The Marriage Bargain
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“I won’t be stuck with you. There’s always annulment.”
The words lashed at her and she fought to keep her voice steady. “By then, you’ll have alienated Candice. She’d never take something that once belong—” She cut herself off. “Not that you really would have, but she’d see it that way. She’d never give you a chance at the homestead.”
“Too late.” His low words sent a shiver through her, and she rushed to make her point.
“Though the Will doesn’t prohibit me from marrying you, I think we both know how Hank will take it if he finds out.” She looked away from him, unable to bear the conflagration in his dark eyes. “This was a foolish idea. Hank wasn’t serious about that Will. He only wrote it to—” she cut herself off, ashamed to reveal the whole truth. “If he lives long enough, he’ll change it anyway. It was a huge imposition to bother you. My apologies.”
She was so scattered suddenly, so profoundly mortified by what she’d done, that she didn’t realize Wes had come around the desk. When his fingers closed around her arm she jumped.
“We can leave for Vegas now. I’ll buy whatever you need when we get there.”
She looked up at him, searching his granite expression for a clue to such tenacity.
The feel of steely strength in his hard fingers sent a flurry of heat and electricity through her that took her breath away. She’d never felt anything like this, and she was both excited and terrified. She shook her head, so dazed and weak-kneed that she felt faint.
“No—”
“We’ll get a lawyer for the prenup. If the old man dies before he can change the will, I want it in writing that you’ll sell me the homestead.”
She shook her head. “But—I’d give it to you.”
“I’ll pay cash. Fair market value.”
He was implacable. Why had she come to this man? It was true, she’d started this, but she wasn’t certain now that she had the courage to finish it. And the biggest reason was Wes Lansing himself. He was too strong for her, too formidable.
“I’m going back to Four C’s, Mr. Lansing. Thank you, but this was a mistake.”
“We made a decision.”
Hallie shook her head. “A decision neither of us can live with. Hank will either die before we can marry or he’ll recover and change the will.”
“I’m willing to risk it.”
“Then we’ll both lose.”
If it was possible, Wes’s features grew more harsh. The hard sparkle in his dark eyes was intimidating. “We could both win. Like I said, you started this. You’re gonna see it through.”
She tried to pull away from him, but his fingers tightened. He rattled her, excited her and scared her half to death. There was a core reason the Corbetts and Lansings had been at war so many years: they were exactly alike. Hank Corbett was harsh, domineering and unforgiving, and Wes Lansing was cut from the same cloth.
Yet in spite of that, she felt herself respond to him. Instinct told her this was something sexual, something so alien in her experience as a female that she didn’t know how to cope with it.
And because she didn’t, she suddenly understood why Wes terrified her. He had the power to do what her grandfather hadn’t quite managed: Wes Lansing could destroy her. She had to find some way to defend herself, some way to stop this.
“Which means, it’s my fault when the bargain goes wrong. No thanks, Lansing.”
She almost couldn’t bear the sharpness in his gaze as it cut over her face. “I’ll take responsibility.”
The vow stunned her. She was always blamed. Why should things be different with him? If anything, it would be worse.
“Is that the truth?” She watched temper surge into his dark eyes. But then, she’d just called his honor into question.
His low voice made it clear. “The first thing you need to learn about me is that I mean what I say.”
She couldn’t tell if he’d meant that as a comfort or a threat.
CHAPTER TWO
THE second thing Hallie learned about Wes Lansing was that he was a despot. Domineering and exacting, with a faint edge of impatience that she sensed more than saw. Before they left Texas, they saw an attorney to draw up the prenuptial agreement that sealed their bargain for the Lansing homestead. They’d also put in writing an agreement that kept either of them from making claim to money or property either of them currently owned or might inherit in the future.
Through it all, Wes seemed to watch every move she made and having so much attention was wearing. She was accustomed to being invisible, so his constant surveillance twisted her nerves so tight that her body felt as taut as piano wire. Her head was pounding by the time their plane touched down in Las Vegas.
