THE TEXAS TATTLER

All the news that’s barely fit to print!

CONFESSION!

M ayhem ripped through Red Rock, Texas, late yesterday when Clint Lockhart revealed a sinister secret. The Double Crown ranch hand and brother-in-law to Ryan Fortune confessed to murdering Sophia Fortune and framing Lily Cassidy, fiancée to Ryan, for the hideous crime.

Lockhart delivered another earth-shattering revelation: he and Sophia, estranged wife of Ryan, had masterminded the kidnapping of Bryan Fortune in an evil get-rich-quick scheme. But their hired thugs stole the wrong baby—the child now cared for by Matthew and Claudia Fortune, little toddling Taylor. Tragically, baby Bryan’s disappearance and whereabouts remain a mystery. Looks as if the locked-up Lockhart is in for a dose of justice—Texas style….

An exuberant Lily Cassidy was cleared of all charges soon after Lockhart’s guilt was disclosed. She and Ryan are planning a rush marriage—nothing like shedding prison stripes for white satin!

Even in the midst of tragedy and media chaos…romance sparks. Every-girl’s-dream-man Zane Fortune has plucked Gwen Hutton, struggling single mom, from obscurity—and is parading her around town as his fiancée! Is this setup too quick-’n’-easy to be the real deal…or are Zane’s true feelings as nuclear as those oh-so-public kisses…?

About the Author

JACKIE MERRITT

is still writing, just not with the speed and constancy of years past. She and her husband are living in southern Nevada again, falling back on old habits of loving the long, warm or slightly cool winters and trying almost desperately to head north for the months of July and August, when the fiery sun bakes people and cacti alike.

Hired Bride
Jackie Merritt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Meet the Fortunes of Texas

Zane Fortune: The marriage-shy executive needed a pretend fiancée to outsmart his family’s matchmaking plans. Would Zane’s scheme backfire and have him setting his sights on his hired bride becoming his real-life wife?

Gwen Hutton: The single mother had her hands full raising her three young children—she didn’t need her charming rogue boss reminding her how it felt to be a woman…or did she?

Baby Bryan: His whereabouts have been a mystery for months. And law enforcement officials are hoping that some new leads they’ve uncovered will help them crack the case of the century.

Ryan Fortune: The patriarch has steadfastly held the family together during their time of turmoil. Dare he hope that he will be reunited with his grandson and that he will soon marry his lady love Lily?

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

One

“Z ane, I’m so sorry to leave you hanging like this, but I have to fly to Fort Worth this weekend. My sister Glenda just phoned, and our mother is in the hospital again. Apparently she’s had another heart attack. Glenda said Mother’s doctors told her that the attack was rather mild, but Mother is frightened and wants her children around her. I know I promised to attend Mr. Malone’s wedding with you this weekend, but as things stand now I have to back out. I hope you understand.”

Zane Fortune was seated behind his massive mahogany desk, and given his secretary’s plaintive expression and his own compassion for anyone in danger of losing a parent, he had no choice but to say, “Heather, of course I understand. Don’t give it another thought. In fact, leave today.” It was Friday afternoon, and he certainly could manage without Heather for one afternoon, even if she was his right arm at the office.

Zane was executive director of marketing at Fortune TX, Ltd. It was a title of no small importance as the corporation’s ventures were so diversified—real estate development, plastics, computer manufacturing, to name a few—that marketing was a high-priority department. Zane headed a team of marketing experts that were the best to be had, and not just in Texas, either.

Heather was a calming influence for Zane when things got hectic in his department. She was a top-notch secretary who could juggle a dozen important jobs at the same time without becoming unhinged, or even ruffled. Zane felt very fortunate to have Heather Moore for his private secretary, and he would do just about anything to keep her happy with her job. “Really, Heather, I mean it. Leave right away. And please take all the time you need.”

“Thank you, Zane. I was hoping you’d say that,” Heather murmured. “I checked your calendar, and the rest of your day is relatively free.” She laid the papers she’d been holding on Zane’s desk. “If you’ll sign these letters, I’ll put them in the mail before I leave.”

Zane scanned the letters he’d dictated that morning and scrawled his name on each of them. He handed them back with a kindly, “I sincerely hope your mother recovers, Heather.” Zane’s own mother had died when he was sixteen, and every so often that awful, empty sense of loss would still sneak up on him.

“Thank you. From what Glenda told me, I’m sure she will.” Heather took the letters and added quietly, “This time.” She brightened her countenance. “I’ll see you on Monday, Zane. I left a list of Fort Worth phone numbers on my desk, just in case you should need to talk to me during the weekend.”

“Thanks, Heather.” Watching his secretary hurry out, Zane sat back in his chair and frowned. He’d been counting on Heather’s company during the upcoming weekend to throw his matchmaking sisters and sisters-in-law a curve. For some reason the women in his vast family had decided it was time he settled down, and lately they had started parading their single female friends in front of him with what Zane believed was a hope that he would be struck dumb by Cupid’s arrow.

It wasn’t Zane’s nature to tell them with unequivocal conviction to lay off so he’d come up with the idea of attending the most current get-together—the wedding of his friends Parker Malone and Hannah Cassidy—with an attractive woman on his arm. The members of his family knew that Heather was his secretary, of course, but he had explained his predicament to Heather and she had agreed to put on a little show for any of the Fortunes who might be interested in Zane’s love life, to act as though their relationship had gone beyond what it really was. As attractive as Heather was, she’d had a steady boyfriend for a long time, and her relationship with Zane was strictly business.

Now he’d have to go to Parker’s wedding alone, Zane thought with a put-upon sigh. He’d come up with Heather as his date because she wouldn’t have read anything into his plan that he hadn’t intended, whereas the ladies in his little black book might get all sorts of ideas from a weekend affair with the Fortunes. Why couldn’t the females in his family just leave him be? So what if he was the only unmarried child of Ryan Fortune, the last holdout? His brothers Matthew and Dallas were married, as were his sisters Victoria and Vanessa. But was his bachelor status anyone’s business but his own?

Memories suddenly assailed Zane, and his frown deepened. He had almost reached the altar himself one time, with a beautiful young woman, Melanie Wilson. Melanie had changed her mind at the last minute—declaring with a pretty pout that she just wasn’t ready to settle down—and, ever since, Zane had been very cautious with his feelings. He liked women, he enjoyed their company, but he rarely dated the same woman more than a few times.

Women liked him. Zane knew that he’d broken more than one female heart in and around San Antonio, but the second that he felt a woman was looking for more than friendship or an affaire d’amour, he dropped her. He wasn’t particularly proud of his track record, but he simply could not bring himself to behave any other way. Commitment was a serious step; he’d taken it once and gotten badly burned. It was an experience he didn’t wish to repeat.

Pulling himself out of the past, Zane made a few business calls, then decided to quit for the day. He rarely left the office early, but it had been a rough week, so today he’d go home, change into comfortable clothes and while away the rest of the day in quiet relaxation. It would be a pleasant change of pace. He might even be able to stop resenting his matchmaking family for a few hours. The weekend wedding celebration was, after all, scheduled to begin tomorrow, and now he wasn’t looking forward to it at all. Damn shame too, because he had been, until Heather backed out.

After making one more phone call to let David Hancock—the person who acted as marketing director when Zane was out of the office—know that he was leaving for the day, Zane took his briefcase and departed.

