisted awkwardly on the cold, wood floor of—
She jerked up, shocked to discover that she’d dozed off. She couldn’t believe she had actually fallen asleep in such a scary situation. Swiping at her eyes, she cleared away the blur of exhaustion. The flicker of two dwindling candles on a dust-coated end table was her only light, but enough to make it clear that her little sister was no longer sleeping on the sofa. Lucy had been comforting her, holding her hand. But now, she was gone! Lucy jumped to her feet, her heart going to her throat. “Helen?”
In the dimness she could see the newborn baby girls, still on the velvet cushion—such a small, precious bundle—swaddled in her raincoat. Thank heaven for that. Pulling her sweater tighter around her, she began to panic. It was freezing in the old D’Amour mansion, and her sister had just given birth, prematurely, to twins. She was weak and cold, so where could she have gone? “Helen!” When her only answer was silence, fright clutched her by the throat. “Helen!” she cried in desperation. “Please—where are you?”
The sound of someone running filled her ears, and she spun toward the den’s entry in time to see a tall, dark figure appear at the door, just beyond the reaches of the candles’ illumination. With the intruder’s appearance, her heart stopped with dread. What was happening? She was so exhausted, so emotionally depleted, her eyes had to be playing tricks on her. Or was she hallucinating? Maybe, if she were very, very lucky, she was still asleep. Yes! Yes, that had to be it! She was asleep, and this massive, threatening figure was not there and Helen was dozing peacefully on the couch beside her babies.
Balling her fists, Lucy squeezed her eyes tight, pleading, “Please—please let me wake up from this nightmare !”
Footfalls that sounded all too real advanced across the gritty floorboards. Terror and helplessness surged through her. All she could think of to do was to fling herself across the babies in an effort to protect them.
As she was about to lunge toward the couch, she detected the most incongruous sound. A wry chuckle. At that same instant, gentle hands gripped her upper arms. “Lucy, Lucy...” Her name was spoken with soft urgency, and she felt herself being shaken slightly. “I know I’m not the man of your dreams, but a nightmare? Give me a break.”
That voice! She knew that voice! But it couldn’t be him. Couldn’t be Jack. He was spending the month in Bermuda. His last letter had been mailed from there.
She dropped her fists to her sides and opened her eyes. The first sight she saw was a cinnamon brown gaze, shimmering with melancholy humor. “Jack?” Though the candles were flickering low, their light feeble, she could never mistake those eyes. “Jack!” She grabbed at his shirtfront. “Oh, thank heavens you’re here. Helen’s missing. You have to help me find—”
“Calm down.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’ve already carried Helen to the car and notified Skaggs Hospital that we’re coming.”
So relieved she couldn’t find words, she hugged him with all her strength. “What—what are you doing in Branson?”
“Oh, the usual.” He held her close, his breath warm against her hair. “You know. Slaying dragons. Rescuing damsels in distress.”
She relished the harbor of his embrace and the comforting sound of his voice more than she could have imagined. Unfortunately, before she was ready to relinquish him, he stepped away. With a nod, he indicated the couch where Lucy’s infant nieces were lying, wide-eyed, in their makeshift bedding. “What do you say we rescue these little damsels?”
She didn’t know how Jack managed it, but she actually felt good enough to smile.
She shivered. The mild March day had turned mean and cold around midnight. The worst possible timing, considering everything.
He must have seen her tremor, for he shrugged off his suit coat and draped it about her shoulders. His body warmth hovered in the fabric along with his pleasant, familiar scent. Gratefully, she slid her arms into the sleeves, hugging herself. The expensive garment swallowed her all the way past her fingertips, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t remember when she’d needed warmth so badly.
When she looked at him again, he had lifted the babies in his arms and turned to go. She scurried after him toward the front entrance. For some reason, she recalled her odd, coincidental dream about Jack and couldn’t help but ask, “Did you call me darling in there?”
She thought she saw a slight hesitation in his step, then a sharp glance her way, but couldn’t be sure, even under the full moon. He began to lope down the steps, his chuckle rumbling through the night. “Sure,” he said. “I call all you Crosby girls darling. It keeps me from having to remember your names.”
She flushed, feeling ridiculous, and followed him down. “Sorry. I guess I was a little hysterical.”
“Forget it.” He settled the twins into Helen’s open arms, then helped Lucy into the back seat of his luxury rental car. She was startled when he leaned inside. His expression serious, he reached out, smoothing a strand of her blond hair behind her ear. “By the way, happy birthday, Luce.”
He’d ducked out and was in the driver’s seat before she could react. As he started the engine, she smiled shyly, focusing on her knees. She should have realized Jack wouldn’t forget.
One of the babies whimpered, and Lucy’s gaze shot to her little sister. “Helen? Is everything okay?”
The new mother glanced over her shoulder and smiled. Though she looked tired, her expression was happy. “In such good hands as yours and Jack’s, how could anything be wrong?”
Suddenly, Lucy found herself battling down an urge to burst into tears. It wasn’t until this moment—when the crisis was over—that she realized how out-of-her-mind stressed she’d been. Thank goodness the births had been normal.
Jack lifted the receiver of his car phone. “I’ll call the Branson police. Elissa went there to report you two missing.” When he hung up, he relayed the message that Elissa would meet them at the hospital.
Lucy sagged into the plush leather, grateful that Jack was here, handling everything.
A dark thought intruded—the other thing—the Stadler thing—and she bit her lip hard, preferring pain to remembering. This was no time to think nasty, bitter thoughts about heartbreak and betrayal. This was a time for positive thinking. Her glance shifted to Jack’s wide shoulders, then slid forward to scan his long, tanned fingers, curled around the steering wheel. Yes, Jack was a positive subject. She would think about Jack.
Jack had been their stepbrother fifteen years ago. Though he’d only lived in her father’s home for three years, and his mother, Rita Gallagher, had never allowed her dad to adopt him, the Crosby girls had refused to divorce Jack, even when his mother ran off with another man. Though he wasn’t truly a relative, he was very dear to them.
As he chewed up the ten miles to the hospital, Lucy found herself wondering how it was that he seemed to sense when the Crosby sisters needed him.
She marveled that he always seemed to be there.
Lucy accepted the paper cup of vending-machine coffee that Jack handed her. The Skaggs maternity wing was located in the newest hospital addition. Its waiting room was typical of waiting rooms everywhere, unadorned, antiseptic. The alcove was painted in restful hues of turquoise and mauve, with footstep-muffling carpet that seemed unnecessary in the predawn silence.
The furniture consisted of blond, wooden chairs butted armrest to armrest against the walls, the thinly padded seats of dark turquoise only comfortable enough for the most weary human being. But Lucy had no intention of going anywhere. She was that tired and that emotionally drained.
Yet she was also grateful. The doctor had reported that Helen and the babies were going to be fine.
“Where’s Elissa?” Jack sat down in the chair on her left.
“Oh, you know Elissa. She’s pacing somewhere.”
“That’s our Elissa. Little mother hen.” He placed a casual arm behind her. “How are you doing?”
She knew he was referring to Stadler, but she didn’t want to talk about that. The pain of his rejection was too raw, too new. Taking a stalling sip of the burning drink he’d brought her, she nodded. “I’m great. Now that I know Helen and the babies are no worse for the wear.”
“You did a good job.” He grinned down at her. The same, wonderful grin she’d found so comforting when she’d been a timid little girl, afraid of storms, creaking boards and barking dogs. Almost everything, really. Then big, strong Jack had come into their lives, apparently fearing nothing. Seven years her senior, he’d seemed quite grown-up when she’d been eight and he’d been fifteen. “You were smart to put that candle in the window, Luce.”
She couldn’t help but return his smile, though her effort was weak. His scent wafted around her, familiar and welcome. “Thanks. I had no idea you’d be the answer to my prayer.”
An enigmatic, almost pained, expression fleeted across his features. Lucy couldn’t imagine why, but whatever it meant, it was quickly gone. Probably fatigue. They were all reeling with exhaustion.
