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Fortune's Vengeful Groom
Charlene Sands
Their wedded bliss had been short-lived, but Eliza Fortune never forgot those breathless nights of passion with Reese Parker.When a shattering betrayal detonated the union, the heartbroken heiress hid her secret marriage to spare her family further scandal. But all bets were off now that Reese was back. This tuxedo-clad tycoon was nothing like the down-to-earth wildcatter she once knew.Despite his barely-contained anger, the fire in Reese's eyes suggested he had every intention of tangling between the sheets with Eliza again. Once all their sordid secrets were exposed, would Reese finally exact his revenge–or repent by reclaiming his bride?
Fortune’s
Vengeful
Groom
Charlene Sands
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Charlene Sands for her contribution to the DAKOTA FORTUNES miniseries.
To the V-alley Girls, Carol Pettis, Ellen Lacey
and Charleene Feldman, dear friends and striking women who
roll with the punches making my Tuesday mornings a real blast.
Your love, friendship and openhearted support bowl me over!
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Coming Next Month
One
“It’s a stroke of brilliance, Eliza. The place looks great. Nobody does a fund-raiser like you,” Nicole Appleton whispered into Eliza’s ear.
From up on stage, Eliza Fortune smiled with satisfaction as her gaze traveled around the large ballroom filled with invited guests, the men dressed in authentic three-piece suits and the women in elegant gowns of the Old West. She’d designed and decorated the ballroom for the event. “Thanks, Nic. It was a labor of love.”
“Well, you’ve outdone yourself this time. Everyone is having a wonderful time and your Basket Dinner Auction idea is going over well. You’re raising thousands of dollars for the reparations to the Old West Museum.”
The auctioneer announced another dinner basket to be auctioned off. Chloe McMurphy stepped up to the podium and lifted the flap on her basket, retrieving a pledge card to give to the auctioneer. “This lovely young lady will provide dinner for two, three or four. Her specialty is fried chicken and the best dumplings in Minnehaha County. And an added bonus of home-baked apple pie. Now that’s what I call a real fine South Dakota meal.”
Eliza tensed suddenly and glanced at her friend with apprehension. Only she and Nicole remained up on stage. All the other dinners had been auctioned off. “I hope someone bids on my basket.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. Who wouldn’t want to have a dinner cooked expressly by Eliza Fortune? At the Fortune estate, no less. I bet your dinner pledge goes for the highest bid of all.”
Eliza scoffed. “Only if my father or brother decide to take pity on me. My family’s out there somewhere and they know I’m not the best cook.”
“Won’t matter,” Nicole said adamantly. “You’re gonna raise a lot of money tonight—and not from Nash or Creed Fortune. Everyone knows how dedicated you are. They saved the best for last. And that’s you.”
She mouthed a silent thank-you to her friend, then took note of Mr. Phillips at the podium crooking his finger at Nicole. “Oh, look. It’s your turn to go up to the podium, Nic. Good luck.”
And as her friend approached the auctioneer carrying a white wicker basket adorned with a large red taffeta bow, Eliza settled back on the wooden bench seat to wait her turn.
Being a benefactor, as well as Sioux Falls Historical Society chairwoman, she’d had no trouble convincing Siouxland’s Old West Museum’s president to donate some of their Western gear to help her transform a chandelier-ensconced ballroom into a springtime scene straight out of the Old West. Lariats, silver saddles and wagon wheels filled the perimeter, while bound sheaves of grain and husks of corn draped the walls. The dinner tables, though set with elegant china, rested on blue gingham tablecloths with tall, lumbering sunflowers as vibrant centerpieces. A sunrise backdrop and a large buckboard wagon filled with straw sat upon the stage just behind Eliza.
