“Okay…if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow before your flight. Have a good night.”
“Same to you, Macy. Sleep tight.”
“I intend to,” she fibbed again.
She wouldn’t get much sleep. Her troubles would follow her into the night.
* * *
Carter sat across the table from Jocelyn in a cozy corner in the Russian Tea Room, the muscles around his lips pulling tight. He stared at her with unblinking eyes. The setting, the diamond, everything was perfect. Except her answer. “No?”
“That’s right,” she whispered. “No, I won’t marry you.”
With a shake of his head, he leaned back in his seat in disbelief.
Jocelyn flipped her blond hair to one side, a habit he’d noticed her doing when she was annoyed. The long strands fell over the thin strap of her glimmering gold dress. Her full lips, glossed in cherry red, formed a pout. Then she sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world was crushing her shoulders. “I thought you knew this thing between us wasn’t serious.”
He kept his tone level. “How was I to know that?”
“We’ve never spoken of the future,” she said. Her eyes flashed to the opened velvet box he’d laid near the edge of the table. “Not in specific terms.”
Carter’s voice elevated. “You mean, when we were lying in bed at night and you’d say how much you wanted a family one day. Three kids, exactly. And when you said you wanted a second home in the Hamptons, those were just random ramblings?”
He had trouble believing her rejection and searched his memory for clues. How had he missed her signals? He thought they wanted the same things in life.
She ignored the question, speaking in a tight voice, “We haven’t known each other long, Carter.”
“A year isn’t long enough?”
“Not with you living in Wild River and me living in Dallas. We haven’t seen that much of each other.”
Raw, ego-deflating pain gutted his insides. The flat-out rejection worked a number on his pride and made him look at Jocelyn in a new light. One that wasn’t flattering. A steady tick began to eat away at his jaw.
“The ring is a stunner, really.” The diamond that would never see her finger sparkled against incandescent candlelight. “But I can’t accept it.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t love you.”
In one fell swoop, he gripped the plush black ring box and clicked it shut before shoving it into his pocket. He didn’t want to look at the damn thing anymore. “Can’t be clearer than that.”
“Well, I’m…sorry.”
She didn’t sound all that sorry.
“Hell, your apology fixes everything. I suppose you want to be friends now?”
His ego was taking a big hit, but his heart hurt, too. He’d wrapped his future dreams around spending his life with Jocelyn. How had he gone so wrong? He’d known Jocelyn was a high-maintenance woman, but he figured he could make her happy. Now, he felt like a sap.
Her chin angled up, and when she spoke it was as if she were speaking to a dog that should obey. “Don’t be mad, Carter.”
Was she kidding? Anger was only one of the emotions torpedoing his belly. “Don’t tell me how to feel, Jocelyn. Even you’ve got to realize this is a blow to me.”
“You had it wrong. You made a lot of assumptions about our relationship.”
“I made…” Carter kept his anger contained. He spoke quietly, through clenched teeth. “You tempted me into a relationship, in case you’re forgetting. From the first day we met, you were all over me. Remember the Wild River County Fair? You brushed your body up against mine so many times, I needed a dunk in the river to cool myself off. You came after me, as I recall. And we’ve been together ever since. So excuse me if I’m pissed off. Excuse me if I don’t understand.”
And what about all those nights she’d screamed his name and told him he was the best lover she’d ever had? Or the midnight rides they’d take on horseback at the ranch? Or the way she clung to his arm whenever they were out in public, as if he was the most important person in her life? Was it all an act?
“You don’t understand. I wasn’t after you.”
“Like hell you weren’t.”
“You really don’t get it. I thought I was transparent. Clear as glass.” She rose from the table, clutching her small beaded purse. She shot him an unflinching gaze. “I’m in love with Brady. I was trying to make him jealous.” She gestured with a swipe of her hand. “All of this was for Brady’s sake.”
Carter sank back into his seat, his eyebrows denting his forehead. He hadn’t seen this coming. “My cousin?”
Carter had met Jocelyn one day when she was visiting her grandmother, Brady’s neighbor. She’d come by Brady’s place and the three of them, Brady, Carter and Jocelyn, had driven out to the county fair.
He stood abruptly and towered over her, pinning her with a glare. A bitter taste formed in his mouth. “So all this time, you were trying to make Brady jealous? How’s that working out for you?”
She stiffened and her gaze narrowed to two eye-lined slits. “Shut up.”
She made a move to pass by him, to escape his wrath, but he wasn’t through with her yet. He took hold of her arm, garnering her full attention. “You played me for a fool.”
She straightened her stance, holding her head high, like a member of royalty. “You are a fool. You’re a dumb stupid hick who let me string him along.”
His teeth ground together and his words came out low, from deep in his gut. “I’ll make sure to tell Brady you said that. Being as we’re related, that means he’s a dumb stupid hick, too. He was right about you. Yeah, the dumb stupid hick doesn’t think too highly of you. And this time, I’m not disagreeing.”
She flinched. His victory was small consolation, and while he knew better than to speak that way to a woman, he couldn’t stop himself because her indiscretion had been much worse.
