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Society Bride
Society Bride
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Society Bride

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And who needed romance, huh? Not her. No way. Why spend the rest of her life searching for something that probably didn’t exist anyway, and even if it did exist, probably didn’t live up to what everybody made it out to be.

If she passed up this chance with Lyle, she might never find another man who suited her. She might wind up utterly and totally alone. She might die a virgin—not that she really wanted to think too much about sex where Lyle was concerned, not until she had to. And as if all that weren’t enough, she would end up a shriveled, bad-tempered old maid, and she still would have caused her father to lose Riley Communications in the process. Who needed to take a chance like that? Not Renee. Uh-uh. No, sir.

Really, she thought, she wasn’t likely to do better for herself than Lyle. She was the envy of several—well, at least two—of her friends. Hey, she was probably—no, certainly—the envy of the majority of young women in Minneapolis. She was lucky to have Lyle. He was a wonderful man. Her life with him was bound to be really, truly very…good.

Gee, keeping saying it over and over like that, and maybe eventually you’ll start to believe it.

Garrett Fortune’s words haunted Renee, just as they’d haunted her repeatedly over the past three months. Just as Garrett himself had haunted her. She still couldn’t imagine what had come over her on New Year’s Eve to let herself be kissed by the man. To kiss him in return. She’d just been so surprised when he did it. One minute, he’d been telling her how doomed Kelly and Mac were, and the next, he’d been kissing her as if she were the answer to every prayer he’d sent skyward.

And what a kiss. Kisses, she corrected herself. Plural. There had been nearly a half dozen of them. She knew that, because, as insensate as she’d been at the time, she’d counted each and every one of them. And even if they had been chaste and soft and undemanding—well, sort of chaste, sort of soft but in no way undemanding—the touch of Garrett’s mouth on hers had shaken Renee right down to the furthest reaches of her soul. In those few times their lips had touched, she’d experienced a shudder of arousal unlike anything she’d ever known.

Fireworks. Mystery. Magic. All of those things had been present in that one embrace. And all she’d been able to do was open her hand over his chest in a silent request for more.

But just as Garrett had lowered his head to hers to give her more, something had halted Renee—she still wasn’t sure what. A sense of self-preservation, perhaps. Some vague, ill-defined knowledge that if she kissed him again, there would be no turning back. It made no sense for her to have such a reaction to a veritable stranger, but there it was nonetheless. Something in Garrett had spoken to something in her. Something dark, something raw, something needy. Something she knew she’d be much better off not exploring.

Not with a man who hadn’t even bothered to call her to see where those few little kisses might lead. And certainly not with a man who’d said flat out that he thought marriage was a complete waste of time and a total farce.

Unfortunately, as unwilling as Renee was to explore the feelings he’d roused in her, she still hadn’t been able to forget about them. Or about Garrett. He’d crept into her thoughts when she least expected and had wandered into her dreams at night. And worse, when he did so, he had the very troubling tendency to be at least partially naked.

And although three months had passed since their brief interlude, she could still feel the soft brush of his mouth over hers, could still taste the faint flavor of champagne on his lips, could still inhale the dusky male scent of him that had surrounded her. Those three months might as well have been three minutes, so vivid was her memory of that night.

And it was that memory, she was sure, that kept making her question the wisdom of her impending—upcoming—wedding. Because less than an evening in Garrett’s presence superseded months in Lyle’s. When Renee thought about happily ever afters these days, Lyle was nowhere to be found. Instead, a whiskey-eyed man with pale brown hair—a man who had absolutely no interest in marriage—was the one who appeared in Renee’s plans for a future.

And that simply would not do.

She told herself she was totally distorting her memory of Garrett Fortune, that no one could possibly be as wonderful as she was remembering him. He was little more than a stranger. The two of them had spoken for less than an hour. The kisses they had shared had been no more than a celebratory welcome to the New Year.

It had not been the earth-shattering, mind-scrambling, libido-twisting experience she kept recalling. It hadn’t. And that single incident certainly wasn’t something that should influence her decision to marry Lyle.

She reminded herself again that she and her fiancé—she ignored the roll of nausea that swept through her as the word formed in her head—were a good…well, a good enough…match. By mutual agreement—at least, Renee was pretty sure the agreement had been mutual… She’d certainly been all for it herself—they’d agreed to wait until their wedding night to make love. But even though there were no fireworks in their relationship—yet, she told herself—even though there was no mystery, no magic—yet—Renee could live her life quite…quite adequately with Lyle. She didn’t need romance. She didn’t need love. She didn’t.

