Knowing the Score

by Marie Donovan

  Ashley shattered right there on her couch, sobbing out all her grief and rage. Rage at her father for never bothering to know her. Rage at her mother for knowing her and leaving her anyway. Grief at her lost childhood. Grief for her shop burning up. And most of all, sorrow for falling in love with Beck during that golden time of happy bliss in his arms.

  Why couldn’t she have admired him from afar on the polo field, as if he were a beautiful statue in the garden? Instead, she’d seen inside his heart, seen his love for his riding students, his affection for Mimi, Bootsie and his mother, his tenderness for Ashley, a woman whom he’d just met, who had used him to further her career.

  She cried harder onto Tisha’s shoulder, conscious that she was probably leaving a giant splotch of tears. She tried to sit up but Tisha pulled her back. “It’s okay, querida. You haven’t seen boogers until you have two little boys with head colds.”

  Ashley managed a snuffly laugh, which was Tisha’s intent. Tisha stroked her hair as if she were one of her boys. “Ashley, did you ever cry after your mother left?”

  She thought for a second. “Once, maybe—when I found her goodbye note on the kitchen table. After that, no—I didn’t want to hurt your mother’s feelings by making her think I was unhappy or ungrateful that you had taken me in.”

  “All those years. Oh, Ash.” Her grip tightened. “We assumed you cried in private. It never occurred to Mama that you didn’t cry at all.”

  “Don’t tell her.” Ashley sat up in alarm.

  “No! No more secrets! Enough is enough—with my mother, and with Beck.” Tisha made a chopping motion with her hands. “You have always put all your love and passion into your work. Well, gold and silver cannot love you back. Maybe your Beck can.”

  “You said he was rotten.” Ashley was getting confused.

  “I don’t care if he’s so rotten I need to put a clothespin on my nose when you bring him to dinner. If you tell him you love him and he loves you, that is good enough for me.”

  “I do love him.” Ashley looked at her friend in wonder. The shattered pieces were starting to reassemble into someone new and even stronger. The only pieces that refused to come together were the ones where her heart should be. Maybe Beck would help her heart become whole again—maybe he wouldn’t. “How is it possible to love someone so quickly?”

  “Hey, don’t look at me.” Tisha shrugged. “I fell in love with Paolo’s ass. Lucky for me, his heart and soul were just as fine.”

  BECK SAT NEXT to his pool wearing only his swim trunks and a grim expression. He stared at the championship cup on his poolside table and sipped a tumbler of whiskey—a double, straight—not on the rocks. The rest of his life was already on the rocks as it was.

  The sterling-silver cup shone in the bright sun—like Ashley’s dress had shone in the moonlight. He ran a hand over his hair and drained the glass.

  How had things gone wrong so quickly? And why did he care? He’d only known Ashley for a grand total of two weeks—not nearly enough time to turn his life upside down.

  He’d known plenty of beautiful blondes before, after all. Blondes who hadn’t snuggled up to Beck just to make a business deal. Those women hadn’t needed to run a business—he doubted if they even could. Not to mention Ashley’s amazing talent in taking cold metal and hard stones and turning them into jeweled bits of nature.

  But she hadn’t needed her own jewelry to shine. She hadn’t even worn her favorite poppy bracelet to the dance. Maybe she’d already sold it to that Bruguera. He reached for his laptop, cursing himself for being seven kinds of idiot. But that still didn’t stop him from typing Ashley’s name into a search engine. She had a well-designed Web site with an announcement of her new affiliation with Bruguera Boutiques. He clicked on her photo and sat there mooning over the tilt of her head, her bright blue eyes and lovely smile.

  He forced himself to click away from her Web site and saw a couple of hits on an online auction.

  Beck winced, wondering if she had been so desperate as to list some jewelry for sale that way. Her statement that he never had to worry about a cash crunch was right on the money, so to speak.

  Was he spoiled? He stared blankly at the computer screen. He thought of his mother, still working her ass off as CEO of his family business with little help from him. He thought of Diego, who despite his freewheeling image, spent more money on his horses’ care than he did his own.

  And of course, Ashley, who lavished all her love on Teddy, the first and only rodent to inspire jealousy in him. Jealous because she loved the hamster and not him.

  He gulped and quickly clicked on the auction link. Holy crap. It was her poppy bracelet. He rapidly scrolled through the listing and found the seller’s ID—a clothing store in Palm Beach, not Ashley.

  He dialed the store’s number and talked to the owner long enough to get directions and a promise not to sell the bracelet before he arrived. But first, he needed to make another phone call.

  “Hello, Mother? Yes, I’m fine. I want to talk to you about the company.”

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” The resale shop owner handed Beck Ashley’s white-gold poppy bracelet.

  Beck couldn’t speak for a second so he nodded. He knew it was hers because it was missing the little jewelers mark near the clasp. That was her secret code, she had explained. Items she sold always had her jeweler’s mark, a tiny A and C intertwined. This bracelet didn’t have it, so it had to be her own bracelet that she never took off. Not until now. Why the hell would she sell it? He asked a bit more politely.