During the elevator ride to the first floor, Zane checked his watch. It was only a little after two, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d left that early without a darn good reason. Today he had no reason at all, merely a disquietude in his gut. He actually thought of faking illness—a bout with the flu would be enough—and calling Parker to tell his friend that even if he happened to feel a little better in the morning, he shouldn’t be spreading germs at the wedding. Parker would be disappointed, of course, but Zane could almost hear him saying, “Hell, man, stay in bed and get well. If you can’t make it, you can’t make it.”

In the parking garage, Zane loosened his tie and walked to his car. During the drive to Kingston Estates, the upscale community where his large, beautiful home was located, he changed his mind fifty times. One minute, he knew that he had to attend the wedding; the next, he knew that he’d have such a miserable time avoiding all the traps set by his sisters and sisters-in-law that he could hardly bear thinking about the weekend.

Zane loved his big family, but sometimes they drove him up the wall. One or more of them also worried the hell out of him at times, but other than the unsolved kidnapping of his nephew Bryan, the child of Matthew and Claudia, Zane’s brother and sister-in-law, things had pretty much settled down in the family. It sure had been a mess for a while, though, what with his father’s fiancée, Lily Cassidy, having been charged with the murder of Ryan’s second wife, Sophia, whom he’d been trying to divorce, so he could marry Lily. Zane couldn’t believe they’d discovered the real murderer was his uncle—Clint Lockhart. But with Clint in custody, Lily had been exonerated, and even while her daughter Hannah had been planning her own wedding to Parker, she had been working on preparations for Ryan and Lily’s wedding as well. From what Zane had heard thus far, it was going to be a very special occasion.

So Hannah was going to be Zane’s stepsister, which made her and Parker’s upcoming wedding no trivial event. Zane knew he should be there, in spite of the personal misgivings that cast a dark shadow on the affair. He was only twenty-nine years old, for crying out loud, certainly not so old that Claudia and his sisters should take up a crusade to get him married. The whole thing just rubbed him wrong, no matter how he looked at it.

Disgruntled and out of sorts because he couldn’t seem to reach a decision he felt he could live with, Zane finally pulled into the wide circular driveway of his home and parked at the front door. Fat lot of relaxing he’d be doing with this problem on his mind he thought cynically as he got out of the car.

Taking his mail from the mailbox, he unlocked his front door and stepped into the elegant foyer. Zane’s Australian shepherd, Alamo, always greeted him at the door, no matter what time of day or night he came home. But today he wasn’t there. Then Zane heard Alamo barking and running through the house, toe-nails clicking on tile, obviously a little late today, but on his way, nevertheless.

Alamo suddenly rounded a corner and, barking happily and loudly, took a flying leap at his master. Zane recoiled, because the dog was dripping water and soapsuds, and now he was wet and soapy, as well. Or rather, his expensive tailor-made suit was.

He had only a second to think about it before a young woman skidded and slid around the same corner, shouting, “Alamo! Darn it, what’s wrong with you today?” At the sight of Zane standing there, her eyes got big and she ground to a halt, mumbling, “Uh, you’re Zane Fortune.”

Zane wasn’t exactly polite. “If you count Alamo, that makes three of us who know who I am. What I’d like to know is who are you, and what in hell is going on in here?” he growled. However unnerving this little scenario was, Zane couldn’t help admiring the figure defined behind the sopping wet T-shirt and old jeans. Whoever she was, she had a drop-dead body. Her face, even crimson with embarrassment, was startlingly pretty, and her long, sun-streaked light brown hair, though flying every which way, was fabulous.

The lady obviously got her wits together because she lifted her chin almost defiantly and said, “I’m Gwen Hutton. I was bathing Alamo, and he must have heard you come in because he suddenly jumped out of the tub. I tried to hold him back, which is why I’m so soggy, but he got away from me, and now you’re all wet too. I hope your suit isn’t ruined.”

Alamo tried to climb Zane’s legs, and Zane issued a quiet command. “Down, boy.” The dog instantly obeyed and lay with his nose on his front paws.

“Let me get this straight,” Zane said. “You’re the person who’s been bathing my dog for the past several months?”

“Among other things, yes,” Gwen replied evenly. “Your secretary, Heather Moore, employed my company, Help-Mate, to do some of the things you apparently don’t have time to do yourself.”

“Never even heard of a company called Help-Mate.”

“Yes, well, as I said, I’ve been dealing with your secretary.” Gwen was catching on to Zane Fortune’s interest in her wet T-shirt. Maybe more unsettling than that, though, was finally standing face-to-face with a man she’d known only through photographs, which wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans if she hadn’t thought him to be the best-looking guy she’d ever seen.

Actually, the photos she’d run across in his house and in the society pages of the newspaper didn’t do him justice. He really was too handsome to be believed, with his perfect features, dark blond hair and electric-blue eyes. And he was taller than she’d expected, at least six feet tall, with broad shoulders and an athletically lean build.

Small wonder he had such a fast reputation, Gwen thought with an inner sigh. Any man who looked like this probably had to beat women off with a stick.

“And you have a key to my house?” Zane asked.

“I’m licensed and bonded, Mr. Fortune, and there is no way I could do what I do without having access to a client’s home.” Gwen plucked the wet fabric of her T-shirt away from her chest, hoping it wouldn’t immediately adhere to her body again. Zane Fortune couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off her bosom, and she knew that her nipples were showing right through her bra and T-shirt.

“Uh, what else do you do besides bathe dogs?” Zane was getting a glimmer of an idea, but he needed to know more about Gwen Hutton before advancing it.

“For you, or for clients in general?”

“For clients in general.”

“Mr. Fortune, I’m very willing to discuss my company with you, but don’t you think you should get a towel or something and at least try to save your suit?”

“Forget the suit. Tell me about your company. And let’s get out of the foyer. I’d like something cold to drink, so let’s continue this discussion in the kitchen.”

“I really should finish bathing Alamo.”

“Makes sense. Tell you what. I’ll go and change clothes, and you finish up with Alamo. Then we’ll meet in the kitchen and have a cold drink together.”

Gwen took a look at her waterproof watch. “I have another appointment in about thirty minutes, so I don’t have a lot of time to spare.”

Zane grinned, and Gwen’s heart actually skipped a beat at the sight of his incredible smile and snowy white teeth.

She instantly chided herself for such a foolish reaction to a simple smile. What the heck is wrong with you? He’s a client, and even if he wasn’t, he is not your kind of man. He’s filthy rich and probably spoiled rotten, and he is exactly the sort of man that a decent, hardworking woman should stay completely away from.

“I’m sure you can squeeze a ten-minute conversation into your busy schedule,” Zane said as he started away. “Meet you in the kitchen.”

“Come on, Alamo,” Gwen said with a frown caused by what had sounded like amusement in Fortune’s comment. If he thought her dedication to duty was funny, then there was no way she could even let herself like him as a person. She was a widow with three small children to support, definitely not a laughing matter. In fact, she would bet anything that she put in more hours a day to earn a living than Zane Fortune did.

Of course, he didn’t need to earn a living. Everyone in this part of Texas knew that the Fortunes had been wealthy for generations. Actually, Gwen had to give Zane points for working at all, when he could simply slide through life on old money, should he choose. Still, she and everybody else knew that executives in large companies had it pretty cushy, what with golf and tennis games during working hours, two-hour lunch breaks and secretaries up the kazoo to do the real work.

