The Unfortunate Miss Fortunes

by Jennifer Crusie Eileen Dreyer Anne Stuart

  Danny looked around at the fairly deserted streets. ‘I must be. Here you are. Here am I. Waiting for an explana­tion for why you disappeared like The Runaway Bride.’

  Giving her hair one last agitated yank, Dee sighed. ‘Please. If you like me, don’t quote movies.’

  He didn’t like her. He was using her, just like the other men Xan had sent to smoke her out. Xan dealt in men the way a Crip sold crack.

  ‘You ran off so fast, I wasn’t sure what happened,’ he said, looking concerned. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

  He stepped closer. Dee stepped back. The street by the store had emptied, and the wind had kicked up, catching a flyer for the Elks’ chicken dinner and plastering it against the Civic Pride trash container on the corner. At the horizon, a gathering of clouds showed purple. Portents of the storm to come.

  ‘You can explain about my Aunt Xan.’

  He offered a chagrined grin. ‘She said you’d be upset.’

  ‘And she’d be right.’ Dee shoved her hair off her forehead. ‘I’m not fond of liars. I’m even less fond of people who play games.’

  He held up his hands, the image of innocence. ‘No more games. No lies. I shouldn’t have done it in the first place, but this was important to Mr Delaney. And . . .’ He shrugged, looking faintly ashamed. ‘I didn’t know you then.’

  ‘Well, you know me now,’ she said. ‘So you can begin to make amends. And that begins with how you really found us.’

  ‘Will you tell me more about your parents?’

  Dee couldn’t help staring at him, presumptuous prick.

  ‘You’re just going to have to stick around and find out, aren’t you?’

  She really hated this. How could she know what to do? Her instincts were to run. Well, first to beat the crap out of him with her briefcase and then run. But if she ran, she’d never know just what his relationship was to Xan. What Xan really wanted.

  If only she hadn’t seen him in the dust. If only Mare hadn’t put that suggestion in her head.

  ‘Would you like to go back to the Fork?’ he asked. ‘I think they like me there.’

  Dee snorted. ‘They’d have your babies there. But no, I’d rather have some privacy.’

  ‘My room?’

  ‘Privacy, Mr James.’ She looked around the uninspiring streets for inspiration. ‘I walk up the stairs at the Lighthorse with you, and by morning every woman in town is going to be camped in my front garden wanting details.’

  ‘Your place.’

  She didn’t even bother to answer. Danny James was not coming anywhere near her house.

  ‘It’s a nice night,’ Danny said, looking back toward the river. ‘You want to try the mountain?’

  Dee looked that way herself. The late light bathed the cliffs in gold, and the moon hung half seen amid the trees. Maybe that wasn’t a bad idea. She did feel as if she had power up atop those cliffs.

  Danny waited patiently for her, his hands still stuffed in his pockets, his hair rippling in the gusting breezes, that silver chain glinting just once against his neck. Dee still didn’t have on any underwear. She’d still be forced to snuggle up to him all the way up the mountain . . .

  Slapping the briefcase against Danny’s chest, she stalked over to the bike. ‘Fine. But it had better be everything I’ve ever dreamed of.’

  She caught Danny’s delighted smile out of the corner of her eye and decided to ignore it. Within five minutes, she was glad she did. And not because she wanted to see the cliffs. Danny had taken the route along the old Cobble­stone Road, something Dee had never done on a bike. Maybe it was the no-underwear business. Maybe it was because Dee was already about as on edge as she could be. Suddenly the bike was acting like a big, bloodred vibrator. Good God. Did Mare know about this? Considering all the time Mare had spent on a bike with Crash, Dee’d bet it was a certainty. Maybe if things worked out, Dee’d spring for a bike herself. And find another town with lots of cobblestones.

  They left the cobbles somewhere between delight and disaster, and made it the rest of the way up Salem’s Mountain without incident. If Dee hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn Danny had been up here before. He didn’t just instinctively ride right to her favorite spot. When he climbed off the bike, he walked straight into the stone circle by the edge of the cliff.

