Tess felt herself blanch. “Daddy went to Westcott Hall?” She knew how explosive his temper had been lately, and how much he hated the Westcotts. Had Cole returned home from his restaurant to find her father waiting for him? But no, Cole had said he was heading out of town. “So what happened, Mama?”
“Josh found him outside the gate of Westcott Hall, arguing with a security guard.” Her mother’s voice was tight with barely constrained tears. “He was demanding to see Cole, and the guard told him Cole was out of town. Ian didn’t believe him, and said something derogatory about the Westcotts. You know how he always does. The guard said he was a Westcott—Cole’s cousin—and ordered him off the property. Ian said he was on a public road, not private property, and he wasn’t leaving. The guard threatened to have his truck towed for being illegally parked. Ian threatened to get his gun.”
“Dear God. He didn’t pull that old hunting rifle out of his truck, did he?”
“No, but Josh was afraid he would. So Josh went to the truck to get the rifle and hide it in his own car. But then the guard saw Josh with the rifle and drew his gun.”
Tess gasped, afraid to even imagine the outcome.
“Ian lunged at him to stop him from shooting, and Josh jumped in to stop the fight. Before they knew it, the guard’s gun went off. Then the cops pulled up with their sirens wailing. Your father couldn’t stand up because his back went out. He’ll probably be in traction for weeks. But the worst of it is—” Margaret’s voice broke and her eyes filled with tears “—Josh was shot.”
Horror washed through Tess. “Shot?”
“The bullet’s in his hip. He’s being prepped for surgery now. Kristen’s with him.”
Tess sat down, her legs suddenly weak. “Do the doctors think he’ll be okay?”
“They’re not sure.” Margaret sat beside her, white-faced. “Even if the damage isn’t permanent, he’s in serious trouble. Both Josh and your father were arrested.”
“Arrested?” Sick with anxiety, Tess closed her eyes, wishing she didn’t have to hear any more. “What were they charged with?”
“That Westcott guard turned out to be an off-duty policeman. They were charged with assaulting an officer with a deadly weapon. They could be sent to prison.”
As the horror of the situation crested over her, filling her with dread, a realization hit Tess. It was happening. Two more loved ones of the McCrarys would be sacrificed to tragedy.
“The rifle wasn’t even loaded,” her mother said with a sob. “He never keeps it loaded unless he’s hunting. But with our luck, they’ll be convicted anyway, both him and Josh. I just know it.”
Tess knew it, too. She felt it in her bones. Her father and Josh would be sent to prison. Her father would probably die there. Her mother would pine away in grief. Josh would suffer through a living hell and be branded a convict—and possibly lose the use of his legs from the bullet wound. Kristen’s heart would break.
Not one McCrary family has remained together without losing a loved one to tragedy … since 1825…
The curse, she realized, might not be to blame. As a rational, educated woman, she couldn’t say that it was. But as a McCrary daughter facing yet more devastating heartbreak, she couldn’t say for certain that it wasn’t.
Which meant that she had to do everything necessary to lift that godforsaken curse, just in case it was real.
At least Fate had been fair enough to give her the chance to fulfill the curse’s demand. She’d be marrying “Westcott of Westcott Hall” in two days time. She would allow nothing, but nothing, to get in the way of those plans.
*
The media ardently embraced the news that Tess McCrary’s father and an accomplice had been arrested trying to force their way into Westcott Hall with a gun. The long-standing animosity between the Westcotts and the McCrarys was rehashed ad nauseum. Photos of her father and Josh appeared on newscasts throughout the day, along with snippets from the interview she and Cole had given that morning—mostly shots of Cole drawing her against his chest in a protective stance and glaring at the cameras.
Reporters, friends, mere acquaintances and complete strangers telephoned, e-mailed and attempted to visit. McCrary cousins and uncles left angry messages in support of her father and raging against “those damn Westcotts.” A crowd gathered in the parking lot of her apartment complex until security chased them off.
Tess felt like a fox running from a pack of hounds. She was glad that Kristen and her mother were staying at the hospital for the night. At least they’d have their privacy guarded by hospital staff. They were both frantic with worry, as was Tess. The bullet had been removed from Josh’s hip, but the surgeon said it could take days before he’d know if Josh had sustained lasting damage.
Her father, meanwhile, remained stretched out in traction. He refused to speak to anyone in his immediate family other than to mutter that they’d betrayed him.
Tess tried to break through his stubborn silence. “I understand why you’re angry, Daddy. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the marriage. But it’s just a business deal, and we’re getting millions of dollars for it … and McCrary Place
.” His profile remained mulish. “Now that you’re in legal trouble, you’d better pretend you’re happy about the marriage. The prosecutor will have a hard time convincing a jury that you assaulted the guard if they believe you were visiting Cole on a friendly basis.”
His face mottled. His lips curled. His nostrils flared.
Her mother hurried Tess away from his bedside. As upsetting as his anger was, she supposed it was better that he wasn’t speaking to her. No amount of his ranting would stop her from going through with this wedding.