Well, that was none of her business she told herself while urging Alamo back into the tub so she could rinse away the soapsuds clinging to his coat. She worked fast, and when the suds were gone she turned the dog into the massive indoor pool room so he could shake away the water to his heart’s content without spreading it all over the house.

When Gwen first started her business, she’d been in awe of some of the homes belonging to wealthy clients. For instance, Zane Fortune’s home had two swimming pools, one outside and one inside. It had a tennis court and a putting green, and the grounds were lavishly landscaped. The house itself was a dream, contemporary in style, very large and professionally decorated.

Now, after almost a year of visiting luxury homes to do various chores, Gwen still admired but was no longer awestruck. She would never rub elbows with San Antonio’s rich and famous, and it didn’t bother her a bit. Her entire life was focused on her kids, on earning enough money to give them the necessities in the present and on trying very hard to save some for their future. It seemed, however, that whenever she accumulated any amount of cash, something came up that forced her to spend it. Gwen often worried about how she would pay for a college education for each of her children.

With handfuls of paper towel, she hurriedly wiped up the puddles left by Alamo during his race to the front door. She also used paper towels on herself, sopping up some of the water from her clothes. Untying the ribbon that held her hair back from her face—or was supposed to—she finger-combed straying strands back into place and retied the ribbon. She had just finished doing what she could to make herself more presentable when Zane returned to the kitchen. He was wearing baggy gray sweatpants, a mismatched blue top and old tennis shoes without socks.

His apparel surprised Gwen. Now he looked very much as she did. No, that wasn’t true. He was still so handsome that she found it difficult to look directly at him. It was a discomfiting feeling, one she didn’t much care for. Men didn’t daunt her, for Pete’s sake. Not normally, they didn’t.

“Oh, good, you’re still here,” Zane said, and he opened the refrigerator door. “So, what would you like to drink?”

“Nothing, Mr. Fortune, but thank you. I really don’t have the time to—”

“I’m only asking for a few minutes, Gwen. And for heaven’s sake, darlin’, call me Zane. Now, how about an orange juice? Or a soda?”

That darlin’ had rolled off his tongue so smoothly that it never occurred to Gwen that Zane might mean something by it. And obviously, he wasn’t going to let her leave without his “ten-minute” discussion, though she couldn’t imagine what he wanted to talk to her about. Unless there was something else he would like her to be doing for him as Help-Mate. He was a client, after all.

“All right,” she said, giving in gracefully, though she should already have left this house and been on her way to her next appointment. “I’ll have a bottle of water, if you have it.”

“Sure do.” Zane took their drinks from the refrigerator and let the door swing shut. “Let’s sit down.” He carried her water and his orange juice to the table. “Would you like a glass?”

“The bottle is fine, thanks.” Gwen took the chair that was directly across the table from the one Zane chose. He loosened the bottle cap and handed her the water.

Immediately she was uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. He seemed to be trying to see beneath her skin. What was he hoping to do, read her mind? She certainly had no secrets. This whole meeting struck her as strange.

“Tell me what you do for your company,” Zane said.

Gwen frowned. “I’m not sure I understand what you’d like to know.”

“I’d like to know the scope of your duties. Besides bathing dogs, what else do you do?”

“Aren’t you aware of the other things I do for you?”

Zane sat back, thought a moment, then looked slightly startled. “I think I’m beginning to get the picture. Besides bathing Alamo, you’re the person who’s been cleaning my house, tending to my laundry and dry cleaning, buying my groceries, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Yes, there are a number of etceteras,” Gwen said dryly. “With most of my clients, to be honest. Help-Mate was designed to assist busy people with chores they have no time to do themselves. Things a wife or husband might do if the client had a spouse with extra time.”

“Are all of your clients unmarried?” Zane asked, and took a swallow of his orange juice while looking into Gwen Hutton’s lovely blue-gray eyes.

Her gaze didn’t waver, though she did wonder why he kept looking at her so intently. “A few of them are married, or living with someone, but most are single.”

“Like me.” Zane took a breath, and Gwen sensed it was a preamble to something—probably his reason for delaying her departure. “Gwen,” he said, “I have a problem, and I think you just might be the answer.”

She became wary, concerned about the personal note she heard in his voice, but she said slowly, “I’m listening.”

“I’m going to ask you something, and I hope you won’t be offended, but have you ever done any escorting?”

Her eyes widened, and she started to get up from her chair. “Mr. Fortune, if I’ve given you any reason to think—”

Holding up a hand, Zane broke in. “I’m not suggesting anything immoral or illegal. Please don’t rush into an erroneous opinion before you give me a chance to explain my question.”

Gwen slowly sank back to the chair. “All right,” she said flatly. “Explain.” And make it good, because if you don’t I’ll be crossing you off my client list! It wasn’t a pleasant thought. She needed every client she had worked so hard to obtain. Spent money to obtain, as a matter of fact. Advertising was costly, and she was always grateful when a potential new customer mentioned phoning Help-Mate because he or she had seen one of her little ads.

“What I’m going to propose to you is a simple business arrangement. I need an attractive lady to escort to a wedding this weekend. I realize there are women for hire out there, but I wouldn’t insult my family and friends in that manner. Here’s the situation. The females in my family have decided that I should be married, or at least committed to one woman. They have taken it upon themselves to find me a wife, and I know that there’ll be at least a dozen unmarried women at that wedding just waiting to pounce on me.”

“Why don’t you just tell the females in your family to leave you alone?” Gwen asked, suspicion and distrust in every syllable. She had never heard a more lame story in her life. If that was Zane Fortune’s favorite line, it was a wonder he got anywhere with decent women. The thing was, she enjoyed reading the society section of the newspaper and knew that Zane did attract decent women. So what, really, was this all about?

Zane heaved a sigh. “I wish I could do that. Actually, I’ve tried to do that, but it never comes off the way I’d like it to. My sisters think I’m kidding around with them, they kid back and the whole thing falls apart.

“Anyway, I came up with an idea to at least get me through the weekend relatively unscathed. Heather, my secretary, was going to attend the wedding with me, and we were going to lead everyone to believe that she and I had become an item. It’s not true, of course. Heather’s practically engaged. But she agreed to help me out, and then today she received a phone call from her sister in Fort Worth. Their mother is in the hospital, and naturally Heather had to go and see her.”

“And you…you’d like me to take her place?” Gwen was still guarded, but she was beginning to believe that Zane wasn’t handing her a line.

“Exactly. I’m not asking you to give up your weekend for nothing, Gwen. I’ll pay you a thousand dollars if you go to that wedding with me and act as though we are very good friends.”

She managed not to gasp, but she couldn’t prevent a weakly parroted, “A thousand dollars?”

“Make it two thousand,” Zane said quickly, reading her reaction as reluctance. “This is important to me, Gwen, and I’m willing to pay for two days of your time. Is two thousand enough?”

“Uh…yes. Two thousand is, uh, sufficient.” Was accepting money for spending time with a man immoral, even though she would be committing no definitively immoral acts? Goodness knows, she could use the money. She lived from day to day, working herself into an early grave to make ends meet, always with that nagging worry about her children’s future. With a windfall of two thousand dollars…well, there was so much she could do with it, she really wouldn’t know where to start.

But just what did Zane Fortune expect for so much money?

She said what she’d been thinking, keeping her voice at an even pitch though her pulse was racing. “Before I give you an answer, Mr. Fortune, tell me exactly what you expect for your money.”

