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Authors: Marie Ferrarella

BOOK: A Baby Changes Everything
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So she would give Ryan something to complain about. His wife's unfounded jealousy.

A smile played on Melissa's lips as she contemplated the scenario. She could be very, very understanding if need be. And the price was right.

Patience was never her long suit, but she managed to bide her time.

And then she saw her chance to begin sowing the seeds of discord and suspicion. A vision in soft lavender, Lily excused herself from Ryan's side and went to the ladies' room.

Melissa lost no time in following her. She knew that Jason was somewhere on the floor, undoubtedly networking and setting down the foundation of his own trap. It was time she went about laying down hers.

The ladies' room was located in the center of another long
hallway, the path marked by a patterned wallpaper that pleased her eye only because she knew it to be so expensive.

As she made her way after Lily, Melissa had the feeling she should be marking her trail with bread crumbs. The soft lighting in the hall did little to help her get her bearings.

The actual ladies' room and outer salon were larger and far more spotless than the shack she'd grown up in. Strolling in, Melissa did a quick survey of the stalls, taking inventory.

None of them appeared to be in use. Melissa relaxed a trifle. This would go more smoothly now.

Bathed in the tinted blue lights coming from the ceiling, Lily Cassidy Fortune was standing before one of the aquamarine sinks, carefully freshening her makeup. Fifty-nine herself, she was still very much a handsome woman.

Ryan Fortune obviously had an eye for beautiful women, Melissa thought. Which was a mark in her favor, because she was younger than Lily and was certain she was more attractive.

Putting her purse down on the counter beside Lily's, Melissa nodded at the woman. Lily smiled in return, that vague sort of smile exchanged between people attending functions such as these.

“Hello, Lily.”

The tone of familiarity was impossible to miss. Lily's eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the younger woman. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” Melissa paused, her tone pregnant. She really enjoyed saying the next part. “But your husband does.”

Another perfunctory, fleeting smile graced Lily's lips. She was trying not to be dismissive, but knew her Ryan
was a very, very busy man. She counted herself lucky that she saw him as often as she did and that he tried to make sure they had dinner together every night. Sometimes it was served as late as eleven, but the hour didn't matter, as long as they spent time together.

“Ryan knows so many people, it's hard for me to keep track,” Lily replied lightly.

“For the record, I'm Jason Wilkes's wife, Melissa.” The last name was fake, as was her marital status. To be honest, Melissa had no idea what Jason's real name was, but knowing it didn't figure into her plans. She was out for herself, not Jason.

Lily's face lit up at the mention of the man's name. “Oh, yes, Ryan speaks very highly of Jason.” Her eyes shifted in the mirror to look at the other woman. “You should be very proud.”

“So should you.” Before Lily had a chance to murmur the obligatory thank-you, Melissa continued, malicious triumph in every word. “That is quite a stud you have. You know, at his age, most men are already relegated to the sidelines, operating at diminished capacity if they're operating at all, if you catch my meaning. But not Ryan.” She smiled. “He's right there, leading the charge.”

Lily's hand dropped to her side. Leaving her comb on the counter, she turned to look at the younger woman. She found her intimate tone offensive. Granted, the words were vague enough to give a business interpretation—if not for the word
stud
.

That brought what the woman said into a whole different light.

Lily's eyes took on a haughty appearance. “Excuse me?”

She'd gotten to her, Melissa thought. That had been easy.

“Am I embarrassing you, Lily?” She feigned kindness. “You know, that might be your problem. If you want to hold on to a man like Ryan, you can't be so easily embarrassed. As a matter of fact—” she leaned closer, noting how the woman stiffened in response “—you have to be willing to try all sorts of new and different thing sexually. Otherwise, he might get bored and start to stray.” And then she smiled smugly. “But I guess my saying that is like talking about closing the barn door after the stallion's left it.” She deliberately selected a suggestive metaphor.

Lily firmly believed in her husband's fidelity. Not because she could account for his every moment, but because she trusted him.

“What are you implying?” she asked.

The smile Melissa allowed to unfurl across her lips was slow and sensual. It was done for effect, to make Ryan's wife uneasy. In truth, Ryan had never done anything more than shake her hand, but there was no reason for his wife to know that. It didn't serve Melissa's purposes to have Lily believe her husband was faithful or innocent.

