“I had nothing to do with this, Your Mightiness. I didn’t even know about it. Do you really think—do you honestly think I’d want my name linked to yours, even on a piece of paper?” She stopped an inch from him, hand lifted, forefinger pointed at the center of his chest. “Never! You understand that, oh almighty potentate? Not in a million years. Not in a hundred million years. Not ever!”
Lucas knew how to stop the angry words flying from that pretty mouth. All he had to do was haul her close, bury his hands in her hair and kiss her.
And, Dios, he wanted to do it.
To watch her eyes fill with rage—and then watch them fill with desire.
Was he crazy? He’d just read a document full of whereases and wherefores that boiled down to an arranged marriage between him and Alyssa Montero McDonough—that middle name made sense, he thought crazily, all that heat and smoldering fury—he’d just discovered his beloved, conniving, scheming, possibly senile grandfather had pledged his name and his fortune to a Texas wildcat, and he wanted to kiss her?
Like hell he did.
What he wanted was to get out of this madhouse. Not tomorrow. Right now.
“This,” he said, “is getting us nowhere.”
“A brilliant conclusion.”
He shot her a look. “Do not push me,” he said softly.
She started to speak, then obviously thought better of it. The woman wasn’t a fool.
“I’m sure you and Norton thought this was very clever. I’m not sure how you managed it, how, exactly, you got my grandfather to sign this—this bit of legal mumbo jumbo—”
“Me?” Alyssa huffed. “Me? I didn’t have a damned thing to do with it!”
“I had little to do with it, sir,” Norton said, the words tumbling from his lips in a rush. “Your grandfather’s attorneys did most of the work, then sent the papers to me, after which my client signed it in front of a notary and we sent it to Spain by messenger so that your grandfather could sign it, too, and then—”
Lucas pounded his fist on the desk again. By the end of this charade, he thought grimly, the damned thing would be fit for firewood.
“I have no interest in the back-and-forth steps, Norton! I’m talking about…” What was the phrase? Lucas had spent four years at Yale; he had a condo in New York. America was his second home but right now, his English was failing him. “I’m talking about the setup. The preparation you and McDonough and the charming Miss McDonough put into this—this sting.”
“Sting?” Alyssa shot forward. This time, her finger almost poked a hole in his chest. “Your grandfather gets together with my father and they agree to—to sell me to you and you accuse me of a sting?”
She gasped as Lucas caught her wrist and yanked her arm behind her back. The action brought her to her toes. Brought her body suddenly against his.
His response was instantaneous. Just the feel of her, the soft fragrance of her, and he hardened like stone. Her eyes widened in pretended innocence until they were big enough to swallow him whole.
“Isn’t my reaction the desired effect, amada?” he said, so softly that only she would hear him. “Dangle the bait in front of the mark? Pretend innocence, then show outrage, and do it so well the poor sap believes it?”
“Hijo de una perra,” she hissed through her teeth.
Lucas grinned and drew her closer.
“Don’t be like that, chica. Just because I’m wise to you doesn’t mean I don’t find you appealing. But I’m not a fool. I don’t buy my women—and if I did, I would not pay with my name and my fortune. That you thought I would insults my intelligence.”
“What I thought,” Alyssa said, her voice trembling, “was that you were too horrible to get a woman on your own. And, clearly, I was right.”
She gasped as he tightened his hold.
“So horrible you kissed me as if you never kissed a man before? As if having me drink from your mouth is what you’ve waited for all your life?” His smile faded. “Or are you that fine an actress? Shall we try it again and see?”
“Prince Lucas,” Norton said quickly, “please, sir, you’ve got this wrong.”
The lawyer’s voice quaked. He looked, Lucas thought with grim satisfaction, like a man watching a lighted match falling oh-so-slowly toward a box of dynamite.
“Miss McDonough—Alyssa is telling the truth. This was your grandfather’s idea. And my client’s,” he added quickly.
“I find that difficult to believe.”