Two

R amona Garcia was two things to Gwen—a reliable, loving baby-sitter and a good friend. The baby-sitting had come first, and the friendship had developed because Ramona and Gwen had so much in common. Very close in age, they were both widows with small children—Ramona had two little ones and Gwen had three. In one way, however, Ramona was more fortunate than Gwen. Ramona’s husband had left her a sizable insurance policy, which, while it didn’t make her a wealthy woman, certainly made her life easier than Gwen’s. Ramona had invested the insurance money in an annuity with monthly draws, and she supplemented that income with childcare in her own home. When Gwen became a steady customer, Ramona stopped taking in other children. At that point her income had become satisfactory.

Gwen had often asked herself why she had permitted her husband Paul to procrastinate on buying life insurance, but in her heart she knew the answer to that question as well as she knew anything: Paul simply had not been a worrier or a planner. Like many people with happy-go-lucky personalities, Paul had enjoyed today and rarely thought of tomorrow.

At any rate, Gwen had been left with a mortgaged house, two cars and a boat with monthly payments, and no income beyond a modest monthly social security check. If her parents hadn’t helped her out financially after Paul’s fatal accident, Gwen would have lost the little she did have. Her father had stepped in and sold the boat and one of the cars, eliminating two of her debts, and he had made the payments on her mortgage and the other car for two months. By then Gwen had pulled herself together and faced her situation; she could not live off her folks indefinitely. It was time she shaped up and started supporting herself.

Her biggest hurdle to finding a job that paid enough to support herself was her lack of training. Before meeting Paul, she had been in college to become an art teacher, and though she was talented in many art forms, there weren’t a lot of jobs for wannabe artists out there. She had wished many times that she had the abilities to work as a secretary, but wishes didn’t produce income. She had begun working two and three minimum-wage jobs at a time and still never made enough money to keep her head above water. Besides, with that kind of work schedule she’d rarely seen her kids, and she’d hated it that strangers were raising Mindy, Ashley and Donnie.

Her next attempt to pay her own way had been to quit all of her jobs and start a home business. She had shopped yard and garage sales and bought things that she could fix up and sell for a higher price. She had a natural knack for spotting a good piece of furniture hiding beneath layers of old paint, and the best part of that business was that whenever she left the house, her kids could go with her. She made money too, but it wasn’t steady money, and after a few months she’d finally had to admit that what she was doing could only be a sideline venture. She had to come up with something that brought in money on a regular basis.

By that time her garage was crammed with furniture that needed restoring, and she usually worked at night, after the kids were in bed, finishing pieces that could then be sold. During those quiet hours Gwen had racked her brain for a solution to her financial quandary, and gradually the concept of Help-Mate had taken shape. It had excited her.

Getting the company started had taken time and money; the time she could provide herself, but not the money, and she had approached her parents for a loan. Jack and Lillian Lafferty had thought her idea a good one, and had agreed to loan her the money to get started. Gwen had vowed to pay back every cent her generous parents had ever given or loaned to her, and now, a year later, she was trying very hard to keep that vow. Some of the two thousand that she would receive from Zane Fortune was going to them.

After completing her appointments on that fateful day, Gwen drove to Ramona’s house to pick up her kids.

Ramona met her at the door, and her expressive dark eyes became concerned. “Gwen, you look so tired. Come in and sit down for a few minutes. The kids are playing in the backyard and are fine.”

Gwen followed her friend to the kitchen, and Ramona brought two glasses of iced tea to the table before asking, “Gwen, is something wrong? You look a little pale around the gills.”

Sighing, Gwen took a drink of her tea. “I agreed to do something today that’s been bothering me ever since.” She stared broodingly out the kitchen window and watched her kids and Ramona’s running and playing in the fenced yard. She was incredibly lucky to have found Ramona, and they were both lucky because their kids got along so well.

Ramona sat down and sipped her own tea. Finally she said, “Well, are you going to tell me what you did, or are you going to just sit there and let me die of curiosity?”

That brought a smile to Gwen’s lips. Ramona was a very pretty young woman, but like herself, Ramona hadn’t dated since her husband’s death. They talked about men every so often, though, and both of them felt the same way. Their kids came first, but if some really great guy should stumble into their lives, neither of them was against a second marriage. However, they weren’t actively seeking a man, and sometimes they giggled together over some guy’s bumbling efforts to make time with one or the other of them.

Gwen was grateful that she had a friend like Ramona, someone in whom she could confide her innermost thoughts. Today she definitely needed to do some confiding.

“I’m sure you recall my mentioning that Zane Fortune is one of my clients,” Gwen said quietly.

“Yes. What about it?”

“I met him today.”

Ramona’s eyes got big. “You did? Is he as good-looking in person as he appears to be in photos?”

“He’s even better looking in person. But that’s neither here nor there, Ramona. He asked me to do something that…” Gwen frowned, then went on. “He offered me two thousand dollars to attend a wedding with him this weekend.”

“You’re kidding!” Ramona frowned too. “Why on earth would Zane Fortune have to pay a woman for a date?”

Gwen groaned. “You just hit the nail on the head. I agreed to take money for going out with a man. Ramona, there are names for women who do that.”

“Oh, but surely he doesn’t expect…” Ramona’s voice trailed off, and she weakly added, “Does he?”

“I asked him point-blank what he expected for his money, and he made it sound… Well, let me explain how this all came about.” Gwen related the incident with Alamo, then how Zane Fortune had offered her the business deal.

“He said that the most I would have to do was to act a bit love-struck, and maybe hold his hand.”

Ramona sat back, appearing dumbfounded. “That is the strangest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” Gwen agreed. “I asked him why he didn’t simply tell his female relatives that he didn’t want a wife, and he said that he’d tried but never quite made the grade. Apparently he doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Ramona, I admit that I saw dollar signs when I agreed to his request, and you know how badly I need the money, but would I be selling myself? It’s been driving me crazy since the moment I left his house.”

Ramona held up her hands. “Let’s look at it this way. You’re in the service business, and wouldn’t this just be another service? Gwen, with his looks, position and money, Zane Fortune could have any woman he wanted. I don’t think he would have to pay for any sort of hanky-panky. But if he is one of those men who does pay for it, wouldn’t he go to a professional?”

“I…suppose so. Actually, I’m not worried about his motives or morality, I’m worried about mine. Just how far would I go for money? There has to be a point where a decent woman says no. Did I go past that point today by agreeing to accept money for two days of my time?”

“Two days?”

“Yes,” Gwen said with another sigh. “It’s a two-day wedding party at the Fortunes’ Double Crown Ranch. Big doings, apparently. Nothing at all like any event I’ve ever attended.”

“It might be fun,” Ramona exclaimed, startling her friend. “Gwen, you haven’t done anything just for fun since you lost your husband. I think you should stop worrying, and go to that wedding and enjoy yourself.”

“You really feel that way?”

“Yes, I do. Gwen, you know you’re a respectable woman and so do I. Apparently Mr. Fortune wants an uninvolved escort, and since he talked about needing an attractive woman to play the part, I think he paid you a very nice compliment. And as you said, you could certainly use the money. I believe that if you turn down his proposal, you’ll regret it for a very long time.”

“I have thought of that,” Gwen said. “Maybe I just needed a pep talk. Usually I’m pretty optimistic and open to new ideas, but this one really threw me for a loop. Are you sure you approve?”

“Of course I approve. Now, let’s do something else fun and figure out what clothes you should take with you.”