In the brisk manner she was quickly coming to expect, Wes ushered her off the jet and through the airport terminal. Unburdened by luggage, they were outside in the Nevada heat far ahead of the swarm of tourists who had packed their flight from Texas. Wes chose the nearest cab and they got in.
Once they’d gotten a marriage license, the afternoon descended into a whirlwind course through the largest shopping mall in Las Vegas. Hours later, they walked out to a waiting cab with the boxes and bags that contained everything Wes decreed was needed for their wedding.
At least she’d paid for her own clothing. Pride dictated it, and a healthy personal bank account made it possible. Neither of them considered the pomp and extravagance of a traditional wedding dress, but she’d ended up buying more than the dress she would wear for the ceremony. Because she owned little more than jeans and work clothes, she took the opportunity to buy three other dresses that appealed to her, along with shoes and lingerie.
Once she’d gone that far, she stopped at a salon where her long hair was shampooed, trimmed, then twisted into a classic style atop her head. She’d even visited a cosmetics counter. Though she’d felt silly letting the clerk talk her into an array of cosmetics, the woman had engineered something of a makeover.
Why had she allowed that?
As Hallie stood in front of the full-length mirror in their hotel suite, she saw her answer in the polished glass.
She no longer looked like a ranch hand; she was a bride. The white linen dress and matching jacket she wore were elegant and sophisticated. The white floppy-brimmed hat that rested stylishly on her upswept hair framed a face that the subtle enhancement of light makeup and lip color had made lovely.
She hadn’t known she could look like this. Hadn’t suspected. The stifling extreme that kept her every word and act under rigid control had also dictated her secret aversion to adopting any manner or look that could even remotely be interpreted as a challenge to Candice. It had meant no makeup, no stylish hairstyles, no feminine clothes. She’d smothered almost every natural desire or instinct that might have invited unpleasant comparisons. Or ridicule.
Wes had given her an excuse to indulge her long repressed instincts and she’d gone a little overboard. He now had a bride who wouldn’t shame him in front of a justice of the peace, but she could never go back to the Four C’s looking like this. After the ceremony, the fine clothing and makeup would come off. Everything she’d bought today would be neatly folded into a box or a bag and the magic would be hidden away in a closet in her bungalow on Four C’s. Because it was essential to keep their marriage secret, she doubted anyone but Wes Lansing would ever see her like this. She struggled against the private pain of that.
His bride was a Corbett. He’d kept that fact firmly in mind all afternoon and he’d watched her closely for any sign of perfidy. At first, he’d seen nothing but a reserved, aloof young woman. But the way her gaze frequently shied from his until she rarely looked his way, made him increasingly suspicious. What were her real motives for marriage?
Wes took this moment to study her as he looked through the open door into the suite’s bedroom. Unaware of him, Hallie stared into the cheval mirror in the corner. The unguarded play of emotion that crossed her face fascinated him. She searched her reflection as if she’d never seen it before. And maybe she hadn’t. He knew instantly that it wasn’t conceit that made her stare at herself, it was surprise. The chic female image in the glass bore no trace of the ranch hand he’d left Texas with.
He read her wistful, almost poignant expression and got a fresh glimpse into what her life had been like. Candice Corbett was a spoiled, selfish little witch. The shy, reclusive Hallie probably suffered enough from her cousin without calling attention to the fact that she was beautiful enough to put Candice in the shade if she’d ever half tried.
What kind of female was Halona Corbett? Why would she put up with the mistreatment of her family years past age eighteen when she could have left home and struck out on her own?
He’d seen the passion in her eyes when she’d said she’d not been able to stand by and do nothing to get Four C’s, and yet instinct told him she’d stayed for more than a ranch. Could she have been so undermined by her upbringing that she didn’t realize that she could go anywhere else and have a better life? Did she have so little self-confidence?
Or did she cling to the ideal of loyalty and duty to family? There was no way to equate family loyalty and duty with her choice to marry into the clan that took up the other side in a generations-long feud. Unless it was part of some new Corbett scheme. Could she be using him in some twisted way to earn her grandfather’s approval?