He released her at the same moment she yanked her arm free. “Leave.”
She did. She walked away, and Carter didn’t bother to watch her exit. He headed for the bar, unnerved and feeling like hell. He needed to soak his sorrows with a double shot of whiskey. Jocelyn wasn’t the woman he thought she was. She’d been using him all along. Yeah, but he had to admit, she had him good and fooled.
No woman would ever fool him again, and after his liquor arrived, Carter downed the drink in celebration of escaping the hangman’s noose.
Thirty minutes later and fortified with the best whiskey money could buy, Carter stepped out of the restaurant and was hit with a blast of humid August night air. It was the only thing about New York that reminded him of Texas—cloistering humidity. The heat crept up his collar and made him sweat.
All of a sudden a crowd emerged, swarming a woman who was trying to enter the restaurant. Bulbs flashed, the rush of footsteps sounded on pavement, shouted questions flew through the air. More than a dozen paparazzi crammed her as she made a feeble attempt to push her way out. Her shoulder was bumped once, twice. She swiveled right, then left, trying to break away. Questions were leveled at her like grenades. When her eyes met his, in that brief moment, Carter saw a caged animal struggling to get free. She was trapped.
Recognition struck him smack between the eyes. She was the woman he’d glimpsed at the auction yesterday.
Someone yanked at the scarf hiding her jet-black hair. Long, luxurious curls spilled down her shoulder, and she reached behind her head to put the scarf back in place. Carter had seen enough. He muscled his way through the crowd, giving a few well-placed shoves himself to get to her. When he finally faced her, he gripped both her hands in his, firm but gentle. She gazed at him with desperate, deep lavender-blue eyes. Carter had no time to dwell on her beautiful face. He blocked a cameraman’s shot with his body, and the Stetson riding low on his forehead lent another measure of concealment. Use everything in your arsenal, he’d learned in the marines.
He leane
d in real close. “I can get you out of here. But you have to trust me.”
Two
Fraught with panic, Macy faced the man from the auction, certain she was hallucinating. It couldn’t be him. She’d dreamed about him last night, and this morning, when she should have forgotten all about him, he’d still marched into her thoughts during quiet moments.
Shouted barbs, flashbulbs snapping and body heat from tabloid junkies brought her back to the here and now.
“Got yourself a cowboy,” shouted a photographer from the back of the pack.
“Are you doing nude scenes with him, Macy?” another asked.
The vultures chuckled.
It angered her that they called her by her first name, as if they were her friends, when the question itself was rude enough to warrant enemy status. Tina knew how to handle the paparazzi. Macy did not. And she paid the price for not being as charming as her famous mother had been.
Her heart pounding, her body abused and her head clouded with uncertainty, Macy glanced down to find her tightly wound fists encased in strong, protective hands. When she gazed up into the cowboy’s eyes, he reassured her with a nod. His words had been like velvet to her ears.
Trust me.
She did.
Someone bumped her from behind, and the cowboy’s gaze grew fierce, giving the photographer ample warning. “Back off.”
Then he met her stare again. “You coming?” His voice was a little more insistent this time.
Macy didn’t have to think twice. She was out of options. The crowd herding her had become more curious now that the cowboy had intervened on her behalf, peppering her with questions as to who he was.
She honestly didn’t know.
But she was about to find out.
She nodded, and he gave her a fast smile. “Let’s go.”
The cowboy’s grip was steady on her hand as they took off at a run. Mentally she cursed the Paciotti pumps slowing her down. She struggled to keep pace with his strides.
“Don’t look back,” he ordered. He guided her down an alleyway, dodging garbage cans. She ran on the pads of her feet to keep from stumbling on three-inch heels. Her scarf flew off her head, clinging on by the knot at her throat. The material whipped at her shoulders. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her nerves rattled as the cowboy led her away from the tabloid hounds dogging her.
The sound of labored breaths and footsteps shuffling from behind dropped off a little at a time as they hurried along the narrow alley. It wasn’t a herd following them anymore, just several hangers-on. Those few were persistent, and the cowboy tightened his hold on her hand when they reached the end of the alley. He took half a second to glance both ways on the side street before gesturing to the right. “There.”
She followed him, running quickly to a shiny black Lincoln Town Car. “Get in and we’ll be off.” She glanced behind her to see four photographers snapping pictures at the base of the alleyway.
Her savior opened the back door for her, surprising the chauffeur, who was eating a burrito in the front seat. She climbed inside and slid over. He joined her a second later. “Give it some gas, Larry. And be quick.”
“Yes, sir.” The chauffeur tossed his food down and fumbled for a second, obviously caught off guard. Then the engine revved to life. Before the paparazzi got within twenty feet, they had pulled out, Larry driving as fast as traffic allowed.
* * *
“Wow.” Macy leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. The past twenty minutes were a blur. One second she was on her way to meet Avery for dinner, and the next she was being pursued by overly zealous tabloid maniacs.
She tried to slow her breathing, but then there was the Stetson-wearing cowboy to think about. From the moment she’d laid eyes on him, he’d thrown her off balance.