“It’s true, sir. Prince Felix can confirm it. Miss McDonough knew nothing about the arrangement until Aloysius’s death.”
“That’s when you told her the happy news? That she would become a princesa?” Lucas smiled coldly. “But you’re a bright girl, amada. You must have known how easily such good luck could slip through your fingers. How hard you must have worked to come up with a scheme that would keep me from getting away.”
“Sir,” Norton pleaded, “call your grandfather. Let him confirm my story.”
“Why should I bother? I’m not going to honor this—this joke of a contract, Norton. You managed to defraud an old man, but—”
“Your grandfather paid half the sale price, Your Worship. Only half. And I did not—”
“Half is more than this desolate piece of land is worth.” Lucas dropped Alyssa’s wrist. She stumbled back, rubbing at the welt his fingers had left in her tender flesh. “You want more, sue us for it.”
“I strongly urge you to phone Prince Felix,” Norton said quietly. “I have no wish to sue you, sir, but I have an obligation to see my client’s wishes to their rightful end.”
The pudgy, small-town counselor, still shaken, seemed determined to stand his ground. That, more than anything, gave Lucas pause.
He’d already admitted, if only to himself, that Felix might have agreed to this nonsense. Not the marriage contract, of course. That, without question, was something McDonough or Norton or the woman had slipped into the agreement.
But Felix might have said he’d buy the ranch for twice its worth. He was an old man; he was not well; Aloysius McDonough had been his friend.
Why wait until he returned to Spain to ask Felix about the contract? He could get the answers he needed now and close the book on this mess.
If Felix said he had agreed to the purchase, Lucas would honor the contract terms. He’d write out a check and walk away.
The rest, the marriage agreement, the thing these two maniacs kept calling a stipulation, was a joke. He’d mention it to Felix if only for a laugh.
Lucas took his cell phone from his pocket. It was some ungodly hour of the morning back home but he didn’t give a damn.
It was time to get to the bottom of this.
“Out,” he commanded.
The attorney bolted. Alyssa stayed where she was, arms folded.
“This concerns me as much as you,” she said coldly. “I’m not leaving.”
Lucas inclined his head. “Stay, by all means, chica,” he said, just as coldly, “so I can see your face when my grandfather laughs at the supposed ‘stipulation.’”
There were plenty of transmission bars now.
Lucas dialed his grandfather’s private number. It rang a long time; the voice that finally answered was not a voice he knew.
“Who is this?” it said cautiously.
“Prince Lucas,” Lucas snapped. “Who is this?”
“I am—”
Lucas heard snatches of unintelligible conversation, then Felix’s familiar voice.
“Lucas?”
“Si, Grandfather. Who was that?”
“No one of importance. A new secretary. Where are you?”
“I am where you sent me. At El Rancho Grande…a misnomer if ever there was one.”
“And what do you think, mi hijo?”
“I just told you. The place is in terrible condition. The outbuildings are falling down, the land is played out, there’s no stock—”
“I know all that,” Felix said impatiently. “Wh
at of the rest?”
“What rest, Grandfather? Do you mean the mare? There is no mare. There is nothing here except an attorney who insists we owe a final payment of twice what the land is worth and a woman who needs lessons in manners.”
Silence. Then Felix gave a low laugh. “So her father told me, Lucas. The question is, are you the man to give them to her?”
The hair rose on the back of Lucas’s neck. He turned toward Alyssa, still standing as she had been, back straight, arms folded, chin elevated at an angle so high it seemed impossible.
“Abuelo,” Lucas said softly, “what do you mean?”
“It’s a simple question, mi nieto. Are you man enough to tame this mare?” Felix’s tone turned sly. “Although my understanding is that my old friend’s daughter is better described as a filly than a mare. Do you agree, Lucas?”
Lucas took the phone from his ear, stared at it as if he might see Felix’s face if he tried hard enough, then sank down in a chair.
“You know about the marriage contract,” he said, switching to Spanish.
“Of course.”