When all was said and done, Nicole’s bid ranked up there with the highest so far. Her dinner pledge of roast lamb and potatoes with carrot soufflé and crème brûlée for dessert garnered over three thousand dollars. Eliza joined the group in applauding the generous bidder.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, you have the distinct honor of bidding on Miss Eliza Fortune’s dinner basket. As you all know, Miss Fortune has worked tirelessly to put on this fund-raiser and it looks like she’s made it a tremendous success.” Mr. Phillips reached for Eliza’s hand and guided her to the podium. Eliza handed him her pledge card from her gold-trimmed basket and stood as he read her offering. “Ah, I see the winner will have a great treat in store for them. Eliza has pledged to cook any meal of your choosing, beginning with hors d’oeuvres and ending with a decadent dessert with as many courses as you desire. So let’s begin the bidding at five hundred dollars.”
Eliza stood smiling at her guests, while inside a tremor of apprehension coursed through her body. And only once the first bid was announced for five hundred dollars—not by her father or brother—did she finally relax. As the bidding continued, she grew more and more confident.
“We have a bid for thirty-five hundred dollars. Do I hear four thousand? Anyone for four thousand dollars?”
Pleased that she’d garnered a respectable sum of money, Eliza was ready to walk away from the podium. She needed to coordinate the country band’s performance on stage so the dancing could begin.
“Going once, going twice for thirty-five hundred dollars and…”
“Thirty-five thousand dollars.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the auctioneer said, “we already have a bid for thirty-five hundred dollars.”
“I said thirty-five thousand dollars,” a commanding voice echoed from the back of the room.
All conversation stopped in the grand ballroom, as heads turned in the direction of the voice.
Eliza stood perfectly still. Her smile faded, while her heart pounded up in her ears. She knew that voice. She would never forget the low, raspy timbre that would send her nerves spiraling out of control. She shut her eyes briefly, willing her body to calm.
It couldn’t be, she told herself.
But she knew better.
She had always known that this day would eventually come.
Mr. Phillips glanced at Eliza with a baffled expression, but when she offered no help, he turned back to his task. “Uh, sorry, sorry, indeed. The bid stands at thirty-five thousand dollars,” he emphasized. “Going once, going twice, sold to the gentleman in the back of the room!”
Just like that, Reese Parker stepped into her line of vision.
And back into her life.
After six years.
Their gazes locked from across the room. For a long moment they just stared at one another. His eyes held no warmth, his face no joy. He hardly looked like the gentle jeans-clad rodeo rider she’d met one summer in Montana.
Oh, he was as handsome as she remembered. Maybe more so now, with a chiseled jawline and dark, piercing eyes. But this man looked as though he belonged here amid South Dakota’s wealthiest patrons, dressed in a dashing ink-black Western tuxedo with lines cut to perfection. A golden nugget clasped the bola tie that lassoed his neck and settled into a single-breasted brocade vest. A black felt Stetson covered shocks of short-cropped sandy hair and, as if he needed it, snakeskin boots added flair to the whole look.
Heavens, he could have stepped off the pages of GQ.
Eliza was aware of the hush that settled onto the crowded room. But she couldn’t tear her gaze away. She simply looked at the man she had once loved.
Goose bumps erupted on her flesh.
Memories poured in, and her breath caught as myriad emotions ran havoc through her system, but the one that remained, the one she couldn’t banish, washed over her like a deluge of rain.
Anger.
Mr. Phillips took his cue then and concluded the auction, asking that the bidders make good on their bids at the reception table, while the HoneyBees made their way on stage.
Eliza was grateful for the reprieve. She broke eye contact with Reese and scurried off backstage. A gentle hand grabbed her from behind, startling her.
“Eliza, where are you running off to?”
Eliza turned around, relieved to see that it was Nicole. She blinked and couldn’t formulate an answer. The last few minutes had seemed like a dream. No, she corrected, a nightmare.
“That gorgeous guy bid a ton of money on you, Eliza.”
Eliza couldn’t fake a smile. “I know.”
“And you two couldn’t take your eyes off each other.”
“I know that, too.”
“So? Are you going to tell me who he is? You must know him. Either that or he’s flirting big-time.”