  The shop owner gave him a bland smile. “Maybe she didn’t care for it anymore. Styles change, things come in and out of fashion.”

  Beck looked around the shop. It carried mostly upscale casual wear but he noticed some designer dresses on a tall chrome rack. “Tell me, do you ever get really beautiful ball gowns in light-blue silk with lots of silver embroidery?”

  The light bulb went on over her head. “Ah, yes. We did have one, but it sold the very same day. I imagine a dress like that would look lovely on a tall blond woman.”

  “Yes, it did.” Ashley had sold her bracelet to buy a ball gown. He’d noticed her brief hesitation before accepting his invitation, but had attributed it to nerves at such a grand party. “I’ll buy it.” He couldn’t fix everything but at least he would return her bracelet.

  “Don’t you want to know how much it is?”

  “No, not really.” He reached into his wallet for his credit card.

  The shop owner shook her head and laughed. “Good thing for you I’m an honest businesswoman because I know a desperate man when I see one.” She quoted him a fair price, which he gladly paid. She wrapped the bracelet. “How did she look in the blue ball gown?”

  “Amazing.” Beck’s heart thumped at the memory. “And then I wrecked everything.”

  She handed him the white jewelry box topped with a light-blue bow. “I think this will go a long way toward fixing things.”

  “Do you really think so?” he asked eagerly.

  “But you need to talk to her.” The woman folded her arms over her chest. “For heaven’s sake, don’t shove the box at her and say ‘Here you go.’ If you’re going to do that, you may as well save your money and leave the bracelet with me.”

  He covered the box. “No. She has to have this bracelet, whether or not she forgives me.”

  “Good. Tell her that.” She finally smiled a genuine smile at him, not just a polite saleswoman-to-customer smile. “My goodness, you make a handsome couple.”

  He impulsively leaned over the counter and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before hurrying to the door. “I only hope she agrees.”

  16

  ASHLEY SLUMPED on her couch, feeding sunflower seeds to Teddy. He was the only male she wanted to see in the foreseeable future.

  A knock sounded at the door. She looked up in surprise. Maybe it was her neighbor, Mrs. Weinstein. She had offered to drop by with some tomatoes.

  She checked the peeph
ole from habit and recoiled in shock. What was Beck doing here? Teddy squealed in protest and she carefully loosened her grip on him and put him in his cage.

  “Ashley?” he called. “I know you probably don’t want to see me, but I found something that belongs to you.”

  She made a face. She’d probably left something at his house, but she wished he’d throw it in the mail. “All right.” She opened the door.

  “May I come in, Ashley?” he asked. She looked for a box of her things, although she couldn’t imagine what she’d even left there after only two weeks with Beck. Two weeks that had meant more to her than anything she had ever experienced with another man.

  Fighting the lump in her throat, she gestured wordlessly to the couch. He waited for her to sit and join him. She knotted her hands together, torn between wanting to throw herself on him and wanting to throw him out.

  To distract herself, she stared at him. He sure did not look his usual immaculate self. He wore a sun-faded blue T-shirt and swim trunks that had once been red but were now more of a pale brick color. His hair was mussed, sticking up in back, and he sported the rattiest black cloth flip-flops she’d seen since her teenage beach-bum years. “What did you bring for me?”

  He looked away, as if gathering his thoughts before speaking. When he did, it wasn’t at all what she expected. “I have a story to tell you. Once upon a time, there was a handsome, spoiled prince who had everything—friends, fun, ponies and the money to make his life go smoothly. He was riding along without a care in the world when he met a beautiful golden-haired-princess who was much more than the other princesses he had known. She was smart and funny and talented, and she had turned herself into a princess with absolutely no help from anyone else—a self-made princess.”

  She drew in a quick breath but he continued, “And this princess was hard-working but needed to meet her fairy godfather to make her jewelry dreams come true.”

  She giggled to hear Enric so described, absolutely sure the Barcelonan would not appreciate it.

  “And she did meet the fairy godfather, but the prince got on his high horse because he had not been the one to make all of her dreams come true.”

  “Oh, Beck.” She tried to caress his cheek, but he caught her hand and kissed her palm. He had made different dreams come true for her.

  “The prince took a good, hard look at himself and didn’t like what he saw. He realized his mother, the queen, had burdened herself with running the kingdom, so he called her to tell her he would step into the royal executive vice presidency. And he told his royal aunt to plan an expansion for the stable because the queen, overjoyed that the useless prince had actually made an effort to do something worthwhile, made a huge donation and was stiff-arming all her friends to do the same.”

  Ashley laughed. “Wonderful! I know you love that stable better than anything.”

  “Better than anything, but not better than you.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing above his frayed collar.

  Had he said he loved her? “What?”

  He winced. “I’m screwing this up—the saleslady warned me not to.”