Halona Corbett was a mystery wrapped in an intriguing package. What had started that afternoon as a daring chance to reclaim the homestead had evolved into much more by nightfall. There was no denying that his instant attraction to her had made her offer of a bargain more compelling, and that his vigilance that day had made him even more aware of her as a woman.
In the end, he had to remember that she’d been raised on morals and values that changed to suit selfish whims. She was a woman who’d been taught from the cradle that dishonesty was permitted if it was carried out with cunning and style.
Which was why he’d insisted on the prenuptial agreement that secured the Lansing homestead and prevented her future claim to Red Thorn. If Hallie turned out to be no different than any other Corbett, he’d have something to take into court.
He stepped into the bedroom to get her attention. God help her if she went back on her word.
Hallie caught sight of Wes in the mirror and was ashamed to be caught looking at herself. Admiring the way she looked. A hot flush spread up her face to her hairline.
Wes was so ruggedly handsome in his severe black three-piece suit that her breath grew unsteady. He looked powerful and unabashedly male, and she felt a peculiar excitement. Something feminine in her had came to vibrant life and she suddenly craved an acknowledgment from him, some sign of male approval from a man so blatantly masculine that his nearness made her heart race.
Her gaze went to Wes’s as if drawn by a magnet. She saw the dark flicker of interest in his eyes, but then it vanished and left her with the sinking feeling that she’d imagined it. To conceal her disappointment, she glanced away from him, self-conscious. She turned from the glass and walked to the dresser where she’d left her handbag. She felt his gaze follow her every move.
Wes’s voice was carefully neutral. “Did you call the hospital?”
“Yes,” she answered quietly. “There’s no change.”
“Still want to go through with this?”
The question made her look over at him. She could tell nothing from his solemn expression. “Do you?”
Wes’s dark gaze narrowed on her face and she felt herself go tense. He was searching again, seeking. How on earth could she go through with a marriage to this man? She felt no more comfortable in his presence now than when she’d walked into his house that afternoon. Though they would never live under the same roof as man and wife, she wasn’t certain she could tolerate the pressure of his occasional presence or the confusion of emotion and sensation he made her feel.
“Some folks will believe you’re betraying blood to marry me.”
His grim words made her heart fall. The guilt that had nagged her all day suddenly blossomed. She thought of the ranch and what it meant to her, then she thought of her family and the cruel words that had driven her to this.
You’ve been a shame on this family since your mama brought you home to me, Hank had said. Bastard’s one thing, but I won’t let a misfit inherit Four C’s.
Her throat thickened with pain. There were only a handful of times in her life that her grandfather had ever spoken kindly to her. And those times he’d been manipulating her.
“Wouldn’t they believe the same of you?” she asked softly.
“They might. But the difference is, Hank raised you and he’s still alive. You owe him for taking you in.”
The familiar frustration began to rise. “He took in Candice, too. I don’t think you’d ask her about family loyalty.”
“I wouldn’t have to. Candice is so loyal to Hank that marrying me would be seen as a scheme to get Red Thorn.” His gaze suddenly sharpened on her face and his voice went dangerously soft.
“If you have anything else in mind but our bargain, any twisted notion that you’re putting me in a situation that Hank can exploit, you need to know that you’re the one who’ll suffer most. You mean nothing to me. Being my legal wife will matter even less.”
Hallie felt something in her heart quiver and shrink in on itself. He meant every word and she had no doubt that he’d be utterly ruthless with her. His judgment would be swift and sweeping. His retaliation would be brutal and calculated to devastate.
She could see that he was already so suspicious of her that one wrong word, one mistaken action could provoke him to act first and check the facts later. She would never think to conspire against him, but how easy would it be for Hank, if he lived long enough to find out, or Candice, to make it look as though she had?
Emotion roared up and sent a stinging fullness into her eyes. She’d been so desperate to get the ranch that she’d blinded herself to the very personal peril Wes Lansing represented. To have him state it so starkly made her feel foolish and hopelessly naive.
She was standing between two ruthless men who placed no value on her above making her a handy target for their displeasure. And perhaps she deserved it for putting herself in range when she was too powerless to fight either of them and win.
