“I paid a visit to my dad the other day. We…talked for a while.”
Macy swallowed past a big old lump in her throat. “That’s good.”
“Rocky came along.”
She bit her lip, holding back her satisfaction. “I bet Riley was glad to see both of you.”
Carter shrugged. “I think so.”
It was a start, Macy thought, and she wondered if the two of them had actually gotten along during the visit. Still, she was glad Carter had made the effort with his father. But she wondered if that was the reason he was here—to tell her about his progress with his father? She waited for him to say more about it, but his expression changed and she knew that conversation was over.
“I, uh,” he began, then stopped to brush invisible dust from the brim of his hat. Macy had never seen Carter looking so nervous. “I never thought I could do this again.”
Macy’s throat constricted and her voice came out small and fragile. “Do what again?”
His gaze fastened over her right shoulder, as if he was searching for the right words. He seemed determined to get something off his chest. “You know that Jocelyn made a fool out of me and it hurt my pride and my ego. She’d been trying to make Brady jealous the entire time we were together. I didn’t see it. That kind of manipulation works on a man’s trust.”
Macy nodded.
“I guess I really didn’t know her, and I certainly didn’t love her,” he said. “I know that now.”
“You do?”
Carter’s gaze shifted back to her. He pierced her with an intense look. “Yeah, I know it for fact. Because I’m crazy in love right now. With you, Macy.”
Macy slumped back against the refrigerator door, floored by his admission. Joy instantly leaped into her heart. “You are?”
“That’s right. I am. I love you. I never thought I’d let myself feel this way. I never thought I could trust anyone with my heart again. I wanted no part of marriage or long-term relationships. I was done. And then I saw you on that New York street—”
“And you rescued me.”
“It was fate, Macy. I might never have met you otherwise.”
Macy looked him straight in the eyes. She knew how hard this was for him. He was taking a giant leap of faith in revealing his feelings. And she should make him sweat it out longer after what he’d put her through. But she didn’t want to tempt fate. And she’d been waiting her entire lifetime to say these words. “I’m pretty crazy in love with you, too,” she said. “For the record.”
Carter closed his eyes to her declaration, as if he was absorbing her words. As if he was reaffirming them in his mind. When he opened his eyes again, she was standing toe-to-toe with him. She looked into his beautiful hazel eyes. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
Carter took her into his arms and Macy melted in his embrace. “Not yet, sweet darlin’. There’s more.”
“I’m listening.” Macy circled her arms around his neck and watched his mouth move, watched his strong stubborn jaw relax and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down. Every motion, every nuance that was Carter brought her happiness.
“I’m having the gazebo rebuilt. It’s going to be magnificent. And I want the Wild River Inn to house your drama students. They can come for summer sessions and weekends during the school year. I want you to teach, Macy. I want you to be my wife and live with me at Wild River Ranch until the sun sets for the last time on both of us.”
“Oh, Carter.” It was more than Macy had ever dared to hope, yet it was what she’d been secretly wishing.
“There’s more,” he said, “and believe me, if I thought I could wait another few hours, I’d do this much better. But I can’t. I’ve wasted enough time.”
Carter bent down on one knee and took a red paisley neckerchief out of his pocket. He unfolded it carefully and presented her with a diamond ring. “There’s only one place this ring belongs,” he said reverently. “And that’s on your finger.”
Stunned, Macy’s hand came to her mouth. She stared at the sparkling diamond, eyeing the ring that had bound her parents’ love. Then finally, she managed to whisper through thick emotion, “The Tarlington diamond? I never thought I’d see it again. How did you…?”
“It just came into my possession, sweetheart. I’ll explain later,” he said tenderly. Then he took her hand in his, holding it steady, while the rest of her body trembled in anticipation. “Macy Tarlington,” he began, “I’m promising to love you and keep you safe and happy for the rest of our lives. I’m promising you this from the bottom of my heart. And I’m asking you to become my wife and have my children. Come live with me at Wild River. Come home.”