Forcing herself to focus on necessary details, Tess sent the signed prenuptial agreement to Cole, then spent the rest of that afternoon posting bail to keep the police from transferring her father and Josh to jail. Her mother had to put up her home as collateral for the bond. Tess took out a loan with her own car as collateral to retain a defense attorney.
And through it all, she tried to get in touch with Cole via his secretary. He responded by leaving messages for her on her home phone—simple requests for her to call him. The number he’d left was constantly busy, probably with the same glut of calls she’d been experiencing. A chaotic, hit-and-miss game of phone tag ensued.
The game was complicated by the fact that she spent many hours that evening at the hospital with her mother and Kristin. Her father gave the hospital strict orders to put no calls through to his room, which prevented Cole from reaching Tess there. Josh remained in the Intensive Care Unit, where calls were not accepted.
By the time she returned home late that night, Tess settled for leaving a message on Cole’s voice mail explaining what had happened—and that her father’s gun hadn’t been loaded—and asking if he’d intercede on their behalf. Maybe he could talk to his cousin, the security guard, and persuade him that Ian McCrary hadn’t been assaulting him. Hey Cuz remember that old McCrary cuss and the kid with the rifle who jumped you? They’re really not so bad…
Tess groaned out loud and stared miserably at the ceiling as she lay in bed.
The guard was probably like all the other Westcotts—a McCrary hater—and couldn’t wait to put one behind bars. And if, by some miracle, Cole did get him to agree to have the charges dropped, her father just might turn around and sue the security guard for injuring him and Josh. Cole himself might be held liable, too, since the guard had been working for him. All facts considered, Cole and his cousin would be better protected by having Ian McCrary convicted.
What a mess.
It was a good thing they’d planned to marry in a civil ceremony—a quick signing of papers with no pomp or celebration to complicate matters. She could just imagine the problems that might arise if they invited family or even friends. With grim humor, she wondered what the etiquette books had to say about that situation. Should a note be included in the wedding invitations asking guests to please refrain from
drawing weapons or engaging in fist-fights during the ceremony, or should a bouncer be situated between the bride’s side of the room and the groom’s?
No, emotions were running too high in her family to invite anyone to the wedding ceremony—and her father would see to it that those emotions ran even higher. Anyone who attended the ceremony would be branded a traitor for life. She imagined the same contentious emotions might be escalating in Cole’s family.
For all Cole knew, her father really was out to get him. She wouldn’t blame him if he changed his mind about marrying her. He could probably find another McCrary bride. He had that evil-genius thing going for him.
But would marriage to another McCrary woman—one who wasn’t as closely connected to the original McCrary clan of Charleston—satisfy the curse?
Listen to yourself, Tess … rambling on about curses. How crazy it sounded. As much as she tried to talk some sense into herself, though, she couldn’t ignore even the slightest possibility that the curse might be valid. Too much tragedy had stalked her family for too many generations. Too much heartbreak loomed in the future.
If Cole decided on another McCrary bride, he might satisfy the terms of his father’s will, but not necessarily the curse. She couldn’t allow him to change his mind about marrying her.
She also needed the money now more than ever. Medical and legal bills were accruing. How could she turn down money when two men’s futures might depend on having plenty of it? Three men’s futures. Phillip hadn’t been found yet. With only a widowed mother on a fixed income and a younger brother in college, he had no one else to pay for the search efforts.
With these pressing financial needs in mind, she’d written “two million dollars” into the prenuptial contract. Cole had, after all, offered that amount. But now she felt guilty for having accepted so much, as if she’d succumbed to a bribe. She wondered if Cole thought of her acceptance in that light. Did he believe she’d set aside her reservations about the marriage because he’d established her price?
Burying her face in a pillow, she chastised herself for caring what he thought. As long as he went through with the ceremony on Friday, lived up to their agreement and fulfilled the terms of that curse, it didn’t matter what he thought about her.
Even so, she fell asleep craving communication with him.
Early the next morning, the doorbell rang. She peeked out, expecting to see reporters or other unwanted visitors. To her surprise, a deliveryman stood there with a huge bouquet. Two dozen long-stem roses, and a small silvery gift-wrapped box.
She accepted the velvety red flowers, breathed in their cool, misty fragrance and waited until the deliveryman left before opening the card. I’ll do everything I can. C.
A ridiculous sheen rose to her eyes. She wasn’t even certain why. The drama of the past two days had obviously unhinged her. The man was only a business associate. A money-making vehicle. An element necessary in lifting the curse. A pleasure-seeking, shallow-hearted playboy.
Not an ally. Not a friend. Certainly not a lover.
Glad that she’d kept her perspective regarding him, she opened the gift-wrapped package. Inside a velvet-covered ring box sat a dazzling diamond engagement ring.
Size five-and-a-half. A perfect fit.
Business, she reminded herself with only a touch of desperation. All of this interaction with Cole Westcott was merely business.
She would not lose sight of that fact.
*
Chapter 4
« ^ »
Cole called her later that afternoon, when she returned from work, the day before their wedding. She kept the phone call brief, to the point, focusing entirely on the problem her father had incited.