Before they discussed clothes, Gwen needed to ask one more question. “Will you be able to watch my kids for the whole weekend? I’ll pay double, Ramona.”

“I’ll watch the kids and you don’t have to pay me double, for heaven’s sake. In fact, let’s call this weekend a trade-off with no money involved.” Ramona grinned. “Maybe something exciting will happen to me one of these days, and I’ll need a baby-sitter.”

Gwen smiled. “You’ve got yourself a deal, my friend.”

Gwen was glad she had talked to Ramona about Zane Fortune’s proposition. If nothing else, it had made her realize that the issue of her own morality hadn’t been the cause of her reluctance at all. She’d never been a Goody Two-shoes, after all. She’d been pregnant when she and Paul got married, which was the reason she hadn’t finished college.

So what she had really done, after leaving Zane’s home yesterday, was hide her true concerns behind questions about right and wrong. That had been much easier to do than face what had really been bothering her: spending two days with Zane Fortune, meeting his family and friends, and pretending that she and Zane were lovers.

She faced it squarely the next day while getting ready for Zane to pick her up. She had already driven her kids over to Ramona’s, each of them with a small overnight bag, then had returned home and started working on herself. It was no small task to turn herself into a lady of some leisure. While she filed and polished her short fingernails, and gave herself a pedicure, she worried about whether she would be able to fool anyone into thinking that a man like Zane Fortune would find a woman like her attractive. And if she were to believe Zane’s story to the letter, she was going to be under a lot of scrutiny. From people who were millionaires, yet! Probably not one woman she would meet at that wedding had ever done her own fingernails or given herself a pedicure.

But all that aside, Gwen’s biggest worry was Zane himself. He was too good-looking, too rich, too sure of himself. She’d never met anyone even remotely similar before, and there was some part of her that was uncomfortably drawn to the glamorous appeal Zane exuded. Gwen was positive that her pragmatic side would never let her actually fall in love with anyone like Zane Fortune, but was it strong enough to prevent her from developing a silly, futile schoolgirl crush on the man?

She couldn’t deny the possibility, and it bothered her so much that she dialed Ramona’s phone number. “How are the kids doing?”

“You should be getting ready instead of worrying.”

“I am getting ready, but I just realized something. Last night I talked about morality versus money and that wasn’t what was eating at me at all. I—I’m afraid of Zane Fortune.”

“Oh, God, there’s something you didn’t tell me. Do you think he’s a pervert, or something?”

“Ramona, no!” Gwen was appalled that she’d given her friend such a horribly false impression. “The truth, Ramona, is that I’m going to be spending two days with the most incredible man I’ve ever met, and what if I…well, end up liking him?”

“Well, think about this,” Ramona said wryly, “What if he ends up liking you?”

“Oh, he wouldn’t! I mean, how could he?”

“For heaven’s sake, Gwen, are you deliberately looking for a reason to drive yourself crazy? In the first place you might not like him at all. In the second, why are you so positive that he could never like you?”

“I just know it. Compare his life-style to mine and you’ll know it too.”

“Because he’s rich and you’re not? So what? Gwen, I think that what you’re really afraid of is meeting his wealthy family and friends. You’re as good as any of them, and don’t you dare act like you’re not.”

“What if I can’t pull it off?”

“Good grief, you’re the most creative person I know. Create a persona for yourself that will knock everyone’s socks off, Zane Fortune’s included.”

Gwen glanced at the two dresses hanging on the closet door that she’d thought would be best for the charade Zane had hired her for; she hadn’t yet decided which one to wear for the wedding today. Although they were both pretty dresses, neither of them would knock anyone’s socks off.

But she had one in her closet that just might do that. “Create a persona for myself, hmm?” she murmured, more to herself than to Ramona.

“And make it a noticeable one. Now hang up and get to it. I’ll be on pins and needles till you get back tomorrow, and you’d better have some darn good stories to tell me.”

“’Bye, Ramona,” Gwen said absentmindedly, and put down the phone. Hurrying to the closet she took out a plastic bag, then removed the bag and studied the dress it had protected for well over a year. She was pleased to smell no mustiness but rather the faint scent of her favorite perfume; she had dropped several sachets of the fragrance into the bag when she’d put the dress away. Next she reached to the top shelf of the closet for a shoe box, and in it were the stunning high heels that went with the dress.

“You want to impress your family, Mr. Fortune?” she said under her breath. “Fine, we’ll impress your family.”

Zane had instructed Gwen to dress for the wedding ceremony and reception afterward, because he would be picking her up just early enough to allow for the drive to the ranch. “Bring an overnight case with whatever else you think you might need. Along with Saturday’s big event, there’s going to be a Sunday morning brunch. It will be casual, so slacks or even jeans will do for that.”

She realized it hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not have appropriate clothes for a formal wedding—which didn’t surprise her considering how he lived. He was in for at least one surprise.

When she was finally made up, coiffed and dressed, she stared at her own reflection with a feeling of wonder. Was that woman in the mirror really her? It had been so long since she’d worn anything but jeans, shorts and old tops, and just as long since she’d put on makeup and spent time on her hair, that she could hardly believe her own eyes.

Charged up over looking so good, Gwen finished packing her overnight case, and was ready and waiting when her front doorbell chimed. She was carrying her handbag and the small suitcase when she opened the door.

“Hello,” she said, and then watched a wash of confusion erase his smile.

“You…you’re gorgeous!” he blurted, alerting Gwen to the fact that he hadn’t expected her to look as she did.

She smiled. “Save the flattery for later, when we have an audience,” she said pertly, and pulled the door closed behind her. Brushing past him, she started down the front steps.

Zane wondered about his almost stupefied reaction to Gwen’s appearance. He never had trouble talking to women, and compliments had always rolled off his tongue smooth as silk. Blurting was not his style, and yet he had definitely blurted when Gwen opened her door. In fact, he was still amazed at her astonishing transformation from the soggy but pretty woman in his mind to this glamorous creature.

Regaining his wits, he hurried to catch up with Gwen and take the overnight bag from her hand. “I’ll put this in the trunk.”

“Thank you.”

He opened the passenger door of his luxury car and she got in. Because her skirt was split, he caught a glimpse of a long, sensually shaped thigh as she brought her legs around, and a jolting awareness of Gwen Hutton as a highly desirable woman suddenly buffeted Zane. Frowning, he rounded the back of the car, paused to put her bag in the trunk, then continued to the driver’s side.

After starting the engine, he looked her way and gave her another amazed once-over. When she turned her head and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he stammered, “Guess I’m staring, huh?”

“I’d say so,” Gwen said dryly.

Since stammering was another thing Zane never did with women, his doing so now unnerved him. Gwen appeared to be cool as a cucumber, and he felt like a tongue-tied boy. Unusual, damn unusual, he thought uneasily as he pulled away from the curb.

Of course, he hadn’t expected her to look like a fashion model, he thought in defense of his behavior. Her dress was really a stunning black suit with pale gray satin piping around lapels that were just far enough apart to permit a glimpse of cleavage, which was sexier to Zane than if her entire bosom was on display. Her hosiery was gray and her high-heeled pumps were black. Her hair had been piled on top of her head in a mass of curls, with floating tendrils around her face and nape that tormented Zane.

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he tried to concentrate on driving instead of on the way Gwen looked. But inhaling the subtle scent of her perfume with every breath worked against him, and he kept stealing peeks at her.

Finally, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “You’re going to knock my family out,” he said. “My friends too.”