Macy didn’t hesitate. Wild River was her home. She loved Carter with everything she had inside and she belonged by his side. “Yes, Carter, I’ll be your wife.” She didn’t know how he’d done it, but the proposal and the ring together went beyond her most cherished dreams. Her voice softened to a hush. “I love you so much, Carter McCay.”
He slid the ring on her finger and happy tears spilled down her cheeks. “It fits.”
Carter laughed along with her and then finally brought his mouth down to claim her in a bone-melting kiss that knocked her knees out from under her. Carter was there instantly, protecting her from the fall. He lifted her and carried her out of the kitchen. “Show me your bedroom, darlin’. I’ve missed you something fierce.”
Macy grinned, touched a loving hand to her cowboy’s cheek and pointed the way.
Afterward, once the sun had set and they lay facing each other, sated and cocooned in the cozy embrace of their love, Carter told her about their mysterious benefactor, Bill Fargo. His explanation left more questions than answers, but Carter said he was grateful to Fargo, or whatever his name was, because the old guy managed to break through his stubborn pride and make him see the love he had for Macy.
“Thanks to Bill,” Macy said softly, “I’m getting a wonderful husband.”
Carter kissed her cheek. “And I’m getting a multitalented, beautiful Hollywood starlet, uh, serious actress for a wife.” He winked. “There aren’t too many Texans who could make that claim.”
Macy thought she was definitely getting the better end of the deal, but she’d never admit that to her Stetson-wearing gorgeous hunk of a cowboy.
She wasn’t that stupid.
Just incredibly lucky.
* * * * *
Keep reading for another exclusive story revealing the history of The Golden Heart Statue by USA TODAY bestselling author Barbara Dunlop. Then look for the next installment of THE HIGHEST BIDDER, A SILKEN SEDUCTION, by Yvonne Lindsay, wherever Harlequin books are sold.
Rayas, 1912
The sharp clatter of the prison door closing reverberated through Princess Salima Adan Bajal’s very bones. The uneven stones were icy cold through her soft shoes, and the dampness of the gray walls seemed to penetrate her silk robes.
“How much farther?” she whispered to the hulking, turbaned guard walking beside her. Her throat had gone dry. Her heart was pounding. And her muscles ached with taut-stretched nerves.
The guard, Zaruri, had taken possession of his bribe, her priceless Gold Heart statue, before letting her into the prison. It occurred to her now that giving up her only leverage might have been a mistake. He could just as easily kill her here as keep his end of the bargain.
“Downstairs,” he announced in the guttural tone of the Rayasian language, dragging open an aged, wood plank door.
“How do we get out again?” she couldn’t help asking. She dreaded the thought of going yet another floor downward into this dank dungeon. It had been built over a hundred years ago, during the Barbary Coast War. Only the thought of her beloved Cosmo Salvatore, chained to a wall, condemned to death, propelled her forward.
She’d met Cosmo in Istanbul while she was visiting cousins and he was on leave from the Italian army in which he served as a captain. She’d kept her identity a secret, and they’d fallen in love like two ordinary p
eople. If only he’d let her go. But he tracked her down to Rayas and kissed her exuberantly in public.
The palace guards had immediately arrested him. She’d begged her father, King Habib, to free him. But her pleas had made her father only angrier. He’d offered no leniency and instructed the judge to impose the maximum penalty.
Someone cried out from the depths of the prison. A guard shouted, and another door clanged shut. It had been long minutes since she’d had a glimpse of daylight. But if she was going to die here, at least her fate was linked to Cosmo’s. She’d die knowing she’d done everything in her power to save him. That was something.
She raised her head and squared her shoulders, ready to face whatever was to come.
But suddenly, Cosmo was in front of her, held firmly by another guard as he blinked in astonishment.
“Salima,” he rasped. “What are you doing?”