“I’m sorry, Tess. As long as my cousin Leo insists your father and Josh attacked him, the D.A. can and probably will press charges. I can’t advise Leo to say that the whole thing was a misunderstanding. There’s the matter of a bullet in Josh’s hip. Any compromise on Leo’s part could leave him open to lawsuits, and maybe Leo’s being fired from the police force.”
She appreciated his honesty. And she knew he spoke the truth—a compromise would open them to potential legal problems. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t swear that her father and Josh wouldn’t sue Leo, and possibly Cole himself.
He repeated the reassurance he’d given earlier in his note. “I’ll do what I can.”
She thanked him, careful to keep her tone business-like. Though she uttered a bland acknowledgement that she had received the ring he’d sent, she did not thank him for it. She would consider it a prop necessary in their charade.
She didn’t mention the roses at all. They’d affected her too deeply. And the warmth in his compellingly masculine voice stirred unwanted reactions within her. How would she ever make it through the next five months as his wife?
The only way to maintain her sanity was to discourage personal interaction of any kind.
On Friday, therefore, the day of her wedding, she dressed in a neat beige suit, twisted her hair into a no-nonsense chignon and slipped into a pair of sensible pumps. She refused to soften her appearance with flowers, pearls or any other adornment that might give Cole the idea that she considered this ceremony to be an actual wedding.
It was a business transaction. Nothing more.
She packed a light suitcase to take with her to Westcott Hall. Cole had made it clear that she was to “move in” to Westcott Hall directly after the ceremony. She understood the necessity of spending her nights there—to convince the court that they were living as husband and wife. But she would leave the majority of her possessions here, in the apartment she shared with Kristen. Her life wouldn’t actually change much at all … except, of course, for her nights.
Her nights. Ridiculous, how the very thought flustered her. The marriage would be in name only, of course, and she’d have a private suite in Westcott Hall. She doubted that Cole himself would spend many evenings at home. She had no idea, then, why her blood rushed at the idea of sleeping under his roof. Because it isn’t natural for a McCrary to live at Westcott Hall. Any McCrary would be nervous, venturing into that hostile territory.
She calmed herself by thinking about the wedding rather than the nights following it. The ceremony was set for late afternoon. Because of the media attention, Cole had changed its location from the courthouse to a small country chapel. Security arrangements would be simpler there, he believed. He was also sending a car for her.
She planned to spend her morning at the bridal shop. If reporters plagued her, she’d shut the doors and finish taking inventory. No sense in wasting a business day.
With her small suitcase in hand, she paused at the door of her apartment. The crowd of journalists and cameramen had doubled in size since yesterday. Holding her breath, she descended the steps and strode to her car. They shouted questions, followed her with video cameras and snapped photos. A caravan of vehicles trailed her car through town.
It was then, as she parked in front of her parents’ quaint, downtown shop, that she realized she could turn this media frenzy to some advantage. Her family was in the bridal clothing business, and she was about to be a bride. A widely televised bride, from the looks of it. Her parents could never afford to pay for such extensive exposure for the Belles & Brides Boutique.
Glad for the distraction the idea provided, Tess called her mother away from her father’s bedside, where he continued to ignore family members. She also summoned Lianna, one of her dearest friends since elementary school, to help with her hair—and because she badly needed someone with Lianna’s optimism to lend her moral support.
When her allies arrived, Tess chose a simple gown of rich ivory satin with an off-the-shoulder neckline, a soft basque waist and full, box-pleated skirt trimmed in delicate pearl appliqués. Her mother, who specialized in alterations, took in a quick tuck at the waist to insure a perfect fit.
Lianna then worked her magic with scissors, a comb and a curling iron while she and Tess indulged in a
heart-to-heart about the latest developments in their lives. Tess’s part of the discussion centered around her dealings with the endlessly infuriating Cole Westcott. An hour flew by, and by the end of it, Lianna had caught Tess’s hair up in a cluster of loose curls with a few tendrils trailing in seeming abandon. She finished by weaving a tiara of pearls and blossoms through the artful disarray.
Even Kristen helped with the preparations, tearing herself away from Josh’s bedside long enough to bring Tess a pearl necklace and earrings from home.
By five o’clock, Tess stood in the dressing room of the shop and gazed with surprise into the mirrors surrounding her. She barely recognized herself. She’d been transformed from a plain-Jane businesswoman into … well, a fairly spectacular bride. Amazing what a gown, pearls and an abundance of lustrous curls could do for a girl.
When her amazement faded, another emotion welled up unexpectedly—a strong, almost painful wistfulness. She’d dreamt for so long of the day she would wear a gown like this, celebrating the wonder of a life-long commitment, and beginning her life anew as wife of the man she loved.
Today was not that day. Phillip would not be her groom, and though she refused to admit defeat, she had to realistically face the fact that she might never see him again. The sense of melancholy grew too overpowering, and she forcefully subdued it. She would not think about Phillip or the wedding that hadn’t taken place last year. She would concentrate on the business at hand.
The business at hand. Her marriage to Cole Westcott.
Apprehension knotted her stomach. What would he think when he saw her? With his ego, he’d think she’d gone to extremes to impress him. Or worse, that she viewed this wedding as a real one; that it meant more to her than it should.
HOT-BLOODED HERO Page 6