He cleared his throat. “So, you and your nieces share a birthday.”
She hadn’t thought of that. “I guess we do.” Her laughter bubbled, but lacked much humor. A yawn threatened and she covered her mouth with a hand. Peering up at the man beside her, she shook her head. “Sorry. It’s been a long night.”
His smile, this time, was less visible. “Extremely. I got to the inn around midnight, after driving from the Springfield airport. When Elissa went to find you and Helen to tell you I was there, she discovered you’d never returned from your walk. We drove around looking for two hours before we split up and she went to the police station. That’s when I saw the candle in the mansion window.”
“It was an afterthought. Helen couldn’t be left alone. The second baby took her own sweet time deciding to be born. I had to do something.”
There was a long pause, and Lucy felt a little uncomfortable, unsure why. “Elissa told me about Stadler,” he finally said. “If you want, we can talk about it.”
At the reminder, her muscles tensed and her heart constricted. All she could do was shake her head. She supposed she’d known the subject would have to come up. After a few strained moments, she managed, “I can’t.” Jack’s face was blurry and she blinked her vision clear. “Not yet. But thanks.”
“No problem.” His jaw clenched and unclenched. “I can wait.” He pursed his lips as though working to change the subject, bless him. “Where’s Damien?”
Grateful to have something else to think about, Lucy sighed. “He’s in the Denver airport, snowed in. His book tour is just about over. Two more cities.” She took another sip of coffee, then smiled with recollection. “When I talked to him a half hour ago, he pretty much said the tour was over as far as he was concerned. To quote him, he said, ‘I don’t care if my book is number one on the New York Times bestseller’s list and my publisher drops dead from apoplexy. I’m damned sure going to be with Helen and my baby girls as soon as this snow lets up!’” She was happy for her little sister and the staunch supporter she had in her husband. “Damien’s a wonderful guy.”
She noticed that Jack was looking at her in his direct, serious way. His vivid gaze was contemplative. She took a quiet minute to stare back, filling her eyes and her heart with him. It was awfully good to have him there.
His thick brown hair tapered tidily to his starched white collar. His silk tie was loosened at the neck, making him look less like a successful restaurateur and more like the teenage rebel she’d first known.
He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves, exposing sturdy forearms. Strong, protective arms that had lifted her out of a tree when she’d gotten herself stuck. Arms that had held her down so that the doctor could stitch up a gash in her thigh after she’d fallen off her bike. She bit her lip at the memory of how she’d shouted at him, telling him she hated him and would despise him forever. Of course she hadn’t meant a word of it. He’d laughed at her, telling her she was crazy for him and she knew it.
She half smiled at the memory. She’d had a terrific crush on him back then. She supposed she hadn’t hidden it well. Running a restless hand through her eternally tousled hair, she had an urge to snuggle in his arms the way she had when she’d been a frightened child. She needed some good, old-fashioned comforting.
“The babies weren’t due until April, right?”
His question pulled her from her musing, and she flushed, wondering if he would be embarrassed to know she’d been thinking about his arms, of all things. She nodded. “April second. Two more weeks.” Her heart twisted and she had to blink back guilty tears. “Oh, Jack—the whole thing was my fault.”
He chuckled, showing a flash of teeth. “You got Helen pregnant?”
She did a double take, then couldn’t help but laugh at his joke. “Jack, your restaurants keep you too busy. You need to take a course in human sexuality.” She shook her head in mock incredulity, but felt less depressed because of his teasing. Still, as her thoughts returned to the events of the night, her buoyant mood faded. “Really, if I hadn’t been so—so upset, Helen wouldn’t have suggested we take a walk and we wouldn’t have been in the middle of nowhere when she went into labor.”
“Sometimes twins come early, I understand. Don’t blame yourself.”
She glanced at him again, and this time when her lips twitched upward, there was wistful gratitude there. “Did you take a course?”
A dark eyebrow rose. “You just told me I needed to.”
“Not that course.” She slipped into the crook of his arm, yawning again. “Another course—where you learned all the right things to say.”
His pleasant chuckle reverberated through her. Very vaguely, she sensed her coffee cup being lifted from her fingers as overwhelming exhaustion and Jack’s snug closeness ushered her into the land of Nod.
Lucy, Jack and Elissa visited Helen that afternoon after everybody had had a little rest. Just as visiting hours were ending, Damien Lord dashed in, rumpled, unshaven, the image of a man possessed. Lucy smiled at him as he rushed by. He was such a handsome man, eye patch, scars and all.
“Darling.” He took Helen in his arms. “You look wonderful.”
Helen kissed Damien long and lovingly, her arms tight about his shoulders. When the kiss ended and Damien drew away enough to look at her, she held his face between her hands. “You look tired, honey.”
He grinned, relief etched on his face, then kissed the tip of her nose. “I just became a father. It takes a lot out of you.”
“No kidding.” Helen slipped her arms around his neck again. “Well, since you’re in such a delicate condition, maybe you’d better lie down beside me and rest.”
Jack cleared his throat and stood. “Sounds like our cue to leave, ladies.”
Damien turned, finally acknowledging them with a wave and a striking smile.
Elissa got up from her chair and smoothed the wrinkles from her wool skirt. “Well, I know I should get back. Jule’s become a great right hand for me at the inn, but I think I’ve left her alone long enough for one day.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Helen.” Lucy approached her sister and squeezed her fingers. Bending forward, she kissed her brother-in-law’s whisker-roughened jaw. “You get some rest, too—Daddy.”
Helen took hold of her sister’s hand and turned toward Jack and Elissa. “You two go on and get the car. I need a second with Lucy.”
Jack slipped an arm around Elissa’s shoulders and led her from the room. “It must be a secret club, and we don’t know the handshake.”
“Well, when we start our own secret club, they’ll be sorry,” Elissa said with a laugh.
After they were gone and the door closed, Helen released Damien and indicated the opposite side of the bed with a pat. “Sit here, honey. I need to talk to my sister for a minute.”
Lucy felt embarrassed and shy. “Look, Helen, you’ve already thanked me for helping you with the babies. But it was my fault we were out there—”
“Hush!” Helen touched Lucy’s mouth with her fingertips. “I suggested the walk. I flew from New York Against Damien’s wishes and the doctor’s orders, so enough about fault. We’re fine, and we’re here to celebrate a whole bunch of birthdays, and...” Helen’s expression grew sly. “And one other important and wonderful event!”
Lucy grew confused. She looked at Damien who appeared equally puzzled, though he smiled. “I don’t know what she’s talking about, either, but...” He took Lucy’s hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. “How can I repay you for saving Helen and my little girls?”
His expression was so full of emotion, Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. Pulling her lips between her teeth, she swallowed to get control of her voice. “I’m glad...” The words were so weak and shuddering, she stopped, trying again. “I’m glad everything turned out okay.”
“Now don’t make me cry, you two. It hurts,” Helen interrupted, sounding a little quivery herself. “Will you let me say something that’s very important?” She propped herself up on her pillows to have better eye contact with her sister. After getting comfortable, she took both of Lucy’s hands in hers. “Do you realize you’ve fulfilled all the requirements of the myth?”
Lucy was baffled. She looked at Damien in time to see his expression change from soft concern to wariness. “What are you saying, sweetheart?” He touched Helen’s hair, smoothing it along the pillow.
His wife glanced at him, her expression loving. “The D’Amour myth.” She returned her gaze to Lucy, her features animated. “You’re going to marry Jack.”
Lucy had never been so completely blindsided in her life. Not even by Stadler’s appalling letter yesterday, telling her he was breaking their two-year engagement to marry someone else. After she’d waited a year, then nine more lonely months while the Shakespearean troupe extended their tour of Australia again and again. She had been devastated by Stadler’s cruel blow. But this? This was insane!