“I would think that would be obvious to even a…” Melissa paused, as if searching her memory banks. “What was the term Ryan used? Ice Princess, yes, that was it.”

Lily gripped the side of the counter. “Are you saying that you and Ryan…?”

The smile on Melissa's face was pure malice. “What do you think?”

Anger colored Lily's cheeks. Ryan was a good man, a decent man. He wasn't the kind who sneaked around behind his wife's back. There was no need for that. Granted, he'd been a little secretive lately, but she'd just assumed it was work related. He often had a lot on his mind. And now,
with those awful rumors about that dead body circulating around town, it was no wonder he'd become pensive and quiet.

Lily drew herself up. “I don't believe you.”

Melissa appeared unfazed. “That, dear lady, is your prerogative.” She picked up her purse, never even going through the ruse of putting on makeup. Her mission, for now, was accomplished. “They say that wives are the last to know.” She moved toward the door. “Usually because they're so wrapped up in their own little worlds, they don't see that they've lost their husband's interest.”

“Ryan loves me,” Lily declared.

Melissa merely nodded, a look of pity entering her eyes. “You go right on believing that, Lily. Who knows? You might even win out.” She paused for effect, then said, “But I doubt it.”

And with that, she walked out again.

A laugh of satisfaction bubbled up in her throat as she heard what she assumed was Lily's evening bag hitting the ladies' room door with a thud.

Score one for the home team, Melissa congratulated herself.

Eleven

“J
ust what the hell do you think you were doing?”

His fury getting the better of him, Jason Jamison fired the question at the woman posing as his wife the moment they were inside his car. With the windows raised, he didn't even wait until they had pulled away from the hotel.

The little bitch could ruin everything.

Melissa smoothed out her gown beneath the seat belt. She hated the way seat belts always made her dresses wrinkle. “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.”

Jason raced the sports car through a light as it changed to red. “Don't you? You were trying to get closer to Ryan Fortune than his underwear.”

He'd witnessed it early in the evening. Melissa standing close to Ryan, taking his arm, all but pressing her ample chest against it.

It was all Jason could do to keep up appearances dur
ing the course of the evening. Like a butterfly unable to find somewhere else to land, Melissa kept returning to Ryan. At one point, drawing closer, Jason had managed to overhear her side of the conversation. It was as he suspected. She was all but throwing herself at the man.

This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd sworn to avenge his late grandfather, a man who had been forced to live out the end of his days in squalor because of the Fortunes.

When Melissa laughed in response to his observation now, the sound annoyed the hell out of him. The rage Jason had been keeping bottled up inside of him, the rage that had led him to murder already once in his life, threatened now to rise over the top and spill out on this woman who appeared to be turning on him.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He envisioned her neck in its place.

“Why, darling,” she cooed in the same sultry voice she'd used on Ryan, “I'm just trying to help.”

Right, like he really believed that, Jason thought. He had eyes. Did she think he was born yesterday?

“The only person you're trying to help is yourself,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked his way. The interior of the car was dark and masked the contempt she knew was in them.

“Must be the company I've been keeping.” The car shot through another light. To her right, a car came to a screeching halt to avoid a collision. She stiffened, then took a deep breath to regain control. “Hey, careful, you don't want to get us killed before your triumph, do you?”

The malevolent smile softened as she turned toward him. “Really, Jason, you need to get control over that temper of yours or it'll undo all that nice work you've put in
at Fortune TX, Ltd., making a name for yourself. Ryan won't want to play with you anymore if he thinks you're a hothead.”

Jason hated the belittling tone she was taking. Hated the sound of her voice. If it wasn't for him, she'd still be living in that small town, hustling for dollars instead of living the high life.

“You let me worry about Ryan Fortune,” he growled. And then, because his ego demanded it, he couldn't help boasting, “I've got him eating out of my hand.”

Melissa moved the car's sun visor so that she could see herself in the passenger vanity mirror. Fussing with her hair until she was satisfied, she turned up the visor again.

“Try to think of me as added insurance. That's why you brought me into this thing, isn't it?”