She didn’t.

Although she liked to think she was a woman of the nineties, a woman who made up her own mind and planned her own destiny, she was old-fashioned enough to believe in fulfilling obligations, too. And she did have an obligation to her father, one that was none too small.

He’d put so much of his life on hold so she would be happy. He’d never remarried, because he’d worried that such a relationship might somehow leave Renee feeling edged out of his life. He’d forgone vacations because she’d been in school and unable to accompany him. He’d worked long hours to build a business that would insure a future for her. He’d spent a considerable amount of money on private schools, tutors, riding lessons, piano lessons, etiquette lessons. He’d made certain Renee had the best of everything.

Everything Reginald Riley had done since her birth had been with his daughter’s welfare first and foremost in his mind. Renee couldn’t possibly betray him now, couldn’t possibly risk his losing everything he’d spent decades working to build. There was no way she could do that to him.

Or to herself, she reminded herself ruthlessly. It wasn’t just her father’s welfare at stake. Renee, too, stood to lose a lifetime of memories and mementos, of sentiment and souvenirs. Not to mention sacrificing the only way of life she’d ever known. Certainly she could get by without money and a social position. But she really would hate to see it all go.

In frustration, she raked a hand through her tangle of curls, wincing when she snagged one in the gaudy engagement ring Lyle had given her. Carefully, she freed her hair and gazed at the dazzling, exquisite, four-carat diamond marquise.

Never big on jewelry unless it was of the antique variety, Renee had picked out a simple, half-carat solitaire perched in a silver setting embellished with marcasite. But Lyle had laughed good-naturedly at her choice, assuring her there was no reason for her to “settle” for something so small and unassuming, not when she was about to marry Lyle Norton. So he had bought this ring for her instead. The gem was brilliant. Beautiful. Breathtaking.

And Renee felt guilty as sin wearing it.

It just wasn’t right, she told herself. Not the ring, not the dress, not her feelings, not Lyle. She sighed heavily as the doubts threatened to overcome her again, closed her eyes at the waves of uncertainty that tried to shatter her fragile conviction that marrying Lyle was the Right Thing to do. And as always happened when she felt such a tremor in her convictions, Renee knew there was just one thing for her to do.

Get a facial.

Oh, what the heck, and a manicure, too, since she’d been so good about kicking the nail-biting habit. A facial and manicure were always good antidotes to anxiety and indecision. A trip to the spa was just about the only way she knew to relax, if even for a short time.

Carefully, she hung the wedding dress on its hanger and zipped it into the nylon bag to protect it. After a quick check in the mirror of her lavender velvet tunic and leggings, she made her way to her car.

The spa was surprisingly busy for a Monday afternoon. Although she got in for her manicure right away, thanks to a last-minute cancellation, without an appointment for her facial, Renee was directed to the waiting room for what she knew could be a rather lengthy wait. She knew that because she’d shown up without an appointment lots of times over the past three months.

Unperturbed, however—hey, where else did she have to be?—she settled back in her chair, gazing at the pale pastels and silk flowers that adorned the room, tuning her ear to the muted strains of a delicate Bach piano concerto. And she tried to find some peace of mind in the soft beauty that surrounded her. But when even the soothing environment of the spa’s waiting room couldn’t calm her, she closed her eyes and tried to think of something—anything—besides her impend—uh, upcoming wedding.

Unfortunately, as usually happened, the moment she cleared her mind, Garrett entered it. Oh, well. At least, this time, he wasn’t naked. Well, not too naked. She remembered him the way he’d been on New Year’s Eve—with just a few more buttons unbuttoned than had actually been unbuttoned at the time—heard his low, masculine laughter, felt the brush of his warm, rough skin against her own, recalled the heat and scent of him as he lowered his head to hers again and again and—

“Renee? Renee Riley? Is that you?”

Her eyes snapped open at the summons, and the heated images of Garrett dissolved in a fine, fleeting fog. Immediately, though, another member of the fabulous Fortune family replaced him—Kate Fortune, the matriarch in charge of the whole shebang, Fortune Cosmetics as well as the Fortune clan.

“Hi, Mrs. Fortune,” Renee said with a heartfelt smile, genuinely happy to see the other woman.

