Fortune's Secret Husband. Karen Rose Smith
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to build them. My life isn’t all silver spoons and Big Ben.”
After a long, studying look, he nodded. “Noted. I won’t take the tabloid stories about you seriously anymore.”
“I’m surprised you read them.”
“Only when you’re on the cover.”
So he’d been curious about her and what was going on in her life? She was curious about him. “So, tell me what you’ve been doing for the past ten years. In Scotland, you explained you’d never work for your dad because he was manipulative and hard, and he had to control everything.”
“Yes, I told you that. After Scotland, I joined a construction crew, but I found I missed the horses on the ranch. So I signed on as a trainer at a quarter horse spread. I liked the work, and I liked being separate from my family.”
“But then?” she prompted.
“But then Dad had a stroke. At first we thought his one side would be completely paralyzed. But it’s amazing what rehabilitation can do now. I helped him with it. He’s so stubborn and independent that we set up a home gym. My mom asked me to live there and watch over him. When he went back to work, she asked me to be his right-hand man there again.”
“He didn’t ask you?”
“Are you kidding? He always expected me to work there, so that’s where I’ve been the past five years. But it’s time for a change. It’s time for me to leave. My plans are in the works. That’s where the loan and me finding out about our marriage have come into play.”
Because Lucie had known Chase before, she felt she could read into his expression and his words. He’d felt trapped for five years, and he couldn’t wait to break free. Now, however, he was trapped in a marriage he’d assumed had been dissolved.
“You want out. You want to be free.”
His gaze locked to hers. “Don’t you?”
She did, didn’t she? In a month, she’d be in Guatemala working on a new orphanage. In a month, Chase would be putting his plans into action. At that time, they’d be going their separate ways. That was the plan, wasn’t it?
Gazing into his eyes, she wasn’t so sure.
Lucie sat beside Chase in his truck as they drove back to her apartment. She folded her hands in her lap, and she could swear they were trembling a little. Why was that?
After their initial dip into what she was doing and what he was doing, they’d talked about mundane things. Maybe because both were afraid to go too deep into anything...maybe because the tension between them was evident to them both. There was tension for lots of reasons—regrets, resentment, something unfinished. Most of all, sexual tension remained. When his knee had brushed hers...when her fingers had tangled with his, reaching for a creamer...
Touch was taboo.
Suddenly Chase said, “You said you’ll be in Austin for a month. Is that a solid deadline?”
“Yes, it is,” she answered. “I’m meeting my mother in Guatemala on the first of April. She has set up introductions to officials who can get the ball rolling as far as construction goes.”
“You have a site picked out?”
“We do.”
He changed the subject a bit. “So you’re officially a Fortune?”
“Yes, I am. When my mother found out about her heritage, that she had a long-lost sister and brother, she changed her name to Josephine Fortune Chesterfield, and I changed mine. It seemed right. Her sister and her family have come to mean everything to Mum. Now that Jensen and Brodie and Amelia all live in Horseback Hollow, our visits can become more raucous than royal.”
Chase chuckled. “Would you say your family’s become closer?”
“Amelia and I have definitely become closer. I know that seems odd, with her living in the United States and me living primarily in England. But when we were growing up, there always seemed to be a wall between us. I’m not sure exactly why. Maybe because we had nannies and were at boarding school. Maybe because our lives were very formal.”
“With her married to a cowboy, is her life as formal now?” Chase asked.
“Quinn is down-to-earth. With their baby, Amelia’s just like any new mom. Maybe we all just seem more human in Texas. I don’t know.”
When Chase drove into the parking garage, Lucie was almost sorry. In spite of the tension, she’d enjoyed breakfast and all of their conversations. He was more mature now, with a broader view of life than he’d had at twenty-one. She could tell he wasn’t as impulsive and he thought things through. He wasn’t so wild, though she could still see deep passion in his eyes. His father’s stroke had apparently changed his focus on life. Now he seemed to know what he wanted for his future.
Chase said, “I’ll park and walk you back to your apartment.”
“It will be safer if you don’t do that,” Lucie informed him. “You can watch me until I’m in the elevator if you’d like, but then I’ll be safe from prying eyes or from a stray reporter. The wig and the clothes help, but anyone who spies on me regularly could probably identify me. We don’t want anyone to identify you with me.”
Chase was silent as he drove up to the second level, through the garage and around the bend and then followed the exit sign to another ramp. No cars trailed them. No one with a camera was evident. Chase should probably change the level he parked on if they ever did this again.
There was no reason to do this again. Legal documents could be sent back and forth by courier.
Instead of just pulling up outside the glass doors that led into the elevator bank, Chase slowed, braked and then backed into a parking place.
“What are you doing?”
“If I’m going to stay until you get on the elevator, I don’t want to block traffic.”
That made sense. She fingered her purse, a simple, natural leather bag that didn’t snag anyone’s attention. She knew she had to look at him. That was only proper. But she also knew that when she did, she’d get caught by the dark, knowing expression in his eyes.
Stalling, she unfastened her seat belt, but then she angled toward him and realized he was already gazing at her. “I enjoyed breakfast.”
“The chocolate chip pancakes there are the best.”
“It wasn’t just the pancakes,” she admitted. “It was good catching up with you.”
He unfastened his seat belt and turned toward her. She wasn’t really so very far away from him. She caught a whiff of either soap or aftershave. Like lime, and manly. She fell under the spell of his dark eyes and the way his hair dipped over his brow. He’d tossed his Stetson into the back, and she could remember the feel of the thickness of his hair sliding through her fingers.
The tremble was back in her hands, and she felt she had to make conversation to hide her nervousness. “I like to do things that make me feel like a real person. This breakfast did that.”
He moved only slightly, but he was big and the cab of the truck seemed small. He was closer to her now as he reached out a hand and smoothed strands of hair from her wig away from her face. “You are a very real person, Lucie Fortune Chesterfield. I’ve always known that.”
“Even when the tabloids make me look like a cartoon?”
He smiled but didn’t move his hand from her cheek. She was both hot and cold and afraid to move.
“You could never look like a cartoon. You’re much too beautiful for that.”
Her father had called her beautiful, and her mother told her she was. But