“I brought you into this because having a wife made me look more respectable. Fortune seems to think that a married man's more stable than a bachelor.” This time, he couldn't make the light even if he gunned his engine. With effort, he put his foot on the brake. The car fishtailed before it came to a stop. He turned to glare at her. “But if he thinks my wife is a two-bit whore…”

If he meant to insult her, he was going to have to do better than that, Melissa thought, amused at his paltry attempt. Unlike him, she didn't have a low flash point. It took a great deal to make her lose her temper and take her eyes off the prize. In this case, the prize was Ryan Fortune. Or rather,
his
fortune.

The idea of being one of the richest women in Texas held great appeal for her.

“Not two-bit,” Melissa corrected indulgently. “Never two-bit.” She sighed, leaning back in the passenger seat.
“I won't bother arguing the whore part. There's no point. We both know that's true.” She lightly feathered her fingers through his hair and traced the outline of his ear. “Otherwise I wouldn't be here with you now, would I, sugar?”

He jerked his head back, still very much annoyed rather than aroused. “Stop that.”

Dropping her hand, Melissa shifted and sighed dramatically. “Whatever you say.” And then, because it suited her to irritate him, she added, “I'm sure that Ryan Fortune wouldn't tell me to stop that. He looks like a man who could definitely use a little wild time in the sack.” Her mouth curved as she thought about the older man. She bet he could still show a lady a good time if he put his mind to it. The kind of man who believed in slow loving instead of wham-bam-not-so-much-as-a-thank-you-ma'am, which represented Jason's style. “That wife of his looks like she's got a stick up her butt.”

Obsessed with his mission the way he was, Jason could smell trouble. “Don't you ruin this for me,” he warned, his tone dangerous. “I've put in a lot of time, planning his humiliation and death.”

Melissa closed her eyes, tired of Jason's voice. Tired of having to settle for what he had to offer when there was so much more she could have.

“Yes, I know. You've told me. Over and over again, you've told me. I don't think anyone likes the sound of your voice better than you, Jase.” And then she gave him her attention one final time before withdrawing into silence. “You might try learning something from him before you kill him, lover. Right now he's twice the man you'll ever be.”

It was like waving the proverbial red flag in front of a charging bull, and she knew it. Jason didn't disappoint her.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded hotly.

She refused to give him the satisfaction of cringing. As crazy as he was, Jason didn't scare her any. If she wanted to, she could make him jump through hoops, she told herself. After all, she'd gotten him to bring her along, hadn't she?

Hitched her star to a freaking sociopath, she had, but it suited her purposes at the time. She would cut him loose the moment she had Ryan Fortune.

“Just something for you to chew on, lover.” With that, Melissa leaned back against her seat, closed her eyes and shut Jason out entirely.

 

The house was too empty.

When Cruz returned to it at night, it stood right there waiting for him.

The loneliness.

It stood waiting in a shell of a house that was lost in darkness.

Just like his soul, Cruz thought, shutting the door behind him and flipping on a light.

Rather than illuminate, the light seemed to intensify the darkness outside its reach.

For a few days, it had almost been tolerable. He'd gone to pick up Hank the day after Savannah had left, and put the ranch hand up in the spare bedroom. Hank had remained two days, then pronounced himself fit to go back to work and back to the trailer.

Not that he blamed him, Cruz thought. The loneliness had probably gotten to him, too.

Cruz walked into the kitchen and went to the refrigerator out of habit rather than need. He had to keep up his energy.

The refrigerator was only half-full. Savannah had purposely not shopped the day before she'd left because they were supposed to be going away.

Supposed to be.

The words hung in the air before him, haunting him.

With a grunt, he cleared his head, then took out a hunk of cheddar cheese Savannah had used for grating, and threw it on the table.

Dinner.

Cutting a few pieces, he forced down a slice, then took a glass of water and all but drained it. Toying with a second piece, he pared it down to little more than pea-sized. Then he gave up.

There was no point in going through the motions. He just wasn't hungry.

Not for food, anyway. What he was hungry for was the sound of Savannah's voice. Hungry for a thud resounding from somewhere in the house that told him Luke was at it again.

Repackaging the cheese, Cruz put it back in the fridge and pulled out a beer instead. He popped the top and took a long, healthy swig.

Who would have ever thought it? he jeered to himself. Somewhere along the line, when he wasn't looking, Romeo had been replaced by a dyed-in-the-wool family man. The so-called stud who had prowled the Double Crown Ranch, hooking up with any woman he wanted, sometimes more than one in a single night, had turned into his own father.

The realization made Cruz shiver.