“I’ve come to rescue you.” She reached for him, but he jerked away.
“Leave,” he commanded in a harsh tone. Then he looked to Zaruri. “Take her away.”
She grasped Cosmo’s tattered sleeve. “It’s all right.”
“It’s not all right. It’s not safe for you here.”
Zaruri grunted and started forward, propelling Salima with him. “There’s no time for this.”
Cosmo’s guard turned him along the narrow passageway.
“We’re getting out of here,” she whispered to Cosmo.
“They’re going to kill you,” he whispered back.
She shook her head. Despite her earlier fears, she refused to believe that. If they were going to kill her, they’d have done it already.
“I love you,” she told him.
“Salima,” he ground out.
“It’s my fault you’re here.”
“It’s my fault I’m here.”
“If I’d told you I was a princess.”
“If I’d listened when you asked me to stay away.”
Zaruri growled as he jerked her to a halt. Using an iron key, he unlocked a door, yawning it open, shoving her outside.
She chafed at being handled so roughly. As a member of the Rayas royal family, Salima was never touched by commoners. But seconds later, Cosmo was beside her, and they were breathing the clean night air and nothing else mattered.
“The horses are at the river,” Zaruri informed them.
Salima drew herself up, forcing herself to hide her relief. She was a princess. “You are sworn to secrecy,” she reminded the men.
“You are a fugitive,” Zaruri returned, his yellowed teeth showing in the moonlight. He hoisted the statue that was tucked under one arm, wrapped in gray cloth. “And I am a king.”
Salima bit back a retort. The Gold Heart statue might be one of the most prized possessions of the royal family, but Zaruri would never be anything but a commoner. Then again, from here on in, neither would she.
Cosmo’s strong arm snaked around her shoulder. He took a step backward, then another, drawing her with him, eyes warily watching the guards. Then she and Cosmo were walking away, then running along the path that led to the river.
They found horses tied there. But, as Salima would have mounted, Cosmo pulled her against him, stepping back into the shelter of the trees, where his arms wrapped tightly around her.
“I stink,” he groaned in apology.
“I don’t care.” She hugged him back, pressing her body full length against his. It was something she’d never dared do in Istanbul.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“I couldn’t let them kill you.”
Cosmo drew back in obvious confusion. “Kill me?”
“You were sentenced to death.”
“I was sentenced to two years, Salima.” His hands engulfed hers. “I’d have made it two years.”
Salima digested the information. Had the court lied to Cosmo? Or had her father lied to her?
“I was told they were going to behead you.”
“For kissing you?”
“I’m a member of the royal family.”
Cosmo’s hands moved up to cradle her face, their warm calluses cupping her cheeks. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t have been worth it.”
“How can you joke?” she whispered, her knees still shaking.
He bent toward her, his hot, tender lips taking possession of hers. Desire flowed through her veins. Her arms wound around his waist, and she came up on her toes, wanting desperately to get closer. The silk scarf slipped off her head, her black hair lifting in the breeze.
After long minutes, Cosmo drew back. “I love you, Salima. I was going to wait it out, then come for you. One day I’ll be a general. I can protect you.”
The precariousness of their situation rushed back. “We have to get away, very far away.”
“Will they come after you? Try to take you back?”
A complicated question. “Only until you defile me.” She was useless to her father after that.
Cosmo’s eyes darkened, and he kissed her again, harder this time, deeper and longer, his body straining against hers.
“And then what?” he rasped, as hidden desires boiled up inside her.
“They’ll either disown me or kill me,” she answered.
“Do we get to pick which?”
She couldn’t believe he was joking again. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“How does it work?”
“We disappear forever.”
“I can live with that.”
* * *
Salima’s head was bare, her dark hair upswept and interwoven with tiny white flowers. Her arms were barely covered in wispy sleeves of white lace and satin. The dress itself was a sheath that nipped in at her waist, dipped down to her cleavage and brushed the toes of her heeled shoes. She felt very Western, nothing of a Rayas wedding in evidence.