She liked Kate immensely, having met her on a number of occasions, usually when she was with Kelly, who worked as Kate’s social secretary. Well, who used to work as Kate’s social secretary, at least. These days, of course, Kelly had her hands full with almost-two-month-old Annie—not to mention Mac. But that was another story.

“Oh, please,” Kate said with a smile as she folded herself into the chair beside Renee’s, “how many times do I have to tell you—call me Kate.”

Renee smiled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Kate shook her head ruefully, but smiled. “So how are you, dear? Kelly tells me you’re getting married this month.”

Another roll of nausea swept through Renee’s belly. Striving for an enthusiasm she was nowhere close to feeling, forcing a smile that felt anything but happy, she said, “Um, yeah, as a matter of fact, I am, uh…getting married. This month. Yepper. Getting married. That’s me.”

Kate’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well, my goodness, don’t be so overjoyed. That smile is about to blind me, and you’re making a spectacle of yourself with that dance of joy.”

Renee did manage a chuckle at that. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just…”

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Never mind.”

Kate eyed her thoughtfully. “Kelly seems to be of the opinion that the man you’re planning to marry isn’t quite…oh, shall we say…Mr. Right.”

“Well, who’s to say what constitutes Mr. Right. Right?” She forced another chuckle that she hoped sounded carefree and gave a toss of her head that had always gone a long way toward convincing people she was completely consumed by joie de vivre. Whatever that was.

But Kate Fortune was much too perceptive to buy the act. Renee had long ago gotten the feeling that Kate saw way more than people wanted her to see. And there was a keenness to the way she was eyeing Renee that was more than a little unsettling. As if she were making plans—big plans—for her immediate future.

“Kelly was right,” Kate said softly. “You’re about to make a terrible mistake, aren’t you, dear?”

Renee gaped at her. Certainly Kelly had often enough criticized her decision to marry Lyle, telling Renee she should wait for the real thing—true love—regardless of her obligation to her father. As if Kelly had any right to make judgments on that score, seeing as how she’d married for reasons only marginally better than Renee’s. In spite of the reasons for it, though, Kelly’s marriage was turning out to be a better arrangement than anyone had thought it would be. She and Mac had come to truly care for each other.

It was something that had served to hearten Renee over the last few months, allowed her to tell herself that she and Lyle could make a go of it in the long run. Maybe, in time, the two of them really would have feelings of affection for each other, as Kelly and Mac did. Maybe. In time. She supposed it was possible.

But then, theoretically speaking, it was also possible that the earth might go spinning out of its orbit any minute now and crash into the sun.

So all Renee could manage in response to Kate’s admonition was a softly uttered, “Excuse me?”

“Kelly’s worried about you, dear,” Kate said. “As any good friend would be. She’s afraid you’re making a colossal error in not marrying for love, one you’ll live to regret.”

Before Renee had a chance to object, Kate, evidently having read her thoughts, hurried on. “Yes, I know, Kelly was in much the same boat, having married for reasons other than love herself. Which is why she knows what’s in store for you if you make the wrong decision. Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

Renee knew that was the last thing she could do. Kate was a nice woman, and she seemed to genuinely care about what Renee was going through, but this wasn’t a conversation to have with someone who wasn’t a close friend or family member. Kate was a local icon and a massively successful businesswoman, the last kind of person Renee would think of turning to when it came to girl talk.

In spite of that, however, she heard herself say, “Mrs. Fortune, what do you think is more important? Family obligation or true love?”

Kate offered her a knowing smile. “Well, certainly it’s no secret how important I think family is. But that true love business, well… There’s a reason poets and troubadours have stayed in business for thousands of years.”

Renee thought about that, then said, “But lawyers and accountants have stayed in business for a long time, too, working out the details of marriages that take place for economic and social reasons.”

“True,” Kate conceded. “But they don’t have as much of that kind of work as they used to.”

“Neither do the poets and troubadours,” Renee pointed out.

Kate didn’t disagree. What she did say was, “You don’t love the man you’re going to marry, do you?”

“No,” Renee replied without hesitation, knowing there was no point in denying that. “I don’t love him. But he’s a good man, and the arrangement will benefit my family.”

Kate nodded. “And you think that’s very important.”

“Yes. I do. And in time, it’s possible that I could come to love him.” Unfortunately, Renee didn’t utter the words with quite the conviction she had hoped to. She didn’t quite feel the conviction she had hoped to, either.

“Is your obligation to your family more important than your own happiness?” Kate asked.