“But why?”
“You know the reasons, Lucas. You are not getting younger.”
“I am thirty-two.” Yes, Lucas thought, but right now, he sounded twelve. “I am thirty-two,” he said, more forcefully, “and before you make the speech you’ve made before, si, I know of my responsibilities. I know it is my duty to carry on the Reyes name. I know—”
“Perhaps it is better to say, I am not getting younger.”
“Grandfather…”
“She is of excellent stock. She is handsome. She is healthy.” Felix’s tone turned sly. “And I have been assured, she is a virgin.”
Lucas shot another look at the woman. A virgin? A woman who burned like a flame in a man’s arms? It was nothing but another lie.
“…ask, Lucas?”
Lucas cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, abuelo. I didn’t get that. What did you say?”
“I said, what more could a man ask?”
“The right to make my own choices,” Lucas said firmly. “I am sorry, Grandfather, No voy a casar a esta mujer!”
The words, “I am not going to marry this woman,” seemed to echo through the room. He shot a sharp glance at Alyssa McDonough. Her expression had not changed. Of course not, he thought with relief. She didn’t understand a word of his language.
“You are a grown man, Lucas. Do as you wish.”
“Fine. I will see you tomorrow, then, in late—”
“You understand, you are not to pay the lawyer—the executor—the balance of the sale price for the ranch.”
Lucas nodded. Felix was lucid. That, too, was a relief.
“Of course I understand. You overpaid the initial amount as it is.”
“It was part of the arrangement, Lucas. Did you read the contract? If you did, read it again, more calmly this time, and you will see that if the marriage does not take place, we owe nothing more.”
“Excellent.”
“Yes. Just as long as you understand…” Felix coughed. The cough was deep and wet; it went on for a long time while Lucas frowned.
“Grandfather? Are you ill?”
Again, he heard muffled conversation. And, again, his grandfather’s voice, not coughing now but somehow weaker.
“I am fine,” the old man said briskly. “Where were we? Ah, yes. You will not give Thaddeus Norton the money.”
“Trust me, Grandfather. I had no intention of it. As I said, you already gave them too much.”
“It went to Aloysius. To pay for half the back taxes on the ranch. The bank will take the place now, to make up for the rest. There’s a developer eager to plow all the acreage under.”
“What the bank does is not our concern, Grandfather.”
“I agree. The girl cares—she has some sentimental attachment to the land—but that, too, is not our concern.”
Lucas looked at Alyssa again. Her face showed no emotion, but her eyes had the glitter of unshed tears.
Did she understand what he was saying? Who gave a damn? Not him. If she loved the place so much, why hadn’t her father left it to her?
She was a good actress, that was all. Fiery when fire was needed, cold as ice when the situation demanded it.
And hot with passion when he kissed her, but was that part of the act? Yes. It had to be
Or had she surrendered to him? Surrendered to his kisses, his body, his need?
Furious with himself, Lucas stood, marched to the window and looked out. The storm had ended; a fat ivory moon was caught in the branches of a cottonwood tree outside.
“Well,” Felix said, and sighed, “I did what I could. I told Aloysius the girl would not lose the land because, of course, once you married her and paid the arrears, the land would be, in a sense, as much hers as yours…but never mind.”
Lucas rubbed his hand over his face. “Grandfather—”
“But I cannot force you to obey the terms of the contract, mi hijo. I understand that. It is a disappointment for me, that I cannot fulfill the wishes of my dead friend, but—”
“Grandfather. There must be a way around this.”
“I am afraid there isn’t. It’s all right, Lucas. The girl is not your worry.”
“No. She’s not.”
“She is her attorney’s worry, and I am sure he will step in and help her. You have met him, have you not? Small man. Overweight. Soft. Sweats a lot.”
Lucas turned and looked at Thaddeus Norton, who was mopping his forehead again.
“What about him?”
“Aloysius told me Norton has an, uh, an interest in the girl. A deep interest, if you know what I mean.”