“No, trust me, he wasn’t flirting.” The very thought was absurd. She didn’t know exactly why Reese had come to Sioux Falls, but she couldn’t entertain any warm thoughts about him. He had nearly destroyed her with his betrayal. No one knew the whole truth, and she’d hoped to keep it that way for as long as possible.
“Who is he, Eliza?” Nicole pressed. “Please tell me.”
Eliza had kept her secret for six years. Her own humiliation aside, she hated to think of the damage her revelation might do to the Fortune good name.
Good Lord, but she’d been a fool in the past. If the truth got out, Eliza would lose all credibility with her numerous charitable organizations, not to mention the headlines it would cause. One scandalized romance was enough in a girl’s life. She’d managed to survive it, but this one she doubted she would ever live down.
She heaved a sigh. Keeping this from her best friend had been hardest of all. She stared into Nicole’s earnest amber eyes.
“Something’s going on, Lizzie,” Nicole whispered, using her childhood name, reminding Eliza that she and Nicole had a long history of devoted friendship. They’d been close for more than half of Eliza’s thirty-one years. Eliza had wanted to tell her countless times. She decided she’d kept her emotions bottled up long enough. Besides, if the manure were destined to hit the fan, at least she’d have an ally in Nicole.
She spoke the words she’d never said aloud to anyone in Sioux Falls, especially her family. “His name is Reese Parker and…he’s my husband.”
The South Dakota air made Eliza shiver, but she put up with the nighttime chill in order to catch her breath. She’d hurried out of the grand ballroom after speaking briefly with Nicole, finding this little hideaway terrace high atop the Fortune Seven Hotel to collect her thoughts. The magnificent view of the landscape had always helped put her at ease. But tonight it wasn’t working.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
Reese was in Sioux Falls.
She doubted it was a coincidence that he’d shown up in her hometown.
I was passing through town so I thought I’d look up my…wife.
She shivered again.
And felt a wealth of warmth swarm her body as a man’s jacket enveloped her shoulders. She turned quickly and came face-to-face with her husband. “Reese.”
“Eliza.” He stepped away from her as if he couldn’t stand to be near her, yet he’d just seen to her comfort. The tuxedo jacket smelled of him, an erotic mix of musk and pine.
“You…look different,” she said, fumbling for words.
“I am different,” he said curtly as he removed his Stetson.
His hair was just as she remembered—thick, short and neatly groomed. How often she’d run her fingers through those locks just to muss up those perfect strands.
Eliza’s heart hammered again. Even with this awkwardness, Reese held true to his manners. But he didn’t look like a rugged rodeo rider right now, the man whose dimpled smile could send her body humming. There was nothing soft or gentle in the way he looked at her.
But he did look his fill, his gaze traveling over her body with a laziness that could be mistaken for arrogance. Suddenly Eliza was aware of the revealing gown she’d had designed especially for tonight. In keeping with the Western theme, the creamy satin gown dipped low in the front, the bodice forming her figure and cinching in at her thin waist. Shiny golden threads created an intricate pattern throughout and gilded wide lace teased her bosom and wrists. To match the golden highlights in your blond hair, Eliza, the dress designer had said.
Now, with his eyes upon her, Eliza felt exposed and vulnerable to his scrutiny. His gaze lingered on her chest, making her think back to a time when more than his eyes had devoured her.
She trembled again, and this time the night air wasn’t the cause.
“It’s not that cold, Eliza. Ice must be running through your veins.”
Eliza had almost forgotten herself. She wouldn’t let Reese get the better of her. She’d walked out on him once and she’d do it again. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled then, but not the gentle smile that softened his eyes. No, this smile was thin-lipped and hard. “We have to talk.”
Eliza began shaking her head. “No. We can’t. I have to get back inside.”
“Tomorrow, then. During the dinner you’re going to cook me.”
Eliza removed his jacket and tossed it to him. “You’re joking.”
He caught the jacket with a nonchalance that angered her. Reese had always been fast with his hands. “I seldom joke.”