  Dee loved to stand dead center in the circle by the stand­ing stone, where she swore she could gather power through her fingertips. Danny James stopped in the same exact place. Dead center.

  Digging his hands back into his jeans pockets, he looked around him. ‘This place should be reserved for pagan rituals, ya know?’

  Dee should have known. ‘Really? Why do you say that?’

  He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I can see witches dancing here, I guess. Right at the edge of the world, with the full moon rising over this big rock.’

  She found she could actually smile. ‘Did you know you’re standing in a stone circle?’

  He literally jumped back. ‘Here?’

  She walked in through the southernmost portal and lifted her face to the sky, just like always. ‘Legend has it that about three hundred years ago witches used to dance here during the full moon.’

  He stared at her. ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘Nope. Lots of magic here. You must have felt it.’

  That made him look spooked. ‘Not at all. I’m a researcher. I imagined it. I’m always doing things like that.’

  Or he heard the old voices, just as she did. When she wasn’t crouched in the grass nibbling clover, that is. She spent a lot of time on this mountain in fur.

  ‘It’s time to talk,’ she said.

  He refused to face her. If she’d tried to pull the scam he had, she wouldn’t have faced her, either. Still, she couldn’t believe how sad she was. Just more proof that she had no business fantasizing, she guessed.

  Danny deliberately walked outside the circle and eased down against the big oak that shaded it. ‘Come into my office,’ he said, arms on bent knees.

  Dee was sure she should say no. She needed to protect herself from this man, after all.

  No she didn’t. Xan was coming for them. By tomorrow night, she’d be gone from Salem’s Fork. How much could Danny James hurt her in twenty-four hours? More than he had, anyway. So she eased herself down to the ground, close enough to him to feel the heat from his body in the cool evening air.

  ‘I’m glad you left your hair down,’ Danny said, as Dee stretched out her legs and tugged her skirt over her knees. ‘With your hair down, I can imagine you dancing up here with the old girls. Come to think of it, that might be fun. Full moon’s coming in a day or two. Why don’t we come back up and dance?’

  Beltane, ancient holiday of fertility. Just the idea sent a waterfall of shivers through her. If there was anybody she wished she could have danced for on the night of Beltane, it would have been Danny James. Especially considering what traditionally came next. Literally.

  ‘My Aunt Xan,’ she said out to the deepening cobalt of dusk. ‘How did you find her?’

  But Danny just shook his head, slipping his arm around her shoulder. ‘Not yet,’ he demurred, resting his head atop hers. ‘Let’s just enjoy the night for a bit first, huh?’

  Damn him. He fit so comfortably. He sounded so reasonable. She had no business trusting him, especially considering the fact that just his touch was setting off more electricity than Mare in the throes of her power. But it was so beautiful up here. So spiritual in a way no modern church leader would comprehend. There was power and grace and bone-deep joy here, where the witches had danced. It had always been her spot. Now, she’d never think of it again without feeling Danny James’s cheek resting against her hair.

  ‘Actually,’ he said after a few minutes of companionable silence, ‘Xantippe found me.’

  Dee closed her eyes, stricken. Then Xan had sent him. Could there be any way on earth to separate them in her mind now?

  He lifted his hea
d. His arm stayed where it was. ‘I had . . . um, just gotten the assignment,’ he said, ‘and had spent time doing the primary research. I contacted your parents’ organization, and a few of their old employees. Who wouldn’t talk, thank you very much. Whatever else your parents did, they inspired loyalty.’

  ‘I know. And Xan?’

  ‘Said that she’d heard about me from one of them. Wanted me to get the story right, and thought the best place to start would be with you three.’

  ‘You never met her?’

  ‘I’d planned on going to Santa Fe from here. That’s where she is.’

  It still sounded plausible. And she told you how to find us.’

  He shrugged. ‘She said you’d probably go by Murphy,

  O’Brien, or Ortiz, and that it should be easy to find a Deirdre, Elizabeth, and Moira in the same place.’ She thought he smiled. ‘It wasn’t, but I managed.’

  ‘Have you talked to her since you found us?’

