Big Sky Dynasty. B.J. Daniels
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poured them both a drink and shoved a glass of brandy into Dalton’s hand.
Dalton took a drink, fortifying himself, and sat down. He dreaded this. It would be bad enough admitting the truth to a stranger, but to his brother Lantry?
“I can think of only one reason you’d get married and keep it a secret,” Lantry said as he took the seat opposite his brother. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Dalton took another drink of the brandy. It burned all the way down but it seemed to steady him a little. “She wasn’t pregnant. She drugged me.”
Lantry laughed, thinking he was joking. He sobered and swore. “You’re serious.”
“Yeah.”
“What the hell? The marriage would be invalid if either party was under the influence of alcohol or drugs.”
“And how do propose I prove that after nine years?”
“Not even a justice of the peace would have married you if he thought—”
“You don’t know this woman or what she’s capable of. I have no idea how she pulled it off but she did. I saw the marriage license.”
Lantry shook his head. “So how exactly did you end up drugged and married?”
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about the beginning. Where’d you meet this woman?” Lantry asked. He’d put his law practice in Houston on hold for a while. It was clear to all five sons that their father wanted them in Montana to be closer to him and Kate.
It was still unclear what Lantry planned to do since his Houston law practice specializing in divorce was very lucrative. He’d go broke in Whitehorse, Montana, since the population—let alone the divorce rate—was low.
Not that any of them needed the money. Grayson had divided a vast portion of his fortune between them years ago. That was one reason nine years ago, Dalton had been in a bar in Galveston just down from where he kept his sailboat.
“I met Nicci in a bar in Galveston,” Dalton began. “The moment I saw her I was like one of those cobras that comes out of the wicker basket to the sound of the flute. Later, I realized that she was the one who’d come after me.”
Lantry shrugged. “The woman did a number on you.” Clearly he’d heard more than his share of stories like this one as a divorce attorney in Houston. He just hadn’t heard one quite like this, Dalton would bet on that.
“To say Nicci came on strong is like saying getting hit by a freight train hurts.”
“She targeted you, clearly knowing who you were.”
Dalton cut his eyes to his brother. “Damn, I had no idea you were so cynical about women.”
“Not women. Marriage. Come on, this one is a nobrainer. She pretended she’d never heard of Grayson Corbett, right? And the next thing you know you’re married.”
Dalton was shaking his head, although Lantry was right. Nicci had said she’d never heard of the Texas Corbetts and he’d believed her.
“She did come after me, but not for the Corbett money,” he said. “Nicci’s wealthy, the only heir to multibillionaire Nicholas Barron Angeles. Hell, she’s richer than Dad.”
“She told you this, right? And you bought it hook, line and sinker. Damn, Dalton, what were you thinking? Let me guess, you didn’t sign a prenup.”
“I told you, she drugged me. Anyway I was eighteen. I didn’t have much and she was rich. So what would have been the point?”
“The point is that even if she wasn’t lying through her teeth about how rich she was at the time, now it is nine years later. Now you have money and maybe she’s blown all of hers, if she ever had it. The point is you’re screwed.”
Dalton realized Lantry might be right. Nicci could have blown through her fortune by now and was looking to pick up a little cash. That would explain why it had taken her nine years to show up in his life again. But when he thought of that dark, humid night on the water, he doubted Nicci’s thirst for blood was monetary.
“So where has she been the last nine years?” Lantry asked.
Dalton shook his head. “I haven’t seen her since our honeymoon at sea. We parted ways a few days in.”
His brother looked surprised. “And you never heard from her, tried to contact her, thought about divorcing her?”
“I thought she was dead.”
Lantry looked momentarily taken aback. “What made you think she was dead? No, don’t answer that.” He suddenly looked as sick as Dalton felt.
Dalton rose from his chair and stepped to the window to look out. The black clouds of the thunderstorm hung on the horizon. It must still be storming not far from the ranch.
“Do you believe in evil?” When Lantry didn’t answer, Dalton turned to look at him. “Nicci’s evil incarnate and now she’s come to Whitehorse.”
Lantry shook his head. “If she’s in town, she isn’t after your soul.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Chapter Three
An hour after Georgia had closed the shop for the day she glanced up at the sound of a key in the alley door. For an instant, she was startled.
The door swung open, a gust of cool evening air rushing in before the door closed again. For a moment, she’d completely forgotten that she’d rented the apartment.
“Georgia?” Nicci called as she stepped into the shop.
“Over here.” The only light was a small one near the shelves where Georgia was busy finishing unloading the boxes that had arrived that morning.
The day had gotten away from her. She’d called in Miss Thorp, her former spinster teacher, to watch the shop while she helped Nicci bring up her bags from her rental car and then had gotten caught up in visiting and helping Nicci get settled in.
Miss Thorp had been Georgia’s typing teacher in high school. “You’ll never be a typist,” the spinster had told her repeatedly during the course. Georgia still didn’t know Miss Thorp’s first name since the woman refused to be paid for watching the shop.
“Sitting here isn’t all that different from sitting at home,” Miss Thorp had said. “I like the change of scenery.”
As long as Georgia didn’t get Miss Thorp started on the evils of computers, she proved to be the perfect parttime, occasional helper for the shop. Especially since she didn’t mind being called in at the last minute and worked for free.
Since business was often slow between classes, Miss Thorp would sit and read, which was just fine with Georgia. The one time she’d had her help her with a shipment of yarn, the typing teacher had complained about the way Georgia was doing it.
Georgia had enjoyed visiting with her new renter. Normally, she was shy, especially around strangers, but Nicci set her at ease at once by getting her talking about her two favorite subjects, Whitehorse and knitting.
Their conversation had been interspersed with laughter and comfortable silences as Nicci set about moving in. For a woman not planning to stay long she had a lot of summer clothing.
“Thank you for keeping me company,” Nicci had said at one point. “I feel as if I’ve known you forever. Is that odd?”
“No,” Georgia said. “I feel the same way.” And it was as if they’d only been apart and were now just getting reacquainted.
Georgia was thankful when Nicci didn’t ask about the Corbetts. Anyway, she figured Nicci probably knew more about them than she did.
“Still