“That’s what you wanted to accomplish, wasn’t it? I mean, isn’t this entire charade aimed at impressing your family and friends?”

“True.” Zane laughed then, albeit weakly. “Guess I didn’t expect to be impressed myself.”

Uh-oh, Gwen thought warily. If she let herself, she could be very impressed by him. He looked fabulous in his dark suit and white shirt, and she would bet anything that the tie he was wearing had cost as much as her entire outfit—which she’d bought on mark-down.

But she had not dressed to impress him, she insisted to herself. She was only keeping up her side of their “business arrangement,” and she didn’t want to hear any more compliments from him while they were alone.

“Let’s keep this strictly impersonal,” she said coolly. “I have a few questions. Since you want your family to believe we’re a…couple, I should know a little more about you than I do. For instance, how do you take your coffee, and what’s your favorite drink as far as alcoholic beverages go?”

“I suppose you’re right, but remember that I should know more about you too. Coffee strong and black, and while I’m not much of a drinker, I prefer scotch. What about you?”

“Coffee with cream, no sweetener. Wine or champagne only. Are you a reader?”

“I run in spurts. I doubt if anyone’s going to ask you what book I might be in the middle of reading.”

“Probably not. I enjoy reading but have little time for it. Same with TV.” Gwen paused, then asked, “If someone asks me what I do, what would you like me to say?”

Zane sent her a frown. “Is there anything wrong with the truth?”

“Not to me there isn’t, but bathing dogs and running other people’s errands is hardly a glamorous job.”

“It’s an honest living. Just be yourself, Gwen, except for our supposed relationship. Now that subject might raise some questions. How we met, for example.”

“Well, if I’m going to be honest about my job, I might as well be honest about that, as well.”

“Might as well be,” Zane agreed, then chuckled. “It was pretty funny, wasn’t it? Your chasing Alamo through the house, both of you sopping wet?”

“Hilarious,” Gwen said wryly.

“Of course, you can’t say it happened only yesterday. I’d like everyone to think that we’ve been seeing each other for at least two weeks.”

“Fine,” Gwen snapped.

Zane sent her a look. “You don’t like lying, do you?”

“Never did, never will. But it’s what you’re paying me for, and I’ll do what I can to help you pull the wool over your relatives’ eyes.”

“When you put it that way, it seems pretty underhanded,” Zane muttered.

“It is underhanded.” Gwen sighed. “But it’s your family, and I’m just the hired help.”

That last remark hit Zane the wrong way, and he fell silent to stew privately. It was too late to wish he’d met Gwen under different circumstances and hadn’t instantly seen her as a replacement for Heather, but the thought was there, all the same. He didn’t like Gwen thinking of herself as the “hired help,” but what could he do about it now? They were almost to the ranch, and he knew they would be rushed by relatives the minute they arrived. Everyone would want to meet his lady friend; he and Gwen would instantly have to go into their act.

No, there was no turning back now. He was caught in a trap of his own making, and wishing that he’d never thought up this ridiculous scheme was an exercise in futility. He’d forever set the tone of any possible relationship with Gwen Hutton, and he would have to live with it.

Three

G wen had known she was in for a range of new experiences during this November weekend, but the armed guards at the entrance to the ranch took her completely by surprise.

Zane pulled to a stop and rolled down his window. “Hello, Dan,” he said, as one of the guards bent over and peered into the car.

“How are you, Zane?” Dan asked cordially.

“Just fine. Nice day for a wedding.”

“That it is.” Dan stood away from the car and motioned Zane on.

“What was that all about?” Gwen asked.

“They’re just making sure that everyone is an invited guest.” Zane paused, then added, “Dad has become very security conscious. It started after Matthew’s infant son was kidnapped.”

“I recall reading about that. The Fortune name is often in the newspapers.”

“It’s in the papers too damn often,” Zane said gruffly. “That’s another reason for those guards at the gate—to keep out the media.”

Gwen’s next surprise was the valet parking. Young men, smartly dressed in black trousers and red jackets, were parking the arriving guests’ vehicles in neat rows in a field of freshly mowed grass.

“Is that huge parking area the norm?”

Zane found himself pleased with Gwen’s curiosity. At the same time he hoped that the army of family and friends she would meet this weekend wouldn’t overwhelm her. Dressed as she was today she looked sophisticated and confident, but the Fortune family en masse could daunt the strongest spirit, and Zane suspected that Gwen had never attended an affair like this one promised to be. He suddenly felt very protective of her and swore that he would do his best to shield her from some of his nosier relatives.

“For special occasions, yes,” he said. He stopped the car at the Valet Parking sign. “We’ll get out here.”

At last Gwen could see the ranch compound, and she was mesmerized by the sight of Ryan Fortune’s sprawling mansion, the huge white wedding tents set on emerald-green grass, the number and variety of flowers that seemed to be everywhere and the mingling crowd of fabulously dressed people.

She was still staring, still attempting to digest everything, when someone opened her door. “Ma’am?” one of the valets said politely, and offered his hand to help her from the car.

She felt a bit dazzled by it all, but she managed to smile at the young man and thank him when she was out of the car and on her feet. Zane was instantly at her side.

“Our luggage will be taken care of,” he told her. “Your suitcase will be brought to the bedroom you’ll be using tonight.” She wore a strange expression, and Zane hoped that her confidence wasn’t already slipping. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Gwen lifted her chin. It was true that she wasn’t accustomed to such luxurious surroundings, but she’d never been afraid of meeting new people, and that was really all she was going to be doing.

“I’m fine,” she said. When he still looked a little uncertain, she added, “Zane, I really am. Stop worrying.” She took in a breath. “Shall we get started?”

He offered his arm, grinned and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

The first couple to greet them was Dallas and Maggie Fortune. Zane and Dallas shook hands, Zane kissed Maggie’s cheek, and said, “Gwen, this is my brother, Dallas, and his wife, Maggie.” To his brother and sister-in-law he said, “This beautiful lady is my very special friend, Gwen Hutton.”

Gwen saw surprise in both Dallas’s and Maggie’s eyes, but they shook her hand and smiled warmly. Smiling herself, she murmured, “Very nice meeting you.”

That was just the beginning. By the time everyone went into the designated tent for the wedding ceremony, Gwen’s head was spinning with names and faces. Not so much that she didn’t notice the elegant decorations inside the tent, however. It was all so lovely, so tastefully done, she thought emotionally. She had never pined for great wealth, but from what she’d seen so far today, wealth did have its advantages. If she had to pay for a wedding, for example, it would have none of the glamorous pageantry of this affair. Her thoughts drifted to the future, and she hoped ardently that when the time came for her children to marry she would have the financial means to at least help them pay for a memorable wedding.

She remained emotional throughout the ceremony. The bride was beautiful in a stunning white gown, and the groom was extraordinarily handsome in a formal gray cutaway suit. Their attendants were beautifully attired.

Zane and Gwen had been seated in the second row of chairs, almost directly behind Zane’s father, Ryan, and the bride’s mother, Lily Cassidy. Gwen was positive she had never met a more beautiful woman than Lily, who possessed an exotic, ageless beauty. Gwen recalled meeting Cole Cassidy, Lily’s son, and his fiancée Annie, and then meeting a young woman named Maria Cassidy, who had been standing alone. Was Maria another one of Lily’s children? Gwen wondered. If she was, she was very different from the rest of her family. Of course, Gwen reasoned, she hadn’t yet met Hannah Cassidy, or rather Hannah Malone, she amended just as the minister said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

As the bride and groom kissed, people began rising. Parker and Hannah, arm-in-arm and wearing big smiles, swept down the aisle.