  ‘Just to tell her I had. She asked me to call her after I talk to you.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Her cell phone. In Santa Fe.’

  But Xan wasn’t in Santa Fe. Dee didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. Xan had used Danny as a stalking horse. And just like twice before, she was now coming for them.

  ‘And exactly why would you name your bike after her, Danny? Bikes are very personal. They’re . . . they’re . . .’

  ‘Sexual substitutes?’ He fingered the loose curls by her temple. ‘I guess it was the sound of her voice. Throaty and sexy, like a bike engine. Just a whisper, so you had to really listen closely, ya know?’

  Dee pulled away from his fingers, but she didn’t get up. ‘Yeah. I know.’

  She wondered just what it was Xan had whispered. There was no way she wouldn’t have known how sexy Danny James was.

  ‘Xantippe said that there’s a breach between you she’s been trying to heal,’ Danny said. ‘She sounded upset.’

  Dee’s laugh was hoarse. ‘She doesn’t want to heal anything. And she’s not upset.’

  ‘Then what is she?’

  No, this she couldn’t deal with sitting down. Climbing to her feet, she walked to the edge of the circle, where violets clotted the grass and the sky seemed endless. Beyond the cliff, the river reflected a sporadic moon, and the town faded into geometric shadows. It was what she was painting right now.

  Dee pulled in a deep breath. How to explain Xan to this seemingly normal, wholesome man? She’s Maleficent and

  Marilyn Monroe. She’s a carnivore masquerading as a flower. She’s every man’s fantasy and every woman’s nightmare. Corrupt, clever, and concupiscent. Xan feeds off people like a vampire, and gets them to smile as she does it.

  But if Danny James was telling the truth, he’d never understand.

  ‘Xan is the person who orchestrated my parents’ downfall,’ Dee finally said, shoving her hands in her pockets. ‘My father wasn’t the one who created that donation program they all skimmed off of. It was Xan. My father wasn’t that clever. Xan made a fortune nobody ever traced and conveniently disappeared about a month before the feds arrived with the warrants.’ Then reappeared just in time to murder her own sister.

  ‘You’re sure?’

  She smiled out into the night. ‘Oh, yes. I’m sure.’

  She heard Danny climb to his feet and approach. She didn’t turn away from the view. The evening star had just winked on and she made her instinctive wish. Let us be safe. Danny came to stand right behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know.’

  Dee found herself fighting tears. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry, too.’

  She’d grown to love this nondescript little valley, this camouflaged altar. She didn’t want to leave. Danny James had left her no choice.

  ‘I’d like to hear your side of the story,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I’ll get your aunt’s.’

  Dee turned to face him and realized he was too close. So she stepped away from his touch, where she could have enough space to better appraise him. He looked so open. So true. Was he that clever, or was he so honorable he hadn’t been able to see what Xan was? Those were the men she specialized in, after all.

  ‘What’s in it for you?’ she asked.

  He watched her for a minute. ‘It’s my job.’

  ‘No it’s not. At least not only that. I can hear it in your voice. Why are you and Mr Delaney making such a bizarre left-handed turn into non-fiction?’

  ‘Because too many people have suffered from a belief in what isn’t true.’

  Dee didn’t bother facing him. ‘Many people say the same about religion.’

  ‘There are truths in religion. Not in this.’

  Dee shook her head. ‘This is personal, isn’t it?’

  He spent a moment looking out over the valley. The wind ruffled his hair, and the tree whispered above them. ‘I’ve seen the damage quacks can do,’ he finally said.

  It was as if a light had flicked off in him. Dee saw the shadows settle and wondered.

  ‘Can you tell me?’

  He looked up, his eyes glowing oddly in the dusk. ‘Oh, I knew someone once. Lost her husband and son in a plane crash.’

  Dee sighed. ‘Fell prey to people telling her they could contact her loved ones?’

  He didn’t even nod. ‘It wasn’t even the money she lost that was the worst. It was the waste of her life.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Dee said. ‘There are con artists out there. No question about it.’

  ‘But were your parents?’

