скачать книгу бесплатно
“Marisa Preston?” Her name erupted from his lips and came out as a question, and he couldn’t imagine why, because he definitely knew who she was.
“YES,” SHE ANSWERED with a quaver in her voice, feeling as if her knees were going to buckle. “It’s been a long time. Do you live in Dallas now?”
His eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged, not knowing how to answer. She’d only been trying to make the best of an awkward situation.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
The bluntness of the question took her by surprise, but she answered without a pause. “I work here.”
He frowned. “Work? Here?” He made no attempt to hide the incredulity in his voice as his eyes slid over her again.
“In the executive office,” she amended.
“The executive office?” The frown deepened. “I assumed you’d be playing in concert halls all over the world by now. Isn’t that what your mother planned for you?”
“You know I never wanted to do that,” she answered almost inaudibly, wondering if that was what he’d believed—that she’d left him to pursue her career as a concert pianist.
“I never knew what you wanted,” he said in a harsh tone. “I never knew you at all.”
Her stomach tightened. She hadn’t expected him to be so cold, so angry. After all these years, she’d expected idle curiosity about why she’d left him, but he didn’t seem too concerned with her reasons for leaving. Her head began to throb and she lightly touched her temple to ease the ache.
His eyes caught the small gesture. “What’s the matter? Do thoughts of the past upset you?”
If he only knew. Feelings of guilt mounted inside her. “Some thoughts,” she acknowledged, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “But that was a long time ago, and I was very young.” The statement sounded inane even to her own ears, so she tried again. “I made a lot of bad choices that I’m not proud of, but I’ve managed to put them behind me.”
“How convenient for you,” he muttered, urging himself to walk away. He couldn’t do it, though. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just leave? It had to be the shock of seeing her, of knowing what she’d done to his life. She’d ruined him for other women. After her, he couldn’t trust a woman again. He’d tried, but he couldn’t, and he couldn’t fully love again, either—the way a man should love a woman. Not even for his daughter had he been able to do that. All because of this woman.
She called it a bad choice, said she’d been young. Was he supposed to accept that and now have a pleasant conversation with her? Her gall was unbelievable! He mentally shook himself, fighting to keep his emotions under control.
MARISA HAD IMAGINED this meeting a thousand times, but she was unprepared for this hostile stranger, especially since he’d married Shannon four months after Marisa had left him. Her mother was glad to tell her the details. So why would he still be so angry with a young girl who’d broken her promise of marriage?
She blinked nervously under his hard stare, unable to stop herself from asking, “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? After all, it was a long time ago.”
“Overreacting!” he repeated, his voice sharp as a whiplash. He jammed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Doesn’t it ever bother you?”
How dare he ask her that? He was a married man. He had no right to judge her without knowing the truth. The truth. She suddenly knew she had to tell him that truth, the truth that had tortured her for years.
“Yes, it bothered me for a while,” she began, lifting her chin, meeting his icy gaze as she struggled for the right words. “But as I said, I was young and—”
“Oh, please,” he cut in. “Spare me your pretty speech. Why don’t you just admit that you were a spoiled rich girl who couldn’t handle responsibility or commitment, so you ran home to mother?”
“It wasn’t like that,” she denied, hating the picture he held of her in his mind.
“It was just like that. Tulley warned me. Shannon warned me, but—”
“Please,” she begged, her head beginning to ache in earnest. “You don’t understand.”
“No. I’ll never understand.”
“If you’d just listen, I can explain.”
“It may surprise you, but I’m not interested in anything you have to say—now or ever. I’ve moved on.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said, hoping for a weakening in his implacable attitude. He quickly disillusioned her.
“No, of course not,” he replied in a scornful voice. “You never thought about me or my feelings. You just left.”
“Please, listen—”
“I told you I’m not interested in anything you have to say. I had a feeling you were trouble the first moment I met you, but you seemed so different from the other girls who hung around the rodeos—or so I thought. You had me wrapped so tight around your little finger, I couldn’t see the real woman behind the beautiful face.” His eyes slid over her, sending a tiny shiver through her body. “It’s hard to imagine I ever considered myself in love…with you.”
“Mr. Kincaid, your packages are ready,” a woman called from the gift-wrap counter.
Colter whirled toward her.
“Daddy,” a little girl shouted, running up to him with a pair of low-rise jeans in her hands. Rhinestones glittered on the pockets and around the hem. “Can I have these? I really like them.”
Colter grabbed his packages and turned to face the child. “You’re too young for jeans like that.”
“But all the girls in my class are wearing them.”
“Ellie—”
He and Shannon had a daughter—a beautiful little girl with blond hair and green eyes. The Kincaid green eyes. She appeared to be around six or seven, and Marisa couldn’t look away. Through the panic rising in her, she realized Colter and Shannon had started a family very soon after she’d left.
Before she could assimilate this piece of information, another child with blond hair came running up.
“Daddy said I can’t have them,” the girl called Ellie told the other one.
Marisa’s stomach tensed in pain. Colter has two daughters.
“Go put the jeans back,” Colter said.
“Aw, Daddy.”
“Ellie.”
“Okay, c’mon, Lori, we’ll find something else.”
They ran off and Colter followed. He didn’t give Marisa a second glance.