  “You talked to a saleslady about this?” She gave him a puzzled frown. For a man who was usually so charming and polished, he wasn’t making any sense.

  He pulled a long white jewelry box out of his shorts pocket, its blue ribbon slightly crushed. “This is for you.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She was thinking that a gift of jewelry for her was like giving roses to a florist—until she opened the box. “Oh, my gosh. My bracelet.” She pulled it out of the box and he helped her fasten it around her wrist. She wiggled her arm a few times, glad of the bracelet’s reassuring weight. “How did you find it?”

  He sighed. “I have to admit, although it’s going to make me look fairly pathetic, I was drinking whiskey by my pool this morning and missing you terribly. I did an Internet search on you and found the bracelet listed for auction by the lady at the resale shop.”

  “Oh.” Her face burned. Princesses did not shop at secondhand clothing stores.

  He pulled her into his arms. “If I’d been thinking, I would have bought a dress for you. But I am so honored that you would sell the bracelet you loved the most to go to the ball with me.”

  “I do love the bracelet, but not as much as I love you.” There. She’d said it, and now all she could do was wait.

  “Oh, thank God.” He kissed her hard, his lips and tongue moving across hers until she thought she’d faint from pleasure. She finally came up for air and thunked his chest until he let her go.

  “What?” His worried expression made her heart do flips.

  “Let’s try again. I tell you I love you and you say…”

  “Oh, Ashley, sweetheart, I love you, too.” He tried to kiss her again, but she was laughing too joyfully to even pucker. He surrendered to laughter as well, swinging her up and around until her living room spun into a dizzying blur like Teddy in his hamster ball. Despite all the whirling, the shattered pieces that had been her heart clicked into place, tightly soldered together by their love.

  Epilogue

  “DID YOU have a good birthday, Ashley?” Beck murmured as he nuzzled her neck. His four-hundred-count sheets were a rumpled mess underneath them.

  “The best ever.” He had taken her to Jardin des Fleurs and had hand-fed her the best French food she’d ever tasted. His constant caresses under the table and his stolen kisses had inflamed them so much that they hadn’t made it to dessert. Her flourless chocolate gâteau was sitting on the granite countertop waiting for them to come up for air.

  She yawned and stretched, noting how Beck’s gaze followed the rise of her naked breasts. She and Beck had been inseparable for over eight months, and their lovemaking got better and more fulfilling each time.

  “Good.” He cupped a breast in his hand and kissed the tip. She rolled toward him and slid her thigh between his. His cock was hard and eager for her. He caressed her bottom but stopped. “Wait, you’re distracting me, just like you distracted me in the restaurant.”

  She laughed and pushed her hair from her forehead. “Distracted you from what?”

  But he was already out of bed and reaching for his pants. Rummaging through a pocket, he pulled out a pale-gray velvet Bruguera Boutique jewelry box. Not a long necklace box, but a small, square box like those they used for rings. He dropped to one knee.

  “Oh, my gosh.” She bolted upright in bed.

  He took her hand in his. “Marry me, Ash. The months since we’ve met have been the best of my life. I want to live the rest of my years with you—as your husband.”

  “Yes, of course.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his sweet mouth. He kissed her back, but then lifted his head.

  “Don’t you want to see the ring first?” He was only half-teasing. “I know you’re particular about your jewelry.”

  “I would wear the ring from a pop can and be proud to be your wife.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

  Beck’s face softened. “You won’t have to.” He flipped open the box.

  “Oh, Beck, it’s gorgeous.” She looked at her hand with wonder as he slid the ring on her fourth finger. The ring was the eighteen-carat rose gold she loved, formed into a swirling wave to support a brilliant white diamond at least three carats in size.

  “Enric designed it, and Raoul had their very best goldsmith create it. I didn’t think a bride should have to design her own ring.” He kissed her palm. “It was my grandmother’s diamond. My mother has been keeping it safe for me all this time.”

  “I’m touched she thinks highly enough to trust me with it.” She turned her hand back and forth the way the brides she’d worked with for years always did—and now it was her turn. “The diamond is lovely, so bright and beautiful.”

  “Not as bright and beautiful as you.” He tossed away the empty ring box and crawled on the bed next to her. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

  “I’ll design your weddin
g band, Beck,” she promised. She fell to the bed next to him, eagerly accepting his kisses and caresses before sitting bolt upright in horror. “Beck!”

  “What?” He made to tug her down, but she shook him off.

  “What will we say when people ask how you proposed?” She took in his hard, naked body. “I’ll blush like crazy.”

  “It’ll be our little secret. And when our kids ask, I’ll say, ‘Go ask your mom.’” He was grinning ear to ear.

  “You are terrible!” But she was laughing too hard to worry. He gathered her into a big hug.

  Ashley admired the ring over his shoulder for a brief second and dropped her hand. The true jewel was in her arms, not on her finger.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4981-7

  KNOWING THE SCORE

  Copyright © 2010 by Marie Donovan.

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