She frowned, unable to do more than stare at her sister, who was obviously having a psychotic reaction to childbirth. Pulling a hand from Helen’s grip, she felt her sister’s forehead. “This isn’t good.”
“Is she feverish?” Worry edged Damien’s voice.
“I’m afraid not.” Lucy reached for the nurse’s call button. “And talking crazy like she is, she should be burning up.”
“I’m perfectly fine.” Helen grabbed Lucy’s wrist before she could call the nurses’ station. “Don’t you remember the myth?”
Lucy squinted down at her sister. “That—that thing about the birthday and the full moon?”
Helen nodded. “And sleeping in the mansion. And for your information, today is your birthday. Last night there was a full moon, and I know you slept because I saw you.”
Wide-eyed, Lucy looked to Damien for guidance. “What should we do?”
“I don’t know about you—” he grinned at his confused sister-in-law “—but when the time comes, I intend to kiss the bride.”
Lucy’s mind tumbled and skidded. Clearly, whatever psychosis that was affecting Helen had spread to her husband. She pulled from Helen’s grasp and backed away. “If this is a joke, I’m not laughing.”
Helen sat up, then grimaced, lying back down. “It’s not a joke. Tell her, Damien.” Taking the hand that had been stroking her hair, she kissed his palm. “Tell her that Jack Gallagher is her destiny, just like you were mine.”
Damien lifted one shoulder in an offhand shrug, looking terribly charming—such a big man perched carefully on the small bed beside the woman he loved. Two unlikely people who had found each other in an improbable place, their chance meeting changing both their lives drastically. “I like Jack. You two would be a great couple,” he said with a grin.
“But—but Jack’s been like a brother to us,” Lucy cried. “He—he...” She clamped her jaw. This conversation was ridiculous. “Besides, I—I can’t conceive of marriage right now!” Her heart wanted to scream that concepts like “trust” and “commitment” were sour, bitter lies as far as she was concerned. Stadler’s treachery had done great damage to her heart, damage not quickly mended—if ever.
Even so, Lucy wasn’t the sort of person to get angry and shout or argue. She’d always been the peacemaker of the three sisters. So from long years of practice, she straightened her face. She wasn’t mad at Helen. The sweet, stubborn dear had insisted on flying from New York just to be with Lucy on her birthday.
Clamping her hands together, she eyed them both with as much poise as she could muster. “I think the way you two met was extremely romantic, and it was a beautiful coincidence—considering the myth and all. But don’t you breathe a word of that nonsense again or I’ll—I’ll...”
“What?” Helen asked with a smirk. “Knit me a really ugly sweater?” She laughed, then winced, but quickly regained her smile. “To be honest, it won’t be necessary for either of us to lift a finger. Your fate is sealed.”
Lucy’s brows knit further and she stared pointedly at Damien. “The subject ends here, right?”
He winked. “I always said Jack was a damn lucky man. I just didn’t know how lucky.”
Lucy’s lips parted in stunned disbelief. “You two are crazy.”
“We are cute, aren’t we?” Helen snuggled against her husband. “And we’re happy for you, Lucy.”
She drew a deep breath and forbade herself to tremble. “Get some sleep, both of you. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“You’re cute when you’re in denial,” Helen said, waving goodbye. “Now go away. Damien has some serious kissing to do.”
His low chuckle mingled with his wife’s laughter, chasing Lucy from the room. As she scurried along the hallway toward the parking lot, she vowed that Jack would never get wind of what had been predicted today. Jack Gallagher felt indebted to their father for helping turn his life around, and because of that deep affection and appreciation, he cared for all three of the Crosby daughters—equally.
She would never allow him to be embarrassed by such a crazy notion!
Since Old Man Winter had decided to revisit Branson, Jack lit a fire in the inn’s parlor. Luckily, March was not one of the busiest tourist months in the bustling Missouri town referred to as the “Las Vegas of the Ozarks,” so there was a vacant room for Jack.
Lucy had taken a long nap and a relaxing bath that afternoon, so she felt more human as she sat on the white muslin sofa, toying with the fringe of one of the colorful throw pillows. Covertly, she watched Jack as he and Elissa played gin on the Oriental rug before the fire.
Elissa slapped his hand as he picked up a card she’d just thrown on the discard pile. “That’s the third card of mine you’ve taken!”
He slipped it into his fan of cards. “Can I help it if you don’t know a good card when you see one?”
“You’d better take care,” Elissa warned him, drawing another card. She frowned at it, scanned Jack with narrowed, suspicious eyes, then slapped it onto the discard pile. He plucked it up, and this time, Elissa dropped her cards and grabbed his hand with both of hers. “Oh, no! Oh, no! There’s a rule that you can’t take more than three discards in a row.”
“Show me in the rule book.” He laughed as she yanked on the playing card.
“Don’t you trust me?” she squealed.
“Not a chance.”
The card was now bent and twisted, but Jack didn’t release it, only chuckled at Elissa’s futile struggles as he placed it with his other cards.
“If you gin, I’ll kill you.”
“Gin,” he said without missing a beat, his grin so delightfully devilish it stole Lucy’s breath.
With a wild groan, Elissa yanked his cards from his fingers and tossed them into the air. “I will not play with a cheater!”
Lucy found herself joining the laugher. She reached out and caught a card as it fluttered down. “Jack, when will you learn that Elissa hates to lose?”
He glanced up at her. The firelight did clever things to his hair, giving him a bronze halo. His teeth seemed excessively white as he grinned her way. “Then you play with me. My health insurance rates will go down.”
“Oh, you...” Elissa leaned over and tweaked his cleft chin. “You’re the only man on earth I can’t beat at gin and I hate that about you. It’s an unforgivable flaw in your character.”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “That makes two unforgivable flaws. Lucy says I don’t have a clue where babies come from.”
“Really?” Elissa passed a dubious glance toward Lucy. “Do you suppose that supermodel who stalked him for six months thought that, too?”
“She didn’t stalk me,” Jack cut in, amusement in his voice. “She just followed me around and hid in my grounds from time to time.”
Elissa stood. “Well, excuse me. I’m insane for suggesting she stalked you. After all, stalking is when somebody follows you around and hides in your grounds. My mistake.”
“Okay, okay. But she’s safely back in France now,” he said. “Getting treatment.”
Elissa smiled playfully. “What was it she couldn’t resist about you, Jack dear? Your gin game?”
Lucy’s cheeks grew hot. “I was kidding when I said that, Elissa. I’m sure Jack is well aware of sexual—stuff.”
Elissa laughed. “Lucy, Jack knew stuff even before his mother married Dad and they moved in with us.” She gave him a superior smirk. “I should know because my room was right below his. I saw his girlfriends climbing up the trellis to his room.”
Jack’s expression grew sheepish, captivatingly so. “Hell. You knew?”
“No!” Lucy cried. “I don’t believe it. I never saw any girls. And I ran in and jumped right into Jack’s bed during thunderstorms.”
“During thunderstorms the windows were closed,” Elissa reminded her with a laugh.
The fire popped and hissed, and Jack turned away to took into the flames. Lucy had a feeling he was embarrassed about this discussion of his wild youth.
“On those infrequent nights when his window was closed, it kept out the rain and half the pubescent females in Kansas City.” Elissa crossed her arms before her, eyeing Lucy as though she were a touch feeble-witted. “And you said he didn’t know where babies came from. Just another example that you’re not a good judge of men.”
The remark was like a punch in her heart, and Lucy grimaced.
Suddenly, Elissa was standing before her, holding her face. “Gosh, I’m sorry. That wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—I was trying to be funny.” She let out a disgusted breath and eyed the ceiling. “I’m just so furious at Stadler. That’s all. Can you forgive me?”
Lucy swallowed to ease the lump of emotion that had formed in her throat, then nodded. “Sure—sure...”
“Hey.” Elissa inhaled, clearly trying to lighten the mood. “How about some tea? Since you won’t let us celebrate your birthday until Helen and the twins are home, we might as well have a cup of English Apple to commemorate year number twenty-six. What do you say?”