Colter stopped and put his arm around a woman who had her back to Marisa. Marisa couldn’t see the woman clearly, but it had to be Shannon Wells—Colter’s wife.
Almost in slow motion, Marisa walked to the executive elevators. Once the doors closed, she jabbed the stop button and the elevator stalled. She sank to the floor, wrapped her arms around her trembling body and began to cry. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she didn’t bother to wipe them away as pain encompassed every part of her. Why today? Why did she have to see him and his perfect family today?
And why, after so many years, did it still hurt so much?
“MS. PRESTON? MS. PRESTON? Are you stuck in the elevator?”
Marisa heard the man’s voice over the intercom and rose slowly to her feet. She hit Talk and released the stop button. “I’m fine, thank you. The elevator’s moving now.”
When it reached the executive floor, the maintenance man was waiting. “Ms. Preston—”
“I’m fine,” she murmured again, brushing past him and hurrying to her office, not wanting him to see she’d been crying. The news would quickly get back to her father, and she couldn’t deal with that right now.
She went over to the window that overlooked downtown Dallas, she didn’t see anything except Colter’s angry face. So many years she’d waited to tell him about their son, yet she couldn’t even bring herself to utter the words in his presence. We had a son. He died. How could she say that to him? Oh God, she had to talk to someone.
She picked up her phone. “Send Cari Michaels to my office, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” her secretary responded.
Marisa wrapped her arms around her waist again to still her agitated nerves, and waited, staring out the window. Within minutes, Cari came through the door. Petite with dark eyes and hair, Cari had started working at Dalton’s as a sales-clerk. Today she was head of staff and, even though she had an office, she spent a lot of time on the floor making sure the store ran smoothly. Marisa had met her the first year she’d returned to Texas and they’d become fast friends, best friends. Cari knew all of Marisa’s secrets.
“You’re going to get me in trouble,” Cari teased. “You keep forgetting I’m not allowed on the executive floor.”
The executive floor was for the Preston family. Her father had a large suite of offices, as did she and her brother, Reed.
Marisa turned from the window.
“What’s wrong?” Cari asked immediately.
“I saw him.”
Cari frowned. “Him? Who?”
“Him,” Marisa emphasized.
“Oh, no.” Cari understood now, and Marisa blurted out what happened.
“He was awful and I…I don’t understand.” Marisa was trembling visibly, and Cari quickly got her a glass of water.
“Here—” Cari handed her the glass. “Sit down before you collapse.”
Marisa sank into her chair and took a sip.
“Are you okay?”
Marisa nodded. “Seeing him was such a shock and he was so hateful, not at all like the man I once knew. It brought back so many memories. I wanted to tell him about our son, but he wouldn’t listen. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. I wanted him to know—” Her voice wavered as emotion closed her throat.
Cari knelt beside her. “Marisa, don’t do this to yourself. You were so young, and you did the best you could under the circumstances.”
“Did I?” Marisa jerked to her feet and began to pace. “I don’t think so. I was weak and I let my mother control my life.”
Cari stood, too. “Marisa, what good will it do to—”
“My mother has these priceless crystal eggs that have figurines in them. I feel like one of those figurines, encased in glass, sheltered from the world, not allowed to live or make my own choices. That’s how both my parents treat me—like a piece of crystal.”
Cari didn’t say anything.
“Everyone knows my father created this job for me. I’m nothing but a figurehead. I’m allowed to decorate the store. That’s rich. That’s a joke.”
“Marisa, please—”
“But not anymore, Cari,” she said with renewed vigor. “No one’s going to treat me like that—including Colter Kincaid.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I have to see him again and tell him what really happened. That’s the only way I’ll have any peace.” She drew a deep breath. “But I don’t know where he lives. I never knew, even when we were together.”
“Do you really not know?”
Marisa swung to face her friend. “What?”
“I guess it was inevitable that you’d run into him one day.”
“What do you mean?”
A look of momentary discomfort crossed Cari’s face. “He has a large horse ranch somewhere outside Mesquite.”
“How do you know?” Marisa asked, pushing hair from her face.
“A couple of years ago, he was featured in Texas magazine. The story talked about his success as a horse rancher—and in the western wear business. His name’s on everything from boots to belt buckles.”
“What?” she whispered. “He was just a cowboy when I met him. And now he…”
“Marisa.” Cari’s eyes filled with compassion. “I never said anything because I didn’t want to upset you—and what good could it possibly have done? You’ve come too far to let this get the better of you.”
Marisa licked her dry lips. “Where’s his ranch?”
Cari shook her head. “I’ve just read about it, that’s all.”
“Please, Cari, I need his address.” Marisa stared into her friend’s eyes with a silent plea.
Cari sighed. “Marisa, I have this feeling you’re going to get hurt.”
“More than I’m hurting right now? I don’t think that’s possible.”
Cari flung up her hands. “Okay, let’s try the Dallas and Mesquite phone books.”
Marisa opened a drawer and pulled out the directories. Colter wasn’t listed, but his company had a Dallas address.
“That doesn’t help,” Marisa said. “And I’m sure his company won’t divulge his home address.”
“Your father has a lot of contacts,” Cari suggested. “I’m sure he could find the address in no time.”
“I don’t want my father involved in this,” Marisa replied, her tone abrupt.