He would have never believed it, had anyone told him this would come to pass even as little as six years ago. But there was no denying that was what he'd become. A family man.

And right now his family was missing.

Taking his beer with him, Cruz wandered over to the bay window in the living room and looked out. A full moon cast a mournful light over the land. His land.

There was no stirring inside of him when he thought that. That was Savannah's doing.

Truth was, she had ruined him. Ruined him for any other woman. All he could think about was her, night and day.

But damn it, if she thought he was going to come crawling to her and apologize even though he was in the right, she was sadly mistaken. He could wait her out. After all, he was in their house. She was the one who was living on someone else's good graces. Eventually, she had to come home, right? She wasn't going to deprive Luke of his father just because of her pride.

Cruz drained his beer and crushed the can in his hand. He didn't want her coming back because of Luke, he wanted her coming back because of him. Because she felt as damn awful as he did.

He stared at the reflection of the lonely looking man in the bay window. Who the hell was he kidding? He wanted her to come back no matter what.

Just as long as she was home, that was all that counted.

With a sigh, he went back to the kitchen to throw the can away.

He still took his cell phone with him whenever he left the house in the morning. Just in case she called.

But with each day that went by, he was less and less certain that she was going to call. And more and more certain that he hated this life without her.

Nine days she'd been gone. Nine whole days and there hadn't been so much as a peep out of her. Damn stubborn woman, that was what she was.

He opened the refrigerator again to get another beer, then changed his mind and slammed the door. The sound echoed throughout the house, mocking him.

Feeling as if he were going to crawl out of his skin, he crossed back to the front door. Just before he went out, he felt for the cell phone in his front shirt pocket. Taking it out, he checked the battery to make sure it wasn't ready to die on him the way it had the first day. But there was enough of a charge. He tucked it back into his pocket and left the house.

He headed back to the stables.

Inside, he went to the stall where Diablo was kept, separated from the other horses like some kind of visiting dignitary—or a prisoner assigned to solitary confinement. It was done for a reason. Cruz didn't want the horse's attitude infecting the others, and he wanted the animal to feel isolated, except from him.

But tonight he was the one who felt isolated and in need of company.

Diablo's eyes were on him the moment he approached the stall. Maybe even the moment he entered the stable, Cruz mused.

Smiling, he picked up a curry brush just before he walked into the stall. “So how's it going?” he asked the horse.

The black stallion continued to eye him much the way enemies who had called a truce did. The trust was evolving, but it was a slow procedure.

Nothing good was ever hurried, Cruz thought. Except that first night when he'd made love with Savannah. Then it had been all flash and fire, passion and needs. And it had been good.

Damn it, he wanted her. Wanted her now. In his arms, in his bed. He wasn't sure just how much longer he was going to be able to hold out.

The animal was still watching him. If he concentrated, Cruz could almost feel the stallion's thoughts forming.

He'd come out here to force Savannah from his mind. Being around horses had always been soothing to him. It was as if this was where he was meant to be. Where he belonged. But now that his life had been upended, he felt as if he belonged nowhere.

“I've let you have your lead,” he said to Diablo in a soft, soothing voice, “but you know this can't go on forever. You're the horse, I'm the master. It's just something you're going to have to get used to.” With each word he uttered, Cruz moved closer. In the beginning, Diablo would barely tolerate him in the same corral. This was the horse's home ground and yet the animal didn't rear, didn't posture as Cruz approached. They'd made progress.

Too bad he couldn't make the same kind of progress on his own home ground, Cruz thought.

“But that doesn't mean you're any less a magnificent creature, just because you let me train you,” he continued. “See what I'm saying here? It's a two-way street. You get yourself a skill and you get yourself rewarded.” Cruz felt that the animal was listening to every word. Others scoffed that horses didn't understand people, but he maintained it was people who didn't understand horses. “A fine cutting
horse like you will bring in a pretty penny. You'll be regarded as something special.”

Drawing closer to the animal, Cruz put out his hand. The horse didn't move. Cruz slowly began to stroke the animal's muzzle.

It had taken him nearly two weeks to get to this point. Slow and steady, his mind whispered. The end was worth waiting for.

Then, to his surprise, the horse inclined his head and seemed to nuzzle him. Cruz laughed, feeling pleasure, something that had eluded him for quite some time now.

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