Dios, how could something simple become so complicated?
“Norton wants the woman for himself?” Lucas said, still speaking in Spanish, still watching Alyssa. Did her color heighten? No. It had to be his imagination.
“He does, yes. But it’s the perfect solution. We don’t pay the rest of the money, you don’t get married. And the girl is taken care of. Si? The lawyer will see to it.”
Lucas said nothing for several long seconds. Then he cleared his throat.
“Grandfather,” he said briskly, “we entered into this arrangement in good faith.”
“We? It was I, Lucas, not we.”
“Reyes entered into it,” Lucas said, even more briskly. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll tear up the contract, stipulation and all, and simply give her or the lawyer, whichever is appropriate, the money to pay off what is owed. She’ll keep the ranch and we’ll call it a gift in memory of an old friend.”
“No.”
Lucas raised his eyebrows. “No?”
“Aloysius and I entered into a contract.”
“I understand all of that but, damn it…” He took a deep breath. “Look, we can well afford this—this act of charity, grandfather.”
“Listen to me, Lucas. You must take another look at the contract. It is very specific. Unless the marriage takes place, there can be no final payment. The ranch is lost.”
Lucas could feel a throbbing pain starting behind his left eye. No sleep. No food. No peace. No wonder his head hurt.
“Grandfather, maybe you didn’t understand my suggestion. An act of charity—”
“I don’t want your damned act of charity,” Alyssa McDonough snapped.
Lucas stared at her. Had she understood the entire conversation?
Suddenly a cough rumbled through the telephone, and another and another. Lucas had never heard anyone cough like this; his grandfather sounded as if he were drowning.
“Grandfather? Grandfather!”
The coughing faded away and another voice came on the line.
“I’m sorry, Prince Lucas, but your grandfather cannot continue this conversation.”
“What do you mean?” Lucas roared. “What’s happening? Who in hell are you?”
“I am his nurse, sir, and—Madre di Dios! Llamada para una ambulenc
ia, Maria. Rapidamente!”
The call ended in a blur of voices. Lucas struggled for control, then whirled toward Alyssa McDonough.
“I heard everything,” she said. “Every word. I speak your language—were you too egotistical to think I couldn’t? And I don’t want your charity, I don’t want anything from you, I don’t want—”
“I must return to Spain immediately.”
“Well, good for you because—”
“You will come with me.”
“Don’t be an ass!”
“I have no time to waste in foolish argument. There are issues to be settled and I cannot remain here to deal with them.”
“Listen, you—you poor excuse for a human being—”
Lucas had spent part of an afternoon and most of an evening with this woman. She was still a stranger but he had learned one sure thing about her.
He knew how to silence her and he did, gathering her quickly in his arms, drawing her to him and taking her mouth, hard, with his.
She struggled.
He’d known she would.
And then she moaned, gave that little sigh he knew meant surrender, and lifted herself to him. To his kiss.
He gave in to it, if only for a second, to the pull of it, the sweetness, the hunger.
Then he clasped her shoulders and looked down into her blurred eyes.
“Will you walk, or must I carry you?”
“You can’t do this!”
Lucas laughed, lifted Alyssa into his arms and carried her from the house.
CHAPTER SIX
WHAT made men think they had the right to walk right in and take over a woman’s life?
Was it bred in their genes? Was there a strand of male DNA labeled “authoritative jerk?” Had scientists missed it all these years?
Maybe so.
Alyssa figured that would go a long way toward explaining the way her father—her adoptive father—had treated her mother. It would explain how he’d tried to treat her. How he had treated her, as it turned out, thinking he could sell her as if time had turned back hundreds of years.
She was being carried off by a stranger, an arrogant, unwelcome visitor in this house that should have been hers.
The feel of his arms closing around her stunned her, but not for long. When Lucas began striding from the room, her useless lawyer sputtering weak protests as he scurried after them, Alyssa’s shock turned to fury.
The Spanish Prince s Virgin Bride Page 6