Lucy nodded. “Sounds good.” She managed to smile and even make direct eye contact with her sister, who looked so upset by her slip of the tongue that Lucy couldn’t be angry with her.
“Want some help?” Jack asked.
“No.” Elissa faced him, thumping her fists on her hips. “Cardsharps must clean up the mess.”
“I presume that’s straight out of ‘Elissa’s Gin Rule Book for Sleazoids Who Beat Her’?”
“Chapter one.” She lifted her chin in haughty affront. “Sleazoid.”
After Elissa. left the room, Lucy discovered that Jack was silently watching her. He bent one knee, curling an arm around it. “Would you like to play with me?”
She felt a strange tremor along her spine and shook it off. Helen’s prediction that afternoon had left its lingering effect, and Jack’s innocent question seemed erotic. Shaking her head, she sat farther back in the fluffy couch, clutching the pillow she’d been toying with to her breasts. “Oh—no, I’m not very good at gin.”
“Neither is Elissa.” His grin was so appealing she found herself smiling back. “You tell her I said that and you’re toast.”
She nodded. “I know.”
They watched each other for another minute before Jack tilted his head in a way that told her he was there to listen if she wanted to talk. It was bizarre how he could communicate so much without a word. No doubt it was because she knew him so well.
She shook her head. “I don’t think you can help me with this, Jack.”
“I could try.”
Uncomfortable under his close scrutiny, she cleared her throat. “Just be my friend. Okay?”
Pursing his lips, he nodded. “Right.”
He began to pick up the cards and she scanned him as he moved. Watched the energy of his actions, his economy of motion. The clothes he wore were simple, but rich. His beige trousers emphasized hard thighs and taut hips. His shirt was an emerald green knit, and as he moved, muscle rippled, making a tantalizing show of shoulders and arms. She lounged her head back, casually gazing, almost feasting. It was surprising how the simple act of gathering a few cast-off playing cards could be such eye candy.
His knuckle scraped against her ankle as he retrieved the last fallen card, and she yelped, not aware that she’d slipped into a daydream.
“Sorry.” He came up beside her and sat on the couch to shuffle the cards. The broken one flipped out of the pack and landed in her lap. She gasped and flinched. “Aren’t we a little jumpy tonight?” As he picked up the playing card, his fingers grazed her inner thigh through her trousers. Her body registered his brief touch with a queer tingling. “You seem nervous, Luce.”
Restive, she tossed aside the pillow she’d been clutching, then thought better of it, squeezing it against her breasts as some sort of blue damask barrier. “No—no, I’m not nervous,” she lied, then wondered why in the world she was. She and Jack were about as close as any man and woman could be who weren’t really brother and sister. She avoided his scrutinizing gaze, focusing on his chin, deeply cleft and tan. Casting around for a safe topic, she asked, “Why are you in town, Jack?”
“I thought Elissa told you. I’m thinking of opening my fifth Gallagher’s Bistro here in Branson.” She met his eyes, not realizing she’d done so until his half-mast glance was sparkling into hers. “I figured what’s good enough for New York City, Chicago, L.A. and London is good enough for the Crosby girls.”
She smiled against her will. Suddenly shy, she scanned her lap to avoid his intense eyes. “Speaking on behalf of all the Crosby girls—I thank you.”
“It’s nothing.” His hard thigh brushed hers as he relaxed back. “Nice fire.”
“Bragging?” She was surprised to find herself ribbing him for a change.
He chuckled. “I’m almost as good at fire building as I am at playing gin.” He nudged her with his elbow. “Sort of a Jack-of-all-trades.”
She groaned. “That pun never gets any better.”
He shrugged and she felt it. He was sitting very close. Which was fine. She had nothing to fear from him. Just because Helen said she and Jack were going to be married didn’t mean Jack had amorous intentions toward her. And that was absolutely for the best, since the last thing on her mind was romance.
“Tired?”
“No.” She shook her head, leaning against his shoulder. It was true. She wasn’t tired, just downhearted, lost, emotionally adrift. Sleep seemed like the best escape, and her body was willing to oblige.
“Elissa’s fixing your birthday tea.”
“I’m awake.”
He shifted to put his arm around her. “Sure you are, Luce.”
She didn’t know how long she napped in Jack’s embrace before the doorbell woke her.
“I’ll get it,” Elissa said.
“Just in time,” Jack murmured against her hair. “You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”
“No...um—no—I’m wide...” She pushed away from him, her denial thick and slurred. When she straightened and looked around, she noticed a silver tea tray sitting on the coffee table.
He laughed softly. “You’re not that wide.”
She peered at him, fuzzy-headed. “What?”
His grin crooked, he started to say something, but Elissa interrupted. “Lucy, a telegram for you.” She shifted toward the parlor entrance as Elissa breezed in, waving the yellow paper. Disquiet marred her lovely features. “Maybe Stadler’s had a change of heart and has decided to crawl back.”
Lucy took the telegram and tore it open. “You don’t have to be so unhappy about the idea.”
Elissa sat down in the leather chair beside the couch, worriedly eyeing her sister. “Well, before this English Apple turns to ice, I guess I’ll go ahead and pour.” She picked up a cup and the pot.
Lucy scanned the message, unable to believe her eyes. She had just read it a second time when a keening cry tore through the quiet and she felt faint. Somewhere, she heard the sound of a teacup breaking and splintering into pieces.
“Lucy!” Powerful male arms came around her, keeping her from slipping to the floor. “You screamed. What’s happened?”
CHAPTER TWO
LUCY was dismayed with herself. She’d never fainted in her life. But this news was so awful. A shiver ran through her, bringing her fully back to consciousness.
When she realized Jack held her in his arms and was laying her on the couch, she let out a moan of embarrassment and pushed at his chest. “Oh—oh, I’m okay. Don’t—don’t...”
“Shush,” he admonished. “You’re as white as a ghost.”
“Oh, Lord!” Elissa cried. From her angry tone, Lucy knew her sister was reading the telegram that had tumbled to the floor. “That pig! That putrefying slab of pork! He’s coming here!”
Jack’s worried glance lifted to Elissa although he didn’t rise. With one hand on Lucy’s shoulder, he remained kneeling beside her. “Who’s coming here?”
Even in the dim light, Elissa’s green eyes were blazing, her expression murderous. With an angry flourish, she thrust the telegram at Jack. “You read it. I’m afraid some more unattractive words will slip out of my mouth if I explain.”
Jack looked confused as he took the telegram. With shaky fingers, Lucy reached for it. “Don’t...” He evaded her attempt to snatch it from him. She groaned, covering her face with unsteady hands. She had to leave town immediately. But where could she go? They didn’t have relatives anywhere. That didn’t matter. She couldn’t stay. Not now.
There was absolute quiet in the room for such a long time she had to peek through her fingers to see what was going on. The world was blurry and she blinked, focusing on Jack as he stared at the telegram, his expression grim. When his glance caught Lucy’s, something raw and violent flashed in his eyes. “Who does this piece of crap think he is?”
Lowering his glance to the page again, he gritted out the written words.
“‘Dearest Lucy,
I know my letter must have come as a shock, and I apologize. After thinking about it, I know it is my duty to see you face-to-face and smooth things over.
“‘By the time you receive this, my fiancée and I will be winging our way to Branson, arriving on March 20. The first day of spring. Appropriate for my mission, for I’ve decided we must begin again. As great chums.
“‘You must meet my fiancée. You are both lovely, compliant women, and you will become fast friends. I know from your gentle temperament that you will agree that life is too short to harbor hard feelings between two people so sublimely simpatico as we two.
Yours forever,
Stadler”’
Jack made a guttural sound that sounded suspiciously like a curse. “That egotistical jackass.” When he lifted his gaze to Lucy’s face, his cinnamon eyes held a blaze that had nothing to do with the fire in the hearth. “I’ll show him a brand of simpatico he won’t find quite so sublime.”