  For a long moment, Dee just looked at him. Weighed the ramifications of her words. Of the book that Mark Delaney was going to do, with or without her help. Did she reinforce Danny James’s prejudice or discount it? It shouldn’t matter. She’d be gone soon.

  ‘Is there really a book?’

  He looked affronted. ‘Of course there’s a book.’ She nodded. ‘They truly believed that they helped people.’

  ‘Did they? Help?’

  ‘A lot of people said so.’ People who sent in money for readings. Money that had gone into houses and cars, and all that gaudy jewelry that had kept the Fortune sisters afloat for these twelve years.

  Until those terrible final days when everything had fallen apart. Dee could still see her parents standing there like stunned cattle waiting for the worst, the television cameras that had loved them for so long turning on them, Xan already safely away. She saw them again on that awful morning when she’d stumbled over them, empty husks sprawled on the floor.

  ‘And you?’ he asked. ‘Did they ever help you?’

  She almost laughed. It was a question no one else had ever thought to ask. ‘You can’t think I’d discuss that with you, knowing you’re going to be talking to my aunt.’

  ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘That was out of line. I’m sorry.’

  She could hear him approaching. She didn’t move. She had a feeling she knew what he intended. Hell, she hoped she knew. Her heart had picked up speed again. She ached, knowing this man was the last person from whom she should seek comfort. Why not? she thought, bracing herself for his first touch. Why not enjoy him, just for this little while? God knew he felt good enough. That curious lightning was sparking between them again, skittering all the way down to Dee’s toes and causing them to curl. There were parts of her body that should have glowed in the dark. Surely she could accept this one gift before leaving?

  Turning her in his arms, he smiled down at her. ‘I’m glad I met you, though.’

  Dee thought his hand might have been shaking a bit as he brushed a loose curl from her forehead. His body radiated warmth, strength. Security. Dee couldn’t think of a thing she craved more.

  She rested her hands on his chest. ‘Me, too.’

  She could do this. She could enjoy this man. She wanted to. She wanted to seduce him. She wanted him to seduce her.

  But always Xan lived in her head. You don’t have the control, Deirdre. You neve
r will. Without me, you’re a failure. Without my guidance, there will be disaster.

  Danny bent his head to her. Dee fought down the in­stinctive panic and lifted her face to meet him. She could control herself. She did it every morning when she shifted for her painting. She kept from doing it at the bank when she became so frustrated she could chew glass. She could do it now.

  He held her face in his calloused hands. Her knees had grown wobbly, until he was all but holding her up, and he hadn’t even kissed her yet.

  He did. Oh, he did. For a blissful eternity, Dee basked in the unfettered delight of it. He nibbled, he courted, he seduced. He unleashed the kind of fire that shattered cells. He urged her mouth open and slipped inside.

  There went her knees again. She was glowing, her breasts pebbled and aching. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted him to lay her down in her stone circle and not let her up until someone else was crowned Oldest Virgin in North America.

  She was doing so well. Open-eyed and participating, pulling his shirt free so she could search out those taut muscles with her fingers. So she could explore the delicious terrain she’d seen from the top of a chifforobe. The feel of him was mesmerizing, the smell of him delectable. She could almost hear the racing thoughts in his head as he fumbled with the buttons Mare had tried to loosen no more than an hour earlier.

  Yes, Dee thought, arching toward him, never breaking the kiss. Please. Just this once.

  Her body felt incandescent. Chills chased down her spine and sapped her strength. Her heart battered at her rib cage, and she was pressing against him as if she could climb inside. She felt explosions of light in her very cells.

  There will be disaster.

  Danny slid his hand inside her blouse and cupped her breast. Dee gasped, lurching against him, struck by a bolt of pure lust from just the brush of his fingers. Dear God, what would happen when the rest of him was involved?

  She might have made it. Might truly have thrown caution to the wind and consecrated her hill with a bout of lovemaking that would have gone down in the annals of lost virginity. But just as Danny bent to lay a kiss on her throat, suddenly in her mind Dee saw the face of a woman. Gray-haired and sad, with Danny James’s eyes.