Fortune's Vengeful Groom

He didn’t seem convinced. “I suppose. Too bad I won’t be meeting him tonight. Patricia’s been a little down lately, so I thought a romantic dinner for two at her favorite restaurant would help lift her spirits.”

“Patricia mentioned that you wouldn’t be home tonight for dinner. I think she’s excited about some alone time with you.”

Eliza envied the love her father and Patricia shared. He was devoted to her. And after losing Elizabeth—Eliza’s mother—early in life, he’d rebounded with a disastrous marriage to Trina Watters before finding true love again with Patricia. Eliza had once thought she’d found that same kind of love, but nothing with Reese had worked out as she’d hoped.

Her father glanced down at the cookbook still in her lap. “So what kind of fabulous meal are you planning for tonight?”

“Don’t say fabulous and meal in the same sentence when you’re talking about me. I’ll be lucky if I don’t poison the man.”

Now, there’s a thought.

Her father’s lips twitched, but he didn’t comment any further. Nash Fortune was a wonderful husband to his wife and a caring father to Eliza, but he never showed her much outward affection. She knew her father loved her, but he’d also held high expectations for all his children. Case, Creed and Eliza all did their best never to disappoint him. They’d wanted his approval as much as his love. But Blake and Skylar, her half brother and half sister, were a different matter.

And now, with Reese Parker on the scene, the truth of her six-year secret marriage might hurt her family, disappoint her father and splash unfavorable headlines in the newspapers about the Fortune name.

Eliza shoved that thought aside and instead focused on something else. “Was my mother a good cook?”

Her father stared off for a moment as if reliving another time in his life. When he spoke, his voice broke with a certain reverence mingled with pain. “Your mother was good at everything she did….”

Eliza listened carefully, noting the momentary win-some look on her father’s face. It was an expression she’d seldom witnessed.

“Except cooking,” he finished.

She released an amused sigh. “Oh, Dad, really? I take after her?”

He looked into her eyes. “She was smart and dedicated to what she believed in, pretty as a picture—and couldn’t cook worth a darn. Yes, you take after her.”

Eliza had heard some of these things before, but she never minded hearing them again. It made her feel closer to a mother she’d never known. She’d wanted so much to know the kind of unconditional love that she’d seen among her girlfriends with their mothers.

“I loved her dearly, Eliza. You know that.”

She nodded. “I do know that.”

Her father stood, then and placed a rare but much-needed kiss to her forehead. “Good. And, honey, no matter what you cook tonight, if the man is a real gentleman, he’ll eat it without complaint.”

“Except the man isn’t a gentleman,” Eliza said to Nicole over the phone hours later. “And the weather gods aren’t cooperating, either. A light mist is falling. We can’t eat out on the veranda as I’d hoped.”

“So why not use the dining room?”

“No, I can’t do that. Family. Patricia and my dad will be gone, but I can’t chance anyone else popping into the house and overhearing our conversation. I’ve set everything up in my design studio. If the rain stops, then we can go out onto the veranda.”

Her gaze traveled around her beloved room, where she’d spend hours dreaming up designs and wishing that one day she could open her own studio. She realized suddenly—and perhaps too late—how the room appeared. In an effort to conceal the mess, she’d arranged beautiful lengths of silk and satin cloths, draping them over bolts of fabric, design charts, spools of thread and ribbon. With soft lighting, her work area hidden and colorful material flowing in an array of delicacy, she’d unintentionally created a dining area that one might conceive as seductive.

“I think this might be a mistake, Nic,” she said slowly, trying to calm her impending panic.

“You’ll do fine, Lizzie. You always do. Just keep your head up, your mind on something else and you’ll get through this evening.”

That had always been her problem with Reese. Whenever he was in the room, she couldn’t focus on anything but him. She’d met him right after watching the rodeo and walked up to him in a meet-’n’-greet line to shake his hand. He’d held on to her hand a little longer than the other cowboys had and looked deeply into her eyes with a certain sweet promise, then released her to shake the next person’s hand. She’d been fascinated, transfixed in the moment—and disappointed when she’d left the rodeo without seeing him again.

So when he slid in the seat right next to her that night at her hotel bar, she’d been captivated by his slow and easy manner, quick wit and undeniable sex appeal. She’d fallen hard for Reese Parker, and she’d realized right then, that what she’d felt for Warren Keyes wasn’t love at all. She’d dismissed her feelings for him quite easily after meeting Reese.

She’d had the real thing with Reese—or so she believed. And when he’d betrayed her, her world had crumbled apart.

“Thanks, Nic. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She’d never regret telling her dear friend the truth. She’d been a godsend today, coaching her through the cooking and giving her moral support.

“So, are you wearing a knockout dress?” Nic asked.

“No, just a plain black cocktail dress with simple lines. I don’t really care how I look to Reese.”

Nic sighed. “Eliza,” she said, taking a serious tone, “you were married to him. I mean, you’re still married to him. A woman who’s been placed in your situation would surely want the man to eat crow…at least for a little while.”

“It’s not crow, Nic. It’s pot roast. You helped me with the recipe, remember?”

“Is that a joke coming from my worried friend? Maybe there’s hope for you after all. Besides, I know that black dress you’re talking about. And it’s killer on you. You could make a burlap sack look great with your figure.”

Eliza closed her eyes briefly, wondering if Nicole had a point. After all, why had she chosen Reese’s favorite meal to serve unless a small part of her wanted him to see what he’d missed out on these past years. A small part of her wanted him to recognize that he’d thrown away an abiding love. Maybe she had chosen a dress, though conservative in design with a high neckline and a decent hemline, that seemed to set off her curves. With Eliza’s body, unless she truly did choose a sack to wear, she could hardly conceal her womanly form.

When the doorbell rang, she froze. I need more time, she thought. I’m not ready for this. “He’s here,” she breathed into the phone.

“Eliza, keep your cool. Be honest with him. And whatever you do, don’t…”

“What, Nic? Don’t what?”

“Don’t fall for the guy again.”

“Not a chance. I’m immune to his charm now. I’ve learned my lesson with Reese Parker.”

She clung dearly to those thoughts as she descended the stairs and greeted her estranged husband.

Reese Parker stood outside the Fortune estate, barely containing his temper. The last time he’d been here, he’d been effectively tossed off the property. Now he was an invited guest. Hell, not exactly. It had cost him to get this invitation, but it would be well worth the money paid to see Eliza’s reaction when she learned the truth about him. She’d toyed with his affections in the past, then cast him aside. Reese would only give her a dose of her own medicine.

He rang the doorbell, and when the door opened, he was surprised to find a nervous Eliza standing there instead of one of the staff. “Still keeping secrets, darlin’?”

Her chin jutted up, angling her nose in the air, but she couldn’t conceal the rosy color flaming her cheeks. “I thought we could be civil to one another tonight.”

Think again, he wanted to say, but she did have a point. Nothing would get settled if they couldn’t stand to look at each other all evening.

Although looking at Eliza had never been his problem. She’d captured his attention from the moment they’d met. Tonight, she dressed in a classy black dress that attempted to hide a body he’d tried damn hard to forget. With blond hair caressing her shoulders and those soft blue eyes—glaring at him right now—Reese remembered her all too well, in and out of her clothes.

He stepped inside and handed her a bottle of Dom Pérignon.

A faint smile crossed her lips when she glanced at the bottle he’d given her.

When I make my first million, we’ll celebrate with Dom Pérignon.

Reese had always wanted the best for her, no matter the cost, and now that he could afford it, he knew the champagne would taste bitter to them both.

“I keep my promises,” he said quietly.