It had taken weeks to cross the Mediterranean, and then to Europe and England, where they’d boarded and ocean liner. They’d barely made international waters, on route from Southampton to New York, when Cosmo had her in front of the ship’s captain saying their vows. The ceremony was swift, witnessed by the first mate. They’d kissed and signed the register, then dashed down the passage to their compact stateroom. Cosmo pushed open the door and scooped her into his arms.
As he carried her across the threshold, she battled the vestiges of fear that had constantly cramped her stomach while they traversed the Mediterranean and Europe.
“We used our real names,” she couldn’t help pointing out. Misdirection and subterfuge had become second nature to her over the past three weeks.
He kissed the tip of her nose, kicking the door shut behind them. “That’s so we’d really be married.”
“What if they check the ship’s manifest?”
Her father and her three brothers would have agents fanning out across the Middle East. They’d certainly be in Italy. Eventually, they’d move farther north in Europe.
Cosmo set her on her feet, gazing softly into her eyes. “I’m going to defile you now.”
She drew back. “In the daytime?”
He traced the soft skin of her neckline. “Absolutely.”
“But…” She wanted Cosmo, wanted him in every way a wife wants her husband. But there were passengers in the hallways, the ship’s crew wandering around the decks.
Cosmo obviously guessed her thoughts. He reached behind him to flip the lock on their stateroom door. “No one will bother us, sweetheart.”
He moved closer, imposing, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’ve waited weeks, Salima. Months if you count Istanbul.”
“I know.”
He tugged her more tightly against him, and she could feel his arousal. His dark gaze bore intensely into hers. His voice was harsh, guttural. “I need you to be my wife.”
She understood. She wanted that, too.
They’d known each other only a few months, but she couldn’t imagine her life without him—married off to a sheik or a prince from a neighborin
g kingdom, used as a bargaining chip to further her father’s influence in the region. If she’d followed Rayasian tradition, she would have never laughed, never shouted, never run barefoot on a beach, never felt the wind rustling her hair. She’d have borne a stranger’s children, walked two paces behind him, sat silently through state dinners and withered away behind the palace walls.
Instead, her new husband kissed her, passionately and thoroughly, starting a throbbing pulse that fanned out from her belly, tingling when it reached her skin.
There was a sudden, sharp rap at the door.
Somebody shouted in Salima’s native language, followed by a protest in English.
Cosmo turned, placing himself between her and the door as it crashed open, banging back on its hinges.
A tall, swarthy man barged into the small room. He held a seaman in front of him, a knife to the man’s throat.
“You are a disgrace to the House of Bajal,” he shouted at Salima. “You have blackened your mother’s memory and cut out the heart of your father.”
Salima felt herself shrivel. Shame washed over her at the truth of his words. The queen had been dead for more than ten years, but Salima had adored her.
Cosmo circled sideways, drawing the Rayasian man’s attention. “Don’t you dare speak to my wife.”
“You have married this dog?” the man spat.
The seaman’s eyes were wide, his gaze darting from Salima to Cosmo to the open door. But the hallway was silent and empty.
The Rayasian man kicked the door shut. He threw a rope to Salima. It bounced off her wedding dress and dropped to the floor.
“Tie him up,” he demanded, jerking his head toward Cosmo.
“Don’t listen to him,” Cosmo ordered.
The man clamped the knife tighter against the seaman’s throat, and a small trickle of blood leaked out.
The seaman gasped, and Salima clamped a hand over her mouth, afraid she might throw up.
“Tie him up.”
“Sweetheart,” Cosmo whispered, his feet inching farther away from her. “You have to trust me on this.”
Salima whimpered. She knew that if she helped the Rayasian man, he would surely kill Cosmo. Then he’d haul her back to Rayas to face her furious father. But she couldn’t let him kill the innocent seaman.
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