Lucy touched his arm. She appreciated his anger on her behalf, but shook her head. “You mustn’t get involved, Jack.” She struggled up on her elbows. “Besides, I don’t plan to be here when he arrives.”
“What?” Elissa bent over her sister. “Where are you going?”
Lucy ran a trembly hand through her hair. “I don’t know. But I can’t be here. I couldn’t face him and—and his new fiancée. Surely you understand that.”
Elissa straightened to her full five foot seven, looking offended. “I understand nothing of the kind.” Plopping her fists on slender hips, she glowered at her sister. “You’re going to meet him at the door with a two-by-four and pound him into dust. That’s what you’re going to do.”
Lucy grimaced, slipping her legs over the side of the couch and coming up to sit. As she did, Jack seated himself beside her, his expression compassionate, his eyes telegraphing concern. “You’d leave before the twins and Helen are even out of the hospital? When she came all this way to be with you for your birthday?”
Lucy flinched at the reminder. It would be cruel to leave, abandoning Helen and the babies when her sister had come especially to see her. But what else could she do? She wasn’t an aggressive person, loving a fight like her ex-lawyer sister, Elissa. Lucy hated confrontations, had spent her life trying to keep everyone calm and happy. People had always called her the sensitive one, the conciliatory one—“the sweet sister.” Confrontation wasn’t part of her character.
There was no way she could face Stadler and his new love. She shuddered at the thought, unable to look at either Elissa or Jack. “I can’t stay.” With her forlorn sigh, Jack took her hands in his big, warm ones, but she pulled away from his touch, too upset with her sniveling cowardice to allow herself to be comforted. “I—I’ll go pack.”
“No, you won’t,” Elissa warned. Lucy rose to her feet, but her older sister’s hands clamped down on her shoulders, halting her. “You’re not bolting like a jackrabbit, young lady. If you go, there will be nobody here to keep me from leaping on Stadler’s back and strangling him. Do you want that? Do you want me to spend my best years behind bars just because I dispatched a worthless toad to Worthless-Toad Hell?”
Lucy winced, not so much from her sister’s empty threat, but from the pressure of her blunt fingernails biting into her flesh. “Elissa, please don’t belabor this. I’m leaving.” She ducked out of her grasp. “Besides, I know you’re itching to tell him off yourself.”
“What I’m itching to do is beside the point.” She took Lucy’s face between her palms, forcing her to look into determined green eyes. “It’s what you must do that we’re talking about.”
Tears welled and Lucy blinked them back. “I—I can’t.”
With a frown furrowing her brow, Elissa dropped her arms to her sides. “Coward!”
Lucy fought to keep from trembling. “Don’t be mean, Elissa,” she whispered.
There was movement beside her and she knew Jack had stood. “Your sister’s right, Luce. Don’t run away. Stay and show the jerk you don’t care a damn about him.”
Gulping around a knot of tears, Lucy faced him. “But—but I do care.”
There was a brief slitting of his eyes, a fleeting sideways stirring of his jaw, an odd reaction. Almost as though he’d been slapped. The expression lasted only a millisecond before he offered a sympathetic smile. “Luce, the man has a tremendous ego, thinking his two women must meet. Hell, he probably has visions of a catfight over him right here in the parlor. The only thing he could hope for that could be more flattering than that would be if you ran.” He reached out as though he was going to touch her cheek, then seemed to think better of it. With a slow fisting of his hand, he dropped it to his side. “Don’t you have the smallest desire to avenge yourself for what he did to you?”
She stared, confused. “Avenge myself?”
“Great idea!” Elissa clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. “Make him think you’re so bored to see him you can hardly remember his name.” She sat down on the leather chair as Lucy pivoted to look at her. There was a frightening gleam in her older sister’s eyes. “Now, Jack,” Elissa was saying, “since Lucy’s so rotten at plotting revenge, it’s up to us. What would make Stadler hang by his thumbs, twisting in the wind, screaming in agony?”
Lucy sank to the sofa. What was going on? Her mind was too numbed to grasp what they were plotting. But it didn’t really matter what they were talking about. She only needed another minute to get her strength back and she would tell them to forget it, then she’d go to her room and pack a bag and be gone.
“Being a man, I know what would put a gaping hole in my ego.”
“What?” Elissa sat forward, expectancy stamped on her pretty face. “I hope it involves a ‘kick me’ sign on Stadler’s back.”
Jack grinned wryly. “Psychologically, yes.”
“Please, you two, I—”
“Hush, sweetie!” Elissa waved a dismissal. “Jack has an idea.”
Lucy shifted to stare at him, afraid she wasn’t going to be thrilled by his idea—if it had anything to do with being in town when Stadler got here. She was sorry to have to admit it, even to herself, but she was as terrified of facing her ex-fiancé and his lady love as she had been of thunderstorms when she was a child.
She watched Jack’s face. He surveyed her gently, his eyes narrowed with worry or possibly pity. She couldn’t be sure which, and squirmed. She didn’t want Jack’s pity! She’d never thought about it until this minute, but for some reason, she couldn’t bear the idea of Jack’s feeling sorry for her. She wanted him to smile his teasing smile, not watch her solemnly, his eyes stricken. Unable to deal with what she saw and how that sight made her feel, she twisted away.
Her uneasy movement seemed to affect him, and he cleared his throat. “Okay, how’s this for an idea? His ego would be exploded all to hell if you met him with a fiancé of your own.”
Elissa’s gasp drew Lucy’s gaze. She felt dull-witted, her brain trying to assimilate what Jack had said. But apparently, Elissa’s brain had readily grasped the concept, deduced that it was perfect and ordered up a victorious smile.
“Wonderful!” Elissa cried. “Fight fire with fire! Make him think you’ve been as disloyal to him as he was to you, the bag of dirt!” She vaulted up, clearly deciding the plan was settled. “I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes you don’t care a crumb for him!”
Lucy frowned at her sister, her astonished glance skittering to Jack. She couldn’t even express what she was thinking. For instance, even if she agreed to this, just who would be her fake fiancé? The whole idea was impossible.
“I’d better clean up the mess I made.” Elissa began gingerly picking up broken shards of the teacup. “Then we’ll have to warn Helen and Damien and get our story straight. We don’t have long.”
Lucy’s ability to speak clicked on and she jumped up. “We?” She glared at Elissa and then at Jack. “We? I hope you don’t think I’ll agree to this. First of all, there aren’t that many men hanging around that I can ask to go along with such a crazy scheme. And secondly, I can’t lie. I’ve never been able to lie. It’s hopeless.” She headed for the parlor exit. “I’m going to pack. Elissa, call the Springfield bus station and get me a ticket on the first bus to Kansas City. I’ll hide out in the YWCA until he’s gone. The Smiths are leaving for Springfield in the morning. I can hitch a ride with them.”
She felt a hand take her wrist. “I’ll do it, Luce.”
Caught in Jack’s firm grasp, she spun toward him as Elissa scolded, “You certainly won’t do any such thing, Jack. Nobody’s giving her a ride anywhere.”
“I didn’t mean that.” He faced Lucy, towering there, all muscle and firelight. His bedroom eyes at half-mast, his features were unsmiling. “I meant, I’ll pretend to be your fiancé.” His voice was smoky soft, his glance strangely beguiling. She blinked, feeling out of breath as she focused all her senses on what he was saying. “You’ve known me a long time, Luce. We already care about each other. It wouldn’t be that hard to pretend you love me—would it?”
Elissa gasped. “Perfection! Absolute perfection.” Since her hands were full of broken pieces of china, she nudged Lucy in the ribs with her elbow. “And Jack’s a lot better looking than Stadler. Taller, richer, and he has a strong, square chin, not that excuse for a jaw of Stadler’s.”
Jack grinned wryly at the redhead. “Stop it before I blush.”