She turned to face him and caught a whiff of his musky cologne. The scent was a turn-on in its own right, but on him, now that was really something. She’d already put him in white knight status; he didn’t need any more help. “I don’t usually accept rides from strangers,” she offered, clearing the air.
He chuckled and deep twin dimples appeared, softening the sharp planes of his face. Okay, this was just not funny anymore.
“But you made an exception for me?”
“I knew I could trust you. I saw you yesterday at the, uh, the auction. I was there, too.”
He gave her an appraising stare. “I know.”
“You know me?”
“No, can’t say that I do. But I noticed you. You were trying your best not to look conspicuous. Guess the designer sunglasses and scarf gave you away. It’s kind of hard not to notice a beautiful woman covering herself all up. Not that I blame you for trying to disguise yourself.” He gestured with a tilt of his head to the direction they’d just come from. “Does that happen to you often?”
He thought she was beautiful, even under the disguise. “Lately, yes…unfortunately.”
They were traveling down the street, and Macy had no idea where they were headed. All she saw behind him through the window was a flash of streetlights and neon signs.
He took care with removing his hat and laid it between them. He continued to watch her. Normally she’d squirm under the heat of a stranger’s stare, but oddly all she felt was excitement, as if she was living out her fantasy. She still couldn’t believe she was in his car, driving toward who knows what.
Then she reined in those thoughts. He was engaged. Or going to be soon. Her fantasy was over. “I’m Macy Tarlington.”
His eyes flickered with recognition. “Tarlington?”
His recognition wasn’t aimed at her. He didn’t know who she was. It was the Tarlington name that turned heads in every civilized country around the world. Apparently, the cowboy had never seen any of the work Macy had done on film. She wasn’t a star by any rights, but most people in the know would recognize her on the street. “My mother was Tina Tarlington.”
“I’ll be damned.” He shot her a charming smile then put out his hand. The large capable hand she’d already held. “Carter McCay. I’m from Wild River, Texas.”
Of course, he was a Texan. With that charming accent, where else could he be from? “Hollyweird, California.”
His lips quirked up and they sat staring at each other, their hands entwined in a slow shake.
Macy would’ve lost her footing if she’d been standing from the way he watched her. “I want to thank you. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten away from them if you weren’t there.”
He finally released her hand, and she was momentarily at a loss. “Appeared that way to me, too.”
“You saved me,” she said, still awestruck.
“You needed saving.”
Macy held in a sigh. His fiancée was a lucky woman. “Are you in the habit of saving women, or am I the only one?”
“I’m not in the business of saving anyone anymore.”
“Meaning you once were?”
“Once, a long time ago.” The city lights reflected in his eyes as his gaze shifted out the window. “I was a marine.”
“Ah, that explains your call to duty.”
His gaze snapped back to hers.
“I mean, isn’t that wh-what you do?” Oh boy, she didn’t want to insult the man who’d saved her. She found herself fumbling with an explanation. “The first to go in when there’s a crisis.”
His lips twitched as if he found her amusing. “I’m a Texan. We don’t like seeing women being manhandled. Marine or not, any man worth his salt would have done the same. “
Macy decided she liked a man who used the phrase worth his salt. “No matter the reason, I’m appreciative.”
“Why were those bozos so dang persistent anyway?”
The dreaded question.
Macy darted a glance out the window. “I suppose they think they’re justified.”
His lips tightened. “Nothing justifies shoving a defenseless woman and sticking cameras in her face.”
“If you knew me
better, you’d know I’m not exactly defenseless,” Macy quipped. “I was caught off guard. Usually I’m more prepared.”
“Can’t imagine living like that.”
“It’s worse now. My mother’s death put the spotlight on me.” She tried to pass off her troubles with a shrug. “I’m the center of some controversy.”
His gaze remained on her, searching, waiting. But Macy held back. Though her recent episodes had been all over entertainment news when she’d walked out on two separate productions, trying to explain them to a stranger would be awkward. Thankfully, her lawsuits related to those incidents, weren’t public knowledge yet.
She didn’t answer the question in Carter’s eyes.
“So, why the auction?” he asked. “Your mother was…”
“Broke. She wasn’t good with money and she loved beautiful things.”
His eyes widened, as if she’d told a telling tale. “You want a drink? All I have is champagne.”
The bottle of Dom was sitting in a sterling-silver bucket in the center back of the town car. He picked it up along with two crystal flutes and poured them each a glass. She accepted one and glanced out the window again, noting the city lights fading, fast becoming a distant memory.
“By the way,” she whispered, taking a sip of the bubbly. “Where are you taking me?”
* * *
Wind blew her hair off her shoulders. The cool breeze refreshed her mind and rejuvenated her body. She stood on the deck of a private yacht watching the glorious Manhattan skyline. To think, if Avery hadn’t canceled their dinner date right before she’d arrived at the restaurant, and if Macy hadn’t gotten out of her cab to walk the two blocks to her favorite sushi place, her evening would have been a lonely night of salmon sashimi and wasabi.
The term too good to be true was overrated, except when it came to Carter McCay. He’d been a perfect gentleman, offering to take her back to her hotel.
Exquisite Acquisitions Page 3