Hallie gripped her handbag, then looked away from him before the telling blur in her eyes could spill over and shame her. She set the handbag on the dresser, then reached up to find the hat pin that secured her hat to the mound of locks arranged so artfully atop her head. She must look as ridiculous and pretentious to him as she felt.
She removed the pin and pulled off the hat. Her fingers were trembling as she pushed the pin into the crown to safely anchor it. She managed to keep her voice clear and steady.
“I’ll reimburse you for the plane tickets, the room—everything. If you’ll put a dollar value on your time, I’ll pay you for that, too. I’d appreciate if you kept this confidential.” She paused. “I realize I can’t stop you if you choose to make it public.”
“So this was a setup.” His voice had a deadly edge to it.
Hallie made herself look over at him. His rugged face was the picture of suppressed fury.
“It wasn’t. But you’ve just made me realize how easily I could be set up if my family finds out. I’ve survived my life so far, Mr. Lansing,” she said, then leveled what she considered the ultimate insult. “I won’t put myself at the mercy of a man no better than my grandfather.”
Bad temper blazed in his dark eyes, but Hallie turned away to gently set the stylish hat on the dresser. She held herself with the same stiff dignity that she relied on to maintain her composure, but she wasn’t certain it would save her this time. Her insides were boiling with humiliation and her face felt on fire. It didn’t help that her legs felt heavy and her knees were weak. She’d lost her chance.
But now that she had, she forced herself to focus on the thought that this was the beginning of her new life. There would be no Hank Corbetts in it and no Wes Lansings. She’d never have Four C’s, but she wouldn’t have to take the terrible risk of marrying a stranger—a family enemy—to get it.
The moment Wes stepped out of the room, she could close the door and shut him out. She could recover in the privacy and solitude that were so dismally familiar to her. He would leave the suite, but she could stay here. Maybe she’d stay the night. She’d be paying for it. She always paid.
Wes’s voice was low and rough. “We’re strangers to each other, Miz Corbett.”
Hallie glanced warily at him and tried to read his stern expression. His face was far less harsh now, and the dark fire in his eyes had faded.
“If I’ve misjudged you, I apologize.”
She looked at him gravely. “I’m not smart enough or brave enough to be part of any scheme against you that I’m aware of. If my grandfather is manipulating either of us beyond what is obvious in that Will, I’m not a party to it. Nor would I be.”
He stared at her for long moments and again, it seemed as if all the intensity he was capable of was focused on her. Those moments were almost unbearable, but she tolerated them. He was weighing her by her words, measuring what he could see in her to make up his mind. It felt as if he were examining every atom and circuit in her brain.
It was rare to meet someone who mistrusted her almost as deeply as she mistrusted others. Strangely, it made her feel less guarded, less threatened to know that someone as powerful as Wes Lansing thought she might have the potential to injure him somehow. At last, he spoke.
“If we marry, your loyalty belongs to me.”
His demand didn’t really surprise her, but she felt a prickle of anger. “What about your loyalty, Lansing? Will it belong to me?”
The firm line of his mouth went stern. He must not have expected that. And he didn’t appear happy about it, either. He wasn’t accustomed to giving an inch to anyone, and it probably rankled to contemplate the notion.
“Because if we marry,” she went on, “I think that entitles both of us to equal expectations. If you expect loyalty from me, I expect just as much from you. The fact that the marriage is secret makes no difference.”
He gave her a narrow look that hinted he was reassessing her in some way. He confirmed the impression with his next words.
“You’re a surprise.” His dark gaze released hers to move slowly down the length of her. The bold stroke sent a warm shiver through her. His gaze returned to hers and she struggled to appear unaffected. “I’m not sure yet if I like it.”
Hallie had no reply to that so she kept silent, enduring the tension between them while she fought to withstand it.
“I do like the hat,” he said finally. “If you’ll marry me, I’d like to see you wear it.”
His low words sent a poignant ache through her. However small a remark it was, whether he’d meant it to be or not, it was somehow a validation of the pains she’d taken to look like a bride.
“If you’re sure.” Her voice had choked to a whisper and she cringed inwardly. She hated that she’d revealed that much.