Elissa laughed. “Really, Jack. This is better than my ‘kick me’ sign idea. It’ll destroy Stadler right down to his scummy roots.” Elissa stretched up to kiss his cheek. “I’d better go throw this china away before I slash an artery. You two start planning Stadler’s downfall.”
When Elissa was gone, Lucy could only gawk at the man before her. “I—I won’t let you do this.”
He squeezed her wrist, his fingers lingering a second before he let her go. “Hey, if it weren’t for the influence of your family, I might have traveled a very different road in life.” He shrugged his hands into his trouser pockets. “Let me help, Luce. I want to.”
“But I’m not a vengeful person. I wouldn’t be able to carry it off. Besides—besides...” Her lower lip began to quiver in spite of her attempt to quell it. Suddenly overwhelmed, she dropped to the sofa, covering her eyes with her fists. “Oh, Jack—I waited so long for Stadler. You have no idea what it’s like to wait and wait for somebody you love—” A sob cut off her words.
The sofa dipped as he sat down, drawing her against him. His solicitude was so welcome that she could no longer hold in her gnawing heartache. He held her protectively, allowing her to cry herself dry against his chest. Somewhere in her anguish, as he stroked her back to calm her, she thought she heard him murmur, “Maybe I can imagine, Luce. Maybe I can....”
Lucy looked up from polishing their silver tea tray at the kitchen table as Elissa swept into the kitchen through the pantry. Bella and her assistant had been scraping food from the breakfast dishes and filling the dishwasher. “Bella,” Elissa called, “could you and Ramona excuse us for a minute?”
The plump cook looked a little startled, but nodded. “Sure, Miss Elissa. Ramona and I were just going into town to do some shopping for supper anyway.” She indicated the kitchen door with a nod of her gray curls, and her gaunt, plain-faced assistant scurried out ahead of her without a word. Seconds later, the door closed, leaving the sisters alone.
The guests had already scattered for the day, heading off for sight-seeing in Branson and Silver Dollar City. But Lucy’s mind was on anything but the bounty of things to do in their unique community, with its many theaters and gala shows, nestled in the unspoiled Ozark Mountains of Missouri. Her mind was raging, Why am I still here? Why hadn’t she packed her bags and left for Springfield the first thing this morning with the departing Smiths? She couldn’t possibly have decided to go along with the plan to pretend to be engaged to Jack—could she? She took an extra hard swipe at the silver tray, a family heirloom, and gritted her teeth. Why, oh why, couldn’t she act! Leave! Why did she have to be such a wimp? Why was she even listening to Jack and Elissa?
“Well!” her big sister interrupted the mutinous train of thought with a loud sigh. “I don’t know what’s the matter with our baby sister and her husband.”
Lucy looked up, a tremor of alarm slithering through her. “Is something wrong? Are they okay? Are the twins—”
“Hold it.” Elissa put a reassuring hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. They’re fine. I meant, when I told them about our plan, Helen started laughing. When she couldn’t stop, she got after me for making her stitches hurt. Then she told Damien, and I could hear him laughing in the background.” Elissa shook her head. “They have a strange sense of humor, those two. Do you think they’ve been snorting laughing gas?”
Lucy could feel heat creep up her face. She knew what Helen and Damien were thinking—the myth! That was foolish, of course. She had no intention of getting involved with another man, not now, maybe never. And Jack was merely a friend offering his assistance because he owed John Crosby, and he cared enough about her to want to help her save face. There was nothing more to it than that.
Swallowing, she set down the tray and eyed her sister as directly as she could. “How could you have told them such a thing? I’m not sure I’ll agree to do it. As a matter of fact, I still think packing and getting—”
“Lucille Violet Crosby, you will not disgrace yourself by turning tail and running. Is that clear?” Elissa took up the polishing cloth and furiously began to buff the intricate pattern that banded the square tray, apparently trying to channel her fit of temper. “Jack is willing. He cares for you. He cares for us all. Now you stiffen your upper lip and get with the program. Stadler Tinsley needs to be taken down a peg for his egotistical scheme, and you’re going to find the backbone to do it.” She plunked the tray onto the table and eyed her younger sister for a few seconds before her expression relaxed. ”Besides, once old Stad’s hit in the face with the fact that you don’t care about him, I bet he drags that unfortunate new fiancée of his onto the first plane out of Missouri.” Elissa brushed a hand through Lucy’s white blond, shoulder-length hair, more as a sisterly caress than a gesture of grooming, though the stuff was so fine and flyaway it always needed a good finger combing. ”You’ll have to pretend to be engaged for five minutes, tops.”
“You think so?” Lucy wondered how it was that Elissa managed to make ideas that were completely insane seem perfectly reasonable. Probably some class she’d taken in law school.
“I know so.” Elissa grinned, putting her arm around her sister and gathering her close for a peck on the cheek. “Now that that’s settled, I have an inn to run.”
As the redhead set off for the hallway, Lucy had a horrible thought. “What about the help, Elissa? Bella, her assistant, Ramona, and the housekeeper, Jule?”
Elissa’s features grew momentarily pinched, then she shrugged and grinned. “Okay, so for five minutes they’ll think you’re engaged, too. No big deal.”
Elissa was gone before Lucy could come up with the obvious arguments. Like, what if Stadler saw through the lie? What if he stayed longer than five minutes? What if—what if...? She couldn’t think of the other things. And even if she could have thought of any, she didn’t want to dwell on them.
Shaking her head, Lucy slowly stood. Pack. That’s what she had to do. She could always catch a ride to Springfield in Branson on one of the big hotel shuttles. There was no way she could carry off this charade even if Jack was willing to help. She wouldn’t put him through it. It was too much to ask, even of him.
She must leave. Now.
Lucy checked her watch. Ten o’clock. Her cab should be arriving any minute. Snapping shut her suitcase, she headed out of her basement bedroom and hurried up the steps as quickly as her heavy bag would allow. She knew that Elissa would be in her office at this hour working on the inn’s books, and Jack... Well, hopefully he was in his room or taking a nature walk in the woods—anywhere but in her direct escape route. She didn’t want either of them to see her and try to persuade her to go through with their insane plan. At the top of the stairs, she hastened right into the little hallway that led to the staircase vestibule, then to the reception hall.
She could hear the crunch of tires on gravel as she reached the front door. Perfect timing. Peering through the beveled glass, she recognized the vehicle as a cab.
Taking a long, relieved breath, she knew she was about to make a clean getaway. Let Stadler think she ran away. Let him believe she was too hurt to see him. She didn’t dare look into his two-timing, plum-colored eyes, eyes that she feared could still make her melt. She didn’t dare let him see her pain.
Besides, Elissa had too much family pride to admit Lucy had run off. She would deny the truth with all her strength and make up some plausible story. This was the best way. If she stayed, there was no way she could hide her anguish. Stadler was not a stupid man.
Just as she turned the door handle, she heard the slam of a car door, then another. Two slams? Two car doors? For one cabdriver? Alarm constricted her stomach, and she peeked through the glass again, only to gasp out loud.
Stadler!
He and—and his woman were here.
“Luce?” The query came from somewhere in the vicinity of the staircase. She spun around. “What is it?” Jack came down the remainder of the steps and made quick work of the distance between them. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, pointing disjointedly over her shoulder. Words wouldn’t form.
He leaned close, his night-woodsy scent clean and pleasantly familiar as he looked through the frosted and cut glass. “The bastard?”
Though she was unsettled by his word choice, she knew whom he was talking about and nodded.
When he stepped back and looked at her again, he noticed the suitcase beside her and frowned. His glance flicked back to hers as realization struck. His look of disappointment almost made her cry. “Luce, you weren’t.” The words of disbelief came out in a husky whisper.
She swallowed hard several times. “I—I can’t go through with it, Jack.”
The flare of his nostrils was his only comment as he grabbed her bag and sprinted with it to the staircase hall. Throwing open the storage door below the stairs, he shoved it inside.
