Cowboys 08 - Luke (43 page)

It was time for him to leave, but his feet wouldn't move. He might as well have been turned into a statue.

"You know you have to go," he said to the man in the mirror.

"No, I don't," the man said back to him. "She loves me."

"Nobody can love a man like you," Luke said, "at least not enough to make a difference."

"You'll never know until you try. Even black-hearted villains want love. Don't you deserve at least that much?"

Did he deserve love, or had his turning his back on everyone who loved him disqualified him forever? No, he'd never done anything worthy of love.

"Don't you want to be loved?" the man in the mirror asked.

All resistance to admitting the truth, to accepting his weakness, collapsed. Not even the fear of failure could keep him from admitting he wanted Valeria's love more than he wanted life. The last sixteen years had been an empty parade of jobs, women, people entering and leaving his life like so many cars on a passing train. A few passed his way more than once, but they usually kept going. When they didn't, he did.

Some had offered to make a place for him in their lives, but he always refused. Jake's support, Isabelle's devotion, his brother's loyalty-none of them had been powerful enough to reach the cold hard center that was his parents' loathing for the son they created. Additional layers of hardness had been applied by orphanages, foster parents, communities that drove out homeless children. To cut himself off even further from his feelings, he'd added layer after layer until he was certain the core was impregnable.

Then he found Valeria.

From the very first, he'd been helpless to control his feelings for her. Nothing he said or did had been able to drive her from his mind. Or heart. With Valeria came hope that she could love him enough, that he could trust her love to last, that he could believe there was something inside him worthy of love.

But even though his heart told him not to give up, his head counseled him to stop being a fool. Not even she could dissolve the layers of self-loathing that cut him off from his feelings, from connection to his family. Valeria had fallen in love with the first man she saw who wasn't after her money. As soon as she discovered the world was full of fine, honorable men who could love her just as much as he did, who could give her the kind of life she deserved, she would find she didn't love him after all. As soon as she got back among people of her own kind, she would see they didn't fit, that he didn't belong. She would be sorry, she would try to hide it, but they would both know it had ended.

"It's better not to begin something you know can only end in pain," Luke told the man in the mirror.

"You're a coward," the man said. "You face men with guns all the time, but you haven't the courage to trust your heart, to trust
her
heart to see in you things you can't see in yourself."

"I know myself."

"You could be wrong. Isn't the chance to be loved, to be
saved,
worth the gamble?"

"I still have to leave," he told the man in the mirror.

But he hoped he was wrong.

"Nothing exciting ever happens to me," Lillie Tegetthoff complained after Valeria finished telling Lillie about her trip through the Arizona Territory.

"You could have had most of it with my compliments," Valeria said. "You can have no idea how horrified I felt when Rudolf calmly fired into what he thought was me asleep in the bed."

"You poor darling."

They were sitting in the Tegetthoff's salon in New York City. The sumptuously decorated house was nearly as big as Valeria's palace in Belgravia. Obviously Americans liked to live in splendor just as much as Europeans. Luke would certainly disapprove of the number of servants it took to run the place.

"But that wasn't half as bad as having Otto try to kill me and learning my own uncle had paid him to do it," Valeria said.

"You must have been overjoyed to hear Matthais died of apoplexy when he heard your Mr. Attmore had put out a contract on him."

"What?"

"Didn't you know?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't have let him kill my uncle, regardless of what he'd tried to do."

Lillie smiled as if she knew a secret. "I guess that's why he didn't tell you."

"I'll have a lot to say to Luke when I see him."

"I hope it's to thank him for saving your life, several times over."

Despite Valeria's objections, Luke had insisted upon bringing her to New York immediately after Rudolf's death. She had worried he might try to get rid of her since he still flatly refused to consider marrying her. But when he settled into an expensive hotel next to the exclusive apartment building where Lillie and her husband lived, Valeria knew he loved her. She just had to figure out a way around his foolish objections to marriage.

One of the massive oak doors to the sitting room swung open, and Lillie's husband entered. "You're looking absolutely beautiful today. The New York air must be good for you."

They all laughed at that. Valeria had coughed the whole first day. "I never thought I'd long for desert air."

"Is it really the air, or are you looking for a way to escape from all those fortune hunters?" Marcus Tegetthoff asked. "With so many young men anxious to get to know you and your money better, you might be getting married before we know it."

"I think Valeria had a magnificent debut," Lillie said. "And not every handsome young man is a fortune hunter."

Valeria tried to smile. Lillie had thrown a lavish party to introduce her to New York society. As an ex-princess of wealth, beauty, and fame, she'd had dozens of men vying for her attention. The heat, the crush of bodies, the noise, the extravagant flattery, the brilliant flashes of white in too wide smiles-all of it reminded her of Belgravia. Form lacking substance. Despite the attention, her thoughts had remained on the only man who'd refused Lillie's invitation.

Luke.

"I don't think I'll be getting married just yet."

"Not even if a certain man should ask you?" Lillie asked.

Her husband's eyes widened with interest.

"That might change things," Valeria said, trying to hide a smile. "But I haven't been able to convince him he's good enough for a princess."