Wes slipped a finger into the vest pocket of his black suit and stepped toward her. Her breath caught as he reached for her left hand and lifted it between them.
She was so surprised that she almost stepped back, but just that quickly, he lightly singled out her ring finger and slid on a diamond ring. A whirl of sensation spiraled through her. His big fingers tightened gently on her hand as she stared down at it in disbelief.
The diamond sparkled and the gold band it was mounted on caught the suite lights. It fit perfectly.
A huge swell of emotion surged up and left her shaken. She hadn’t thought about rings. Theirs wasn’t a true marriage where rings were called for to signify unending love and eternal commitment.
“I can’t wear this,” she whispered. She couldn’t wear the beautiful engagement ring, she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t take her eyes from it. And she couldn’t keep her heart from breaking over the gesture. “Please…take it off.”
“It’s tradition.”
“This isn’t a real marriage. It’s enough of a sacrilege to marry for—for the reasons we are,” she got out hastily.
His fingers tightened gently, prompting her to look up at him. “Does it bother you to marry to get a piece of land?”
She couldn’t bear the new sharpness in his dark eyes and her gaze fled his as she gave a small nod. She pulled her hand from his and immediately took hold of the ring to take it off. “Of course it bothers me.”
He caught her hands before she could remove the ring.
“It’ll be public knowledge when he dies and it comes out that you fulfilled the Will’s requirements.”
Hallie looked up at him urgently. “But he can’t find out before he…” Suddenly she couldn’t say the word.
Wes’s dark brows lowered in disapproval. “I’m not much for secrets. He knows he threw down the gauntlet with that Will. If he lives, how long do you think you can keep your marriage from him? How good an actress will you have to be to quiet his suspicions?” He paused and his voice lowered. “How many lies are you capable of telling to keep him from changing the Will?”
Hallie managed to pull her hands from the steely warmth of his. The tingly heat they generated had added a distressing dimension to his disturbing words.
“Then going through with the marriage is futile.”
“We knew that was the risk. We decided to marry because it’s worth taking a chance.” His stern mouth gentled and one corner turned up in a half smile. “And we came to take our chance in a city known for high-stakes gambling and quick marriages.”
Hallie looked away. Everything had seemed so simple hours ago. She’d been so hurt, so angry and torn up over the cruelty of Hank’s will that she hadn’t completely considered the full consequences of this rash act.
“If Hank lingers and it comes out,” he went on, “there are certain marriage traditions I want people to know we observed. Rings are one.”
“Everyone will know it wasn’t a traditional marriage,” she said quietly. “And it will be annulled right away.”
She’d have enough to live down over the annulment. She didn’t want to give anyone the impression that she’d had any sort of hope for a real future with Wes.
She shook her head. “The ring is too symbolic.” Again she started to take off the beautiful ring, but his hands again caught hers.
“Then don’t wear it at home,” he said sternly. “But you’ll wear it here. And the wedding band that goes with it.”
Hallie looked up at him, about to protest, but he cut her off.
“It’s getting late. If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to get it done. I made plans for ten o’clock, and it’s nine-thirty now.”
Her throat spasmed closed in alarm. They’d delayed long enough. The longer the delay, the more reservations she had about going through with it. In the end, it was the craving to inherit Four C’s that made her force away her growing misgivings and give a small, stiff nod.
“All right.”
As if those strangled words were the pistol shot that started a race, her heart burst into a panicked rhythm. Wes stood nearby while she got the hat and pinned it on with fingers that seemed abnormally clumsy. Then he whisked her out of the suite so quickly that he made her head spin.
Did Wes realize he was torturing her?
Hallie had trouble meeting the minister’s eyes. She was excruciatingly aware that Wes had not taken her to one of the many wedding chapels in Las Vegas; he’d taken her to a real church, with an ordained minister.
The church was large and a sacred atmosphere permeated every inch of it, including the small prayer chapel they were standing in. This was no secular ceremony before a justice of the peace or one in a commercial chapel where a lineup of brides and grooms waited to be married. This was a real church, and there was no way to ignore the fact that they were pledging vows before God.