Lucy started to object, but jumped when she heard heavy footfalls on the front porch. As though it were a pack of rabid wolves bent on gnawing through the door, she leaped away. Even in her stumbling retreat, she couldn’t keep from staring in hypnotized fascination at the crystal knob, twinkling as it turned.
There was a click and a low-pitched creak when the door began to open. It happened in a crazy slow motion, seeming to take forever. But after an eternity of ponderously ticking seconds, there he was.
Stadler Tinsley—the man Lucy had thought she would spend her life with. The drama teacher at the University of Kansas, who got a lucky break, being chosen for the lead in an off-Broadway production of Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Naturally, for an aspiring thespian, it had been an opportunity he couldn’t resist, even though he and Lucy were to have been married in only two months.
So he’d asked her to wait for him—a wait that had become two long years while he toured Australia—and apparently romanced and won another woman along the way.
Lucy was unsettled to note that he was still as disarmingly attractive as she remembered. Tall, lithe, he stood there, impeccably dressed, somewhat on the dramatic side. Not a hair on his sandy blond head was out of place. His dazzling plum eyes were bright in contrast to his milky skin. And as usual, his prominent, aristocratic nose was lifted a bit high for him to claim a shred of humility.
Lucy knew the second Stadler recognized the woman he’d so recently and heartlessly dumped. His lips lifted in a jaunty smile, and her heart twisted. How dare he smile like that, without a hint of remorse?
He stepped inside the door and lifted his arms as though he expected her to run to him in a spasm of joy. “Lucy, my pet!” His fine bass voice echoed as though he were speaking to an enraptured audience. “What a pleasure it is to see you again!”
He took a step into the room, then stopped, his cultivated smile faltering. Lucy was confused for a second, until an arm came around her waist, gathering her against a sturdy torso. She could detect Jack’s cologne as well as the light, underlying tang that was his alone, and she breathed deeply, hoping that filling her lungs with his essence would infuse her with at least a little courage.
It was too late to run.
“Our sentiments exactly, Stadler, old buddy.” Jack extended a hand toward the gaping man who had gone still. “Really—a pleasure. Isn’t that right—darling?”
Lucy felt wretched. The fraud had begun.
CHAPTER THREE
A SANDY eyebrow lifted, the only indication of Stadler’s misgiving. Though his smile had wavered temporarily, it was radiant again. “Why, Lucy-pet? What does this mean?” His arms slowly began to lower to his sides, giving the impression of a deflating plastic doll.
A rustling came from outside the door. “Staddie?” Another rustle and a thump-thump. “Staddie? Can you open up a little wider?” After one more dubious glance at the entwined couple, Stadler swung the front door wide to allow a petite woman to struggle in, a big leather suitcase in each hand. “I told the cabbie we could get the cases, Staddie. Save a penny, save a...” She looked up, smiling brightly at the room in general. “Well, whatever. I can never remember those old sayings. Hi, everybody.”
Lucy stared at the young woman who was barely five feet tall. Her dark hair sprouted up and out, away from her head in a punk-pixie style that somehow suited her. By her beaming smile, she clearly didn’t know the minefield she was stepping into. Apparently, Stadler hadn’t thought the poor thing needed any preparation for what could very well be awkward—if not violent. He obviously didn’t make a practice of giving bad news face-to-face. Not a particularly heroic trait, Lucy mused.
“Hi, there.” It was Jack who broke the silence. With gentle fingers at Lucy’s back, he prodded her reluctant body forward as he stretched out a welcoming hand. “I’m Jack Gallagher and this is my fiancée, Lucy Crosby. Nice to have you visit us, Miss...”
The pixie woman with huge hazel eyes let go of one of the bags. Instead of extending her hand, she began to rub her palm on the thigh of her mutilated jeans, seemingly cleansing it before the handshake. Lucy’s glance was drawn to her red T-shirt, taut over pert, unfettered breasts that jiggled as she moved. The shirt read, “I am woman, hear me charge.”
After a thorough polishing of her palm, which now had to be raw if not entirely germless, the pixie extended her hand. “Sareena Green. Pleased to meet you, Jack—Lucy.”
“Fiancée?”
Three heads turned toward Stadler, who had now lifted both eyebrows in conspicuous incredulity. His smile was gone. “Fiancée?” he repeated, this time in a deeper timbre, intimidating enough to make Lucy quake.
If not for Jack’s arm around her, and his body to lean against, she would have sunk to her knees. She swallowed hard, but found that all she could muster in answer was a panicked widening of her eyes.
“Exactly when did this happen?” He slanted his head toward Lucy, one eyebrow cranked upward as though he were saying, “Not a funny joke!”
“It was sudden,” Jack offered, squeezing her waist reassuringly. By his voice, she could tell he was smiling and she turned to gape at him. His expression was amazingly believable. “I came for a visit and—well, the next thing Lucy knew, she was engaged.” He gazed down at her, his smile tender. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
She nodded numbly. She had to give Jack credit. That little speech was about as close to the truth as this ghastly fiasco was ever going to get.
Startling her, he lowered his mouth to her temple. His lips against her skin were warm and pleasant. His mouth moved to caress her at her hairline as he added, “I don’t regret what I did, Tinsley.” Lifting his lips away, he faced Stadler. “I’ve loved her for a long time. This was all my doing, so you mustn’t blame Lucy.” His jaw clenched, then clenched again as though he were making a guilty admission. “I felt like a jerk—until your letter came.” He grinned. But the expression wasn’t particularly friendly. More cunning. “But then, you know something about jerks, don’t you, old buddy.” It hadn’t been a question.
Stadler’s eyebrows snapped down in a grimace, and he peered sideways at Sareena. The poor thing’s features were pinched in confusion. “Ena, my pet, why don’t we get settled? You look wan.” He turned back to Lucy and managed a real smile. “May we have a key? Perhaps we can chat about this later.”
Lucy felt a rock form in her stomach, so hard and painful she wanted to cry. Later? That one word held a horrid reality—Stadler had no intention of staying only five minutes. As she nodded, moving in a daze behind the reception desk to get him a key, she felt a sudden urge to feed Elissa piece by piece to the neighborhood squirrels. Five minutes, she’d said. She’d practically promised! Why, oh why, am I not safely on my way to Kansas City right now?
With a frail excuse for a smile, she handed Stadler a room key. Her fingers shook so badly the metal latchkey clattered against its plastic holder, sounding like a tambourine solo. When he reached out to take it, he startled her by engulfing her whole hand in his. “What is it, pet? You seem agitated.”
She stilled, feeling caught. She couldn’t lie! Didn’t know how. She had told Jack and Elissa she couldn’t carry this off. What was she going to do? Blurt out the truth! That seemed like the only answer. As the ugly facts scrambled to the tip of her tongue, she cast a helpless gaze toward Jack.
Almost as though he could read her mind, Jack moved forward, instinctively protective. With a casual maneuvering of his hand, he separated Lucy from her ex-fiancé and gave Stadler the key, all the while smiling easily. “You know our Lucy,” he said. “She hates to hurt anyone’s feelings, and she’s upset about having to spring our engagement on you like this.” He enclosed her limp hand in his so that her fingers were exposed. Rubbing them against his jaw in a loving gesture, he continued to smile at Stadler. “I told her that you—of all people—would understand how these things happen. You do understand, don’t you?”
Stadler inhaled, lifting his regal, if slightly inadequate, chin. His narrowed glance shifted to Lucy. However, when he opened his mouth to speak, Sareena touched his sleeve. “What’s going on? Why would you care if they got engaged?”
Stadler shot a look at his fiancée, his expression troubled for an instant before he could adjust his face in a tolerant smile. He tweaked her pointed chin. “Ena-pet, you look tired. Perhaps we should rest before luncheon.” He lifted his scrutinizing gaze to Lucy. “We’ll see you later, then?”
She nodded, apparently the only thing she was capable of doing in Stadler’s self-assured presence. She couldn’t recall opening her mouth once since he’d arrived.