"Surely you jest?" Marcus asked.

"No," his wife said. "Valeria is blessed with beauty, money and brains. Instead of being thankful, the idiot thinks he's not good enough."

"He's not an idiot," Valeria said.

"I'd say he was a sensible man," Marcus said. "You did say he is a gunfighter, didn't you? What could you two possibly have in common?"

Valeria knew it was impossible to explain why Luke was the only man she'd ever be able to love. Like Marcus, people generally saw what she had at first, what Luke lacked.

The appearance of the butler saved Valeria from having to answer.

"Mr. Luke Attmore," he announced.

Chapter Twenty-five

Luke entered the room, and Valeria's breath caught in her throat. She couldn't believe how handsome he looked. She'd thought he was beautiful in the desert. But here in New York, bathed, shaved, his hair perfectly cut, wearing fashionable clothes that fit him like a glove, he was every bit the image of the prince Rudolf would never have been. His blond hair gleamed like wheat in the. late summer sun, his blue eyes glistened like the azure sky. His deeply tanned skin looked radiantly healthy in comparison to the pale skin of the New Yorkers. The fact that he was so tall and broad-shouldered only enhanced his appeal.

He would have made a perfect king. People would have worshiped him.

Lillie rose to greet her visitor. "I'm very angry with you for refusing to come to my party."

"I would have been a curiosity," he said, "not a role that appeals to me."

"I'm a little curious about you myself," Marcus said.

"I've asked around. It seems you've got some very good connections."

Luke searched his memory but couldn't think of anyone among his clients who would have admitted knowing him.

"Madison Randolph speaks very highly of you."

"We were sort of neighbors back in Texas." "I understand Jake Maxwell is your father."

"He was kind enough to adopt me and my brother when the orphanage threw us out." He smiled. "We were too much for the good people to handle."

"Is that why you turned to being a gunfighter?" Luke's expression turned wintery. "It's a way of making a living."

"From what Madison tells me, a very good one." "He's made a few investments for me."

"It must have been more than that. He tells me you're a rich man."

"Rich!" The word exploded from Valeria. "Is it true?" she asked. "The whole time you were telling me we had nothing in common, you were rich?"

"I'm not really rich."

"He's a millionaire," Marcus said. "That qualifies as rich in my book."

Valeria could tell Luke hadn't wanted her to know this. It hurt. She didn't understand.

"I hate to change the subject," Luke said, "but I came to say good-bye. My train is leaving this evening."

Valeria felt her heart in her throat, but she refused to panic. Five hundred years of successful monarchs counseled her to remain calm, to rely on tactics, not to let emotion prod her into rash action. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To Texas."

"Why Texas?" Marcus asked. "They can't need more gunfighters there."

"You can't leave tonight," Valeria said, ignoring Marcus.

"Why not?" Luke asked.

"Because I won't have time to pack. And don't ask why. You know I'm coming with you."

"You can't."

"You can't stop me. It's a free country, remember? I can buy a ticket to anywhere I want. It won't matter if you change your mind and go somewhere else. I'm rich, too. I can buy lots of tickets."

"You can't come with me," Luke said.

"I can, and I will."

"Marcus, I have to ask you about the new rug I mean to buy for the salon," Lillie said. "Now is a perfect time to check the colors. The sunlight is just right."

"It's overcast," Marcus pointed out.

"That's why it's perfect. I'll keep the curtains drawn so the sun won't fade the carpets." She stood, started to leave the room. Finally figuring out what she was doing, her husband followed.

"Did you put her up to that?" Luke asked.

"No, and don't change the subject."

"I'm not. The discussion is over. You can't follow me, and that's final."

"It will only be final when you agree to marry me."

"Valeria, we've been over this time and time again."

"And you've put forward the same stupid argument."

"You don't know me. You don't understand."

"You
are the one who doesn't understand. You think you're rotten, corrupt, evil, but I think you're just about the finest man I've ever known."

"I'm not. I'm-"

"Shut up, and listen for a moment, dammit."

"Now I've ruined your language. You never used to cuss."

"Maybe I should have. You might have listened to me sooner. I love you, Luke Attmore. I always will. There's not a woman in New York who wouldn't understand that the instant she set eyes on you. You're gorgeous. Big, strong, handsome, and a wonderful lover. What woman could want more?"

"You didn't tell-"

"Of course not, but I would if it would make you believe I want to marry you more than anything else in the world."

"Why me? And don't mention my muscles or my blue eyes."

"I didn't fall in love with your looks. They're a nice bonus, but they're not the real you. You saw something in me no one else saw. You saw a person who was too ignorant, too locked into one way of thinking, to realize she was little more than a painted doll. And you cared enough to make me see that. I fought against it, but you wouldn't give up. You kept chipping away at the porcelain until you exposed the person inside.

"Then you told me what I could be if I just had the courage to try. You called them freedoms, but they were ways for me to become a real person. To be my real self. You made me feel important. Me, not Princess Valeria of Badenberg. I'd never realized until you showed me that there was a difference. When I held back, you bullied me. When I was frightened, you comforted me. All the time you protected me."