That, unfortunately, Renee couldn’t answer. Because deep down, she did not know the answer. So she remained silent.

Kate watched her closely for a long time, then reached for her handbag. As she opened it and searched through its contents, she told Renee, “I think you have a lot of thinking to do, and I think you need some time—and some distance—that would allow you to do it.”

Renee shook her head. “I don’t have any time. The wedding is only a week away.”

Without looking up, Kate told her, “All kinds of things can happen in a week, Renee. All kinds of things.”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Fortune, I—”

“Aha,” Kate said, cutting her off. “Here they are.” With a dramatic jangle, she withdrew a ring of keys and searched it quickly before deftly removing one. Then, with what Renee could only call a twinkle in her eye, she extended it.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“The key to happiness,” Kate said cryptically.

Renee smiled nervously. “I don’t understand.”

“You need some time to think,” the other woman reiterated, “and you need a quiet place to do it. I just happen to have such a place at my disposal. I’ve used it myself on a number of occasions when I’ve needed to get away to gather my thoughts and make big decisions. And I frequently loan it to friends who find themselves in a similar position.”

“And where would this place be?” Renee asked warily.

Kate smiled. “Wyoming.”

“Wyoming?” Renee echoed incredulously. “I can’t go to Wyoming. I’m getting married in a week.”

Kate arched one elegant brow inquisitively. “Are you, dear?”

Renee swallowed hard and somehow forced herself to nod.

“Then consider this my wedding present to you,” Kate said. “Some time away before the big event, to rest and relax and prepare yourself for the lifelong journey that awaits you upon your return.”

Oh, God, Renee thought. She didn’t like the sound of that at all. A lifelong journey.

“Mrs. Fortune, I appreciate the offer, but—”

“But what, dear?”

Renee sighed fitfully. “I can’t go. I have too many things to do here.”

“Such as?”

“Well, there’s…um…”

Actually, even though the wedding was only a week away, there really wasn’t that much for her to do. Lyle had insisted on a small wedding, because a large one would be too time-consuming and his work hours would prohibit him from participating. Renee hadn’t disagreed. Their guest list barely numbered two dozen. They were planning to marry at his mother’s house, and Mrs. Norton was taking care of all the arrangements. The caterer, musicians, photographer, florist, everyone was lined up and ready to go. All that was left was for everyone to show up on time, Renee included.

Now why had she thought that? she wondered. Of course she would be showing up on time. All Mrs. Fortune was saying was that she should get away from the stress of wedding planning for a little while, to relax and enjoy her final days as a single woman. And why did the phrase “final days” have such a fatal ring to it, as if she’d been bound over for execution?

Renee knew she could use a small rest—even a short one. She did feel more exhausted lately than she should, and entering a marriage fatigued wasn’t a good idea. And what better way to rest than by traveling to a place where she didn’t know anyone, where no one knew her, where she would have no obligations, no responsibilities, no requirements save taking it easy?

She didn’t have to stay long, she told herself. Only a few days, long enough to reassure herself that she was making the right decision. Because marrying Lyle, she was sure, was indeed the right decision.

The timing of Kate’s offer was actually very good. Lyle was out of town again—on business, naturally—and wouldn’t be returning until the day before the wedding. The rest would do Renee good. She hadn’t been sleeping well at all, thanks to all those dreams about Garrett.

Without realizing she had agreed to take Kate up on the offer, Renee found herself reaching slowly for the key the woman held out to her. But before she could grasp it, Kate released it, and the key fell easily right into the palm of Renee’s hand.

“You’ll be going to the Final Destination Ranch in Last Resort, Wyoming,” Kate said with a smile.

Gee, could there possibly be anything more symbolic than that? Renee wondered.

“There’s a little guest cabin on the property that’s removed from the main house,” Kate continued. “It’s private and quiet, and perfect for your needs. I’ll call the manager this afternoon and tell him to expect you this evening.”

“This evening?” Renee echoed. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly leave today. I have to go home and pack, tell my father and Lyle where I’m going and—”

“I’ll tell your father,” Kate volunteered. “It’s been ages since I spoke to him, and this will give me the perfect excuse to call. Then he can tell your fiancé.”

Renee opened her mouth to object, but Kate hurried on before she had a chance.

“And you need pack only the barest essentials. Everything you could ever need or want in life is on that ranch. Trust me.”

“But I have to make travel arrangements and—”