Skimming Sareena with an offhand glance, Stadler indicated the stairs. “Come, Ena-pet.”
He headed for the staircase, but was halted by Jack’s hand on his shoulder. “This is a do-it-yourself place. Luggage won’t get up there by itself. Or did you expect the lady to carry all the bags?”
Though Stadler was six feet tall, he was shorter than Jack by three inches. He gave Jack a fleeting glower, then backtracked to retrieve one of the bags. “I apologize, Ena-pet. I’m afraid I’m tired, too. I’ve forgotten my manners.”
Sareena seemed startled, as though she carried bags quite a bit without help. “Uh—thanks, honeybun. My guitar case is on the porch.”
Looking put out, Stadler went outside and grabbed the instrument, then stalked past Jack without glancing his way.
Once the two newest guests had disappeared upstairs, Lucy planted her hands on the reception desk, half-sprawling across it, weak and sick to her stomach. She dragged her gaze to Jack’s. “I can’t do this.”
He seemed to contemplate her for a moment, his features thoughtful. Finally, he lounged against the opposite side of the desk, placing a hand over hers. “You can, Luce. It’s important.”
She closed her eyes, gaining strength from his touch. Inhaling raggedly, she faced the fact that she had to follow through now that the lie had begun. Besides, Stadler deserved a little ego bruising—the mewling, letter-writing cheat! Slipping her hand from beneath Jack’s, she rubbed her eyes, feeling caught between a rock and a hard place. “Okay...” She nodded, letting out a resigned sigh. “What’s next?”
“We play it by ear. Just follow my lead.” His comment was soft-spoken and solemn, drawing her trusting glance.
The strange glimmer she saw in his slumberous eyes had to be a trick of the lighting.
“The twins look wonderful!” Lucy entered Helen’s hospital room and hurried over to the bed, hugging her younger sister. “What are you going to name them?” Before Helen could speak, Lucy reached across her and squeezed Damien’s hand. “Hi, Daddy. How are you feeling?”
He grinned. “My stitches are killing me and I hate the food, but otherwise I’m good.”
Helen laughed, then winced at the discomfort it caused. “Actually, the food’s very tasty. And to answer your first question, we have no idea about names yet. What do you think of Gladiola and Goldenrod?”
Lucy stiffened, staring, not knowing what to say about the dreadful names. Damien’s rich laugh made her realize Helen was joking. “Oh, thank heaven. I know we all have flowers for our middle names, but—there is a limit!” She sank into a nearby chair. “Really, what are you naming them?”
“We don’t know yet,” Damien said, standing. “I’m afraid we need help. I favor political names like Kennedy and Reagan, and Helen likes movie titles like Sabrina and Twister.”
Elissa breezed in with Jack on her arm. “Okay, what did I miss?”
Joining in the fun, Lucy kidded, “We were discussing names for the girls. I think Twister and Hurricane might be nice. They’re unique without being too outrageous. Right, Jack?”
He grinned at her, flashing straight white teeth. “What would you consider outrageous, Luce? Calling them after microbes with megasyllable names—say, for instance, Plasmodiophora brassicae?”
“Why, Jack,” she teased, “that’s really unique.” Placing a hand to her cheek, she pretended to fall into deep thought. “Now what can we call the other one? Everybody think. What rhymes with—Plasmodio what’s-it?”
“Jack, you made that up,” Elissa said with a laugh.
He looked her way. “No, I didn’t. It’s a cabbage fungus.” When his attention returned to Lucy, his smile was playful and elegant at the same time. “You’d be surprised what you can learn in the restaurant business.”
Lucy’s cheeks heated, and she had no idea why. “I’m impressed.”
“Me, too,” Helen chimed in.
Their shared laughter was a pleasant sound generated by a close family. Lucy relished this time of being together. Such moments came so rarely since Helen had married and moved away. And Jack was gone for years at a time. Lucy cherished the experience.
“Well, you all keep right on thinking,” Helen said. “There’s a slight chance something better might come along.”
“I’m hurt,” Jack kidded.
“You should be, wanting to name my beautiful girls after a cabbage fungus.” Helen motioned him over to the bed. “But I forgive you. Now where’s my kiss?”
He cast a roguish glance toward her hovering husband. “Does he bite?”
Damien took a seat in a chair beside his wife’s bed, enfolding her hand in his. “How can I refuse a kiss to the first man my wife ever slept with?”
Jack’s expression grew charmingly shocked. Helen reached out to him, urging him forward. “Damien heard how you let Lucy and me climb into your bed during thunderstorms. Remember?”
“Fondly.” His smile reappearing, Jack gave Helen a kiss on her forehead. “You’re a beautiful mother. But I always knew you would be.”
“Damned beautiful.” Damien shifted in his chair to kiss Helen’s cheek. He whispered something in her ear, and Helen nodded as though urging him to say something. When he sat back, he scanned his blond sister-in-law with a grin. “So, Lucy, how’s the engagement going?”
Lucy felt herself blush and grew tongue-tied.
“Great so far,” Elissa said. “Lunch was interesting, Lucy even managed to talk a little. And she gazed into Jack’s eyes once without turning a neon pink. I’m sure she’ll get better with a little practice.” The redhead took Jack’s hand. “But our boy here is the natural actor. I’d swear he’s really in love with Lucy.” She nuzzled his knuckles against her jaw. “I always knew your bad-boy past would come in handy for us Crosby girls.”
He smiled, and Lucy noticed a vague ruddy tinge to his cheeks. Jack was embarrassed. Her heart went out to him. “Jack’s a good friend,” she said. “Don’t tease him, Elissa. You’re such a troublemaker.”
The redhead spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “Hey, if you’ll remember, this engagement story was Jack’s idea.”
“And how’s Stadler reacting to the news?” Damien asked.
Elissa shook her head. “Who, Mr. Denial?” She paused, looking reflective. “You never met him, did you, Damien?”
“I never had the pleasure.”
“What pleasure?” Helen mumbled, then clamped her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That just slipped out.”
Lucy felt a twinge at her words and automatically defended him. “Stadler can be enchanting and dear.” She gave her baby sister a dark look.
“I said I was sorry.” Helen looked contrite.
Elissa walked behind her sister’s chair and began to rub her shoulders. “You have to stop defending the guy, Lucy. He’s not worth it. Just remember we love you and we want you to be happy.”
“I hope Stadler and his new fiancée don’t leave before they can see our gorgeous baby girls,” Helen said.
“Bite your tongue!” Lucy cried. In the ensuing silence, she realized how rude she’d sounded. She shook her head, aghast at her uncharacteristic show of temper. “I—I don’t know how long I can carry off this lie. The sooner Stadler leaves the better.”
“Your muscles are all knots, honey.” Elissa rubbed and massaged, glancing at Jack. “Do you think— maybe—this trick we decided to play on Stadler is too much for Lucy?”
“You finally figured that out?” Lucy admonished, jumping up. “Fine timing! Now that it’s too late!”
The redhead looked stricken at her sister’s rare explosion of fury. Her lips moved, but no sound came, and her green eyes began to glisten. It was clear from her expression that she finally understood what an ordeal this was for Lucy. Tears shimmered on Elissa’s lower lashes. “Oh—oh, honey, please forgive me. I sometimes forget...” She stopped and swallowed as though trying to steady her voice. “I didn’t understand...”
When Lucy saw how badly her sister felt, she began to hurt right along with her. She knew Elissa well enough to understand that she rarely cried, so her turmoil was deep and real. Unable to stay angry in the face of Elissa’s distress, she rounded the chair and hugged her. “It’s okay, Liss,” she murmured brokenly. “He’ll leave—soon. I can manage.”
Elissa hugged her back, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand.
Damien cleared his throat, sounding uneasy. “So, Jack, how long are you going to be in Branson?”
Lucy was grateful for the subject change.
“I’m not sure,” Jack said. “I have a real-estate man looking at properties for me. I’m thinking of opening a Gallagher’s Bistro here.”

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