Gwen and Zane stood up. “It was a beautiful wedding,” Gwen said huskily, still feeling emotional.

“I think weddings are catching,” Zane said with a laugh. “There’ve been almost a dozen of them among my friends and family in less than two years. Did I tell you I’m the last holdout in the Fortune family?”

“I don’t remember your mentioning it,” Gwen said rather dryly. “But I knew there had to be a reason why your female relatives believe it’s your turn.”

“And speaking of my single status, Gwen, you’ve been doing a great job. I’ve overheard comments. ‘Who is she?’ ‘How did Zane meet her?’ ‘She’s quite lovely, isn’t she?’ Things like that. You’ve got them all talking and wondering.” Zane took Gwen’s elbow and steered her into the aisle.

“Then I guess I’m earning my pay,” Gwen said, deliberately striving to sound a bit sarcastic. She’d been slowly but surely becoming unnerved being with Zane. It was extremely discomfiting to look directly at him, especially into his cobalt-blue eyes. It wasn’t just his outstanding good looks that troubled her, either, it was him! All of him— his aura, his smile, his voice, his grace of movement. In truth, she could find no flaw in Zane Fortune. He was intelligent, friendly and charming. And he exuded a sex appeal that any woman would have to be totally numb not to feel. It was especially prevalent when he touched her as he was doing now, with a completely innocent hold on her elbow to escort her from the wedding tent.

Gwen wasn’t at all numb, and her involuntary reactions to Zane were making her nervous. The second they were outside the tent, she moved her arm just enough to discretely get rid of his hand.

She could see that the mingling had begun again. People were milling, talking and laughing. “Come on,” Zane said. “You have to meet the bride and groom.”

“Of course,” she murmured, and once again he took her elbow, this time to steer her toward the newlyweds. After introductions, Gwen offered congratulations and best wishes. Since others were waiting to do the same, she and Zane didn’t linger. But she’d sensed something from Parker Malone that she’d felt with no one else today.

“Does your friend know I’m a paid date?” she asked sharply.

Zane was startled. “Absolutely not! No one knows, and I’d just as soon keep it that way. What made you think Parker knew about our arrangement?”

Gwen felt a little foolish. “Obviously I misunderstood his, uh, scrutiny.”

“He’s curious, Gwen, same as everyone else. He might be even more curious than most because we’re good friends and I never mentioned you to him. Which I couldn’t do, of course, since you and I only met yesterday.”

“You sound angry. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m not angry. Look, we’ll be eating soon. Maybe you’d like to go to your bedroom and freshen up.”

Gwen eagerly grasped at the opportunity to be alone for a few minutes. “Yes, I would. How do I find it?”

“There are people in the house directing traffic. Most of the family will be staying overnight. Just tell anyone your name and someone will show you to your room. I’ll go over and talk to Dad and Lily while you’re gone.”

Grateful for his thoughtfulness, Gwen laid a hand on Zane’s arm. “Thank you.”

Zane grinned. “Maybe I’m not as bad as you thought, huh?”

Gwen flushed. “If I gave you that impression, I apologize. See you later.”

Zane walked over to Ryan and Lily. “Great wedding, Lily,” he said. “Hannah is very good at her craft.”

“Yes, she is,” Lily agreed, obviously proud of the career Hannah had built around planning weddings and other special events.

“Zane,” Ryan said with a broad, approving smile, “your companion is a lovely girl. Is it serious this time?”

The one person Zane didn’t want to lie to was his dad. Lily, with her usual tact, saved him from doing so. “Ryan, darling, why don’t we just wait and see?” She smiled at Zane. “We’re all very glad you brought Gwen with you today.”

“Thanks, Lily. So, when’s the big day for the two of you?”

“Shortly after Christmas,” Lily replied. “The invitations should be going out in a week or so. Oh, there’s Cole and Annie. Cole! Annie!” she called.

In a few minutes there was a small crowd around Ryan and Lily, and Zane slipped away. He peeked into the second large tent and saw the many tables set up for the wedding feast, which he could see was going to be buffet-style. Waiters in white jackets scurried to get everything ready. The long tables of food were already laden, and more was being brought in as Zane watched. There was also a small stage where musicians were preparing to entertain the guests. Zane took note of the cases of champagne, scotch and bourbon stacked behind two different bars as bartenders readied glasses, napkins and cocktail mixes.

Grinning, Zane shook his head. Obviously a Texas-style party was in the making. A Fortune-style party, he amended. Sensing someone behind him, he turned to find his sister Vanessa, whom he greeted with a hug.

“How are you, Zane?” Vanessa asked.

“Couldn’t be better,” he said breezily.

“Your lady friend took everyone by surprise.”

“Did she really?”

“I like her, Zane. She seems to fit you.”

“You mean that Gwen and I look like a couple?” Zane asked teasingly.

“The two of you strike me that way, yes, but you seem amused by the idea.” Vanessa sighed. “Is Gwen just another short-term girlfriend? She appears to be so much more.”

Zane braced himself for an out-and-out lie. “She means a lot to me, Vanessa.” But then he saw the sudden hope on his sister’s face and quickly added, “Of course, who knows how long that will last? Personal relationships are such damnably unpredictable things.”

Vanessa looked disappointed. “Your relationships have been very predictable, Zane, which I find terribly sad.”

“Sad! Sis, there’s nothing sad about my life-style.”

“Since I’m on the outside looking in, I’ll have to take your word for it. But, Zane, when you finally fall in love—I mean really fall in love—then you’ll realize what you’ve been missing by flitting from woman to woman.”

Zane laughed with genuine relish. “I guarantee that I haven’t been missing much, old girl.”

Vanessa couldn’t help laughing too. “Don’t you ‘old girl’ me, Zane Fortune! You’re four years older than I am, and don’t you forget it.”

While Zane and Vanessa teased each other and laughed together, Gwen enjoyed the silence of the lovely bedroom to which she’d been shown. As Zane had predicted, her suitcase had been brought up, and she unpacked her things. The room had a private bathroom, and the two rooms were decorated in a delicate lemony color.

Gwen wished she could stay in that lovely suite for the rest of the day, but of course that wasn’t an option. She had to earn that two-thousand dollars; Zane certainly wouldn’t pay her that sum if she hid in her bedroom. Dinner was still to come, then dancing and partying until a supper was served at midnight. The best Gwen could hope for was that Zane would call it a day long before the midnight meal.

Sighing, she washed her hands at the sink and took stock of her face in the mirror above it. Her hairdo was still in place and her makeup was fine, except for her lipstick which took about five seconds to refresh.

She brushed small specks from her stylish black suit and was glad she’d worn it. She’d noticed quite a few women wearing black today, and had, in fact, received several compliments on her outfit.

Thus far, she felt that she had fielded questions about Zane and herself quite well. There’d been a lot more curious looks than outright questions, she realized, and if that pattern continued she wouldn’t have to relate any detailed stories about how they’d met and how long they had known each other.

Of course, right now she didn’t know which was worse—lying or telling the truth. If she was honest with herself, she could not deny that she was exceptionally attracted to Zane—and becoming more so with every minute they pretended to be a couple. But she didn’t try to kid herself about how he might feel about her. Their arrangement was business and nothing more. Tomorrow he would pay her, and other than the off-chance of running into each other when she went to his house to bathe Alamo or to take care of other chores, they would never see each other again.

The thing that seemed so unfair about it all was that she had not been even slightly attracted to another man since her widowhood. Why her hormones should suddenly come to life over Zane Fortune, a man she could never have, was an annoying mystery. He was a Fortune, and she was…well, what was she, other than a woman alone who struggled daily to feed and clothe her children? Yes, she could dress herself up as she’d done today and put on a pretty good show of sophistication, but down deep she wasn’t a bit sophisticated. She was ordinary—very, very ordinary—and Zane Fortune was anything but.

It was time she returned to the party, and Gwen left the bedroom. She said a pleasant hello to everyone she saw as she made her way through Ryan’s fabulous home to reach the same door through which she’d entered the mansion.

A short plump woman with a lovely silver streak in her black hair approached her. “Hello. You’re Zane’s friend, Gwen Hutton. I’m Rosita Perez. You probably met my daughter Maggie. She’s married to Dallas.”

“Why yes, I did meet Maggie.” Gwen offered her hand for a handshake, and Rosita Perez took it in both of hers, startling Gwen into a stammer. “It’s, uh, very nice meeting you, Mrs. Perez.”

“Call me Rosita,” she said as she turned Gwen’s hand over and peered at her palm. “Ah, yes, just as I suspected.”

“You suspected what?” Gwen said cautiously. Was this woman a little light in the upper story, or what?

“You’re in love,” Rosita said calmly. “And you will be married right after the new year. What’s this I see? Children! How wonderful! You and Zane will have four children.”

Gwen yanked her hand back. “Mrs. Perez, everything you think you saw in my hand is as far from the truth as it could get. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

“You’re quite wrong, my dear,” Rosita called out cheerfully as Gwen hastened away.

Outside, Gwen tried to calm her shaken system with breaths of fresh air. Without a doubt Rosita Perez was the strangest person she’d met here today. Zane’s relatives might be curious about his latest girlfriend, but at least they were polite about it.

Latest girlfriend? Gwen’s spirits dropped another notch. She was a hired girlfriend, and she had better not forget it for even a moment!

In the next heartbeat she saw Zane walking toward her. Apparently he’d been watching for her. How was she going to get through the rest of today and then tomorrow morning with him being so consistently attentive, when she couldn’t seem to rid herself of feelings for the man that just kept going deeper?

Well, she had to do it, that was all there was to it. She had to smile and talk and act as though he wasn’t the most incredible guy she’d ever met. Inwardly she groaned. Why was this happening to her?

Zane walked up to her and smiled. “Is your room satisfactory?”

“It’s a lovely room. Zane, I met the strangest woman in the house. She’s Maggie’s mother, Rosita, and when I offered to shake her hand, she took mine and read my palm.”

Zane let out a whoop of laughter. “So you met our local oracle.”

Gwen’s jaw dropped. “Are you saying she’s a genuine soothsayer?”

“I’m only saying this, Gwen. Rosita Perez has accurately predicted many an event, and folks around here have come to respect her predictions.”

“You don’t mean it,” Gwen said weakly.

“What did she see in your palm?”

“Uh, I’d rather not say. I don’t believe in that foolishness, anyhow, so it doesn’t matter what she told me.”

“Really,” Zane said with a small chuckle. “Know what I think? I think Rosita told you something that shook your underpinnings, and you wish she hadn’t. Come on, be a sport and tell me what she said.”

“Think what you want. I’m still not telling you what she said to me.” Gwen noticed people filing into the second tent. “Shall we join the others?”

Zane nodded amiably, but he would have given almost anything to know what Rosita had told Gwen. Maybe he could pry it out of Rosita, but he’d much rather hear it from Gwen.

As they strolled toward the dinner tent, he realized how much he was enjoying the day. And his enjoyment was mostly thanks to Gwen. That was food for thought—some very pleasant thought, he discovered.

Throughout the meal people kept rising and offering toasts to the newlyweds. Gwen’s—and everyone else’s—champagne glass was filled again and again. Gwen became more mellow and relaxed with each swallow she took of the most delicious champagne she’d ever tasted. She realized, if a bit fuzzily, that she was truly enjoying herself. It was becoming much easier to smile at Zane, and even to flirt with him. It was, in fact, almost possible to forget that she was being paid to flirt with him for the benefit of his female relatives, and to pretend that this was a real date.

When he laid his arm across the back of her chair, she smiled and leaned his way. He whispered in her ear, “This is great. I’d bet anything that a good half of my family is wondering when our wedding is going to take place.”

“Right after the new year,” Gwen murmured dreamily.

“Pardon? I didn’t catch that.”

Gwen felt heat in her face. “Uh, it was nothing.” How could she have repeated Rosita’s prediction so carelessly? It certainly was not going to come true, for pity’s sake. Watch yourself, Gwen Hutton!

The bride and groom got up to dance the first dance, and soon others were dancing as well. Zane talked quietly, for Gwen’s ears alone. “I should dance with you first, then do a little circulating.”

“Whatever you say.”

A few minutes later she was on the dance floor with Zane, and he was holding her as a lover held a woman. It had been a long time since Gwen had done any dancing, especially this kind of dancing, and she unconsciously stroked the back of Zane’s neck as they floated around the dance floor, all but glued together.

The intimate caress startled Zane for a moment, but then he told himself that Gwen was merely putting on a good act. Rationalizing didn’t stop his body from responding, however, and he brought her closer still and deliberately inhaled her arousing scent. However this whole thing had started out with Gwen, business deal or not, he knew now that he wanted her. She hadn’t only impressed his family and friends today, she had impressed him.

“You’re very beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you, kind sir. You’re beautiful too, you know,” she said teasingly.

“You think I’m still pretending, Gwen, but I’m not. You really are beautiful.”

The hoarseness in his voice jolted Gwen a bit, but she could only think that if he wasn’t pretending at this moment, then he was handing her a line.

“I know all about your reputation with women,” she whispered, “so please don’t insult me with false flattery just because we both drank too much champagne.”

For a few seconds Zane was at a loss. He certainly hadn’t expected that sort of reply, and it hurt that she would bring up his reputation at a time like this.

“Don’t you recognize a sincere compliment when you hear one?” he finally asked.

“Yes, I believe I do.”

“Meaning you don’t believe in my sincerity.”

“That sounds about right.” The music had stopped and they had stopped dancing, but Zane kept holding her. She tilted her head back to see his face and was rather surprised by his frowning expression. “Right now you are getting exactly what you wanted from today. People are watching,” she said, adding, “A lot of people. You really should erase that frown or they’ll think we just had a disagreement.”

“Right now I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks,” Zane growled. “Except for you.”

“Why would it matter to you what I thought about anything?”

“That’s a damn good question and maybe it’s something we should both think about.” Releasing his hold on her, he took her hand and led her back to their table. When she was seated, he leaned over and said, “I’m going to dance with Lily and my sisters. Will you be all right?”

“Of course I’ll be all right,” she stated confidently, but after he’d gone she sucked in the breath she needed very badly and told her racing pulse to calm down. Without question Zane had come on to her. She’d imagined all sorts of things happening today and this evening, but not that. And the turmoil in her system because of a few words of phony flattery scared the daylights out of her.

What scared her even more, though, were her own reactions to Zane Fortune. Whatever had made her think that she would be impervious to the famous Fortune charm?

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