Lois Dyer – The Princess and the Cowboy (страница 3)
“I sure as hell hope you’re right,” Justin muttered. “Where did he get the idea it was time we all went hunting for brides?”
“A Bride Hunt,” J.T. grinned. “Sounds like one of those reality shows.”
“Yeah,” Alex put in dryly. “A really bad reality show.”
“You know this won’t work unless all of us are in,” Gray said.
“And it won’t work for any of us unless we come up with a contract that ties Harry’s hands in the future,” Justin added. “We have to make sure he can never blackmail us like this again.”
“Absolutely,” J.T. put in. “If he thinks he can manipulate us with threats, he’ll do it again in a heartbeat.”
“So we need an iron-clad contract that controls the situation.” Justin could tell from J.T. and Alex’s tones that they were considering whether to join him. He wasn’t so sure about Gray. “If all Harry threatened us with was loss of income, I’d tell him to go to hell, and walk. But I’m not willing to lose the ranch. Nor do I want to be the cause of another heart attack that might kill him. What about the rest of you?”
The brief silence that followed his question was finally broken by Alex. “If it was just money, I’d tell him to go to hell, too. But it’s not, is it?”
“It’s about the things and places he knows matter most to us.” J.T. sounded grim.
“Part of Harry’s demand was that the brides not know our identity until after we’re married. How are you going to find an eligible woman in Seattle who doesn’t know you’re rich, Justin?” Gray asked.
“I’ve been out of state for most of the last two years, plus I’ve never been as high profile as the rest of you.”
“Yeah, right,” J.T. scoffed. “There isn’t a single one of us who hasn’t had our picture in the paper or in a magazine.”
“But not as often as Harry,” Gray said thoughtfully. “He’s the public face of HuntCom. I’ve got to give the Old Man credit, he’s deflected as much publicity from us as he could.”
“True,” Justin agreed. “So, how about it, Gray? Are you in?”
“Face it, Gray,” Alex said. “Harry holds all the cards.”
“He always has.” J.T. sighed audibly.
“Okay, fine,” Gray finally said. “But the only way to tie the Old Man’s hands is by outvoting him in the boardroom. I’m not agreeing to
Justin rang off, dropping the cell phone onto the seat next to him. He’d never wanted to get married, let alone have a kid.
If Harry expected hearts and flowers with some sappy version of true love along with Justin’s cooperation, the Old Man was in for a rude awakening. Hell, Harry’s threats and demands were downright bizarre.
The morning after the conference call with his brothers, Justin woke early. Just before 6 a.m., he carried a mug of coffee, a writing pad and a pen out to the deck. Several streets below, sunlight sparkled on the waters of Puget Sound. An ocean freighter lumbered slowly through the deep water toward the Port of Tacoma to the south. Its ponderous size and speed made the boxy white-and-green Washington State ferry appear sprightly and swift as it neared Colman Dock on the Seattle waterfront.
Much as he loved his Idaho ranch, Justin couldn’t deny the Pacific Northwest was stunningly beautiful on this sunny July morning. He tipped his chair back, propped his bare feet on the seat of a neighboring chair, ankles crossed, and wrote a name in capital letters at the top of his potential-bride list.
Lily Spencer.
Justin had left Seattle the next day and had rarely returned over the following two years. Long days spent in punishing physical labor had exhausted his body but hadn’t stopped his mind from thinking about her. Finally, after months of pain, the ache in his chest where his heart was went numb. He figured that meant he was finally over her.
He tuned out the small voice in his head and went back to his list-making, forcing himself to write despite the distaste he felt for the task.
He jotted down the names of three unmarried women before he stopped abruptly, frowning at the list. Every one of them was a business connection he’d met through HuntCom. They all knew he was billionaire Harry Hunt’s son.
Despite equating the Bride Hunt with any other project he’d done for HuntCom, Justin felt a distinct reluctance to make the very personal details of Harry’s demand known outside the family.
He stared at the rooftops—marching in neat blocks down the hill between him and the waterfront—while he considered the problem.
He drank his coffee and watched the marine traffic on the waterfront, his thoughts drifting back to Lily Spencer. He ended his relationship with Lily when he’d realized she was a woman who wanted marriage and a family. Neither of those two commitments were in his future. He’d walked away from her so she could find what she needed.
He punched in the phone number for her shop, frowning as he realized he still remembered it, even though he hadn’t dialed it in years.
“Good morning, Princess Lily Boutique. How may I help you?”
“Is Lily in?”
“May I ask who’s calling?”
“Justin Hunt.”
“One moment, please.”
Justin paced impatiently, listening to the murmur of female voices and occasional laughter in the background.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hunt.” When she finally came back on the line, the feminine voice was distinctly cooler than before. “Ms. Spencer isn’t available.”
“When do you expect her?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” she said politely. “May I take a message?”
“No message.” Justin hung up, convinced the woman was lying.
He suspected Lily was somewhere in the shop or in her workroom one floor above, but had refused to take his call.
When he’d abruptly ended their three-month affair, Lily hadn’t cried or called him names. Unlike other women he’d dated and broken things off with, Lily hadn’t made a scene at the restaurant. Instead, she’d carefully folded her napkin, stood and walked out without a word.
Maybe that was another reason he needed to see her—maybe he wanted her to yell at him and tell him what a rat he was for dumping her. Then he could apologize, and if he was lucky, she’d forgive him. At least then she wouldn’t hate him for the rest of her life.
With sudden decisiveness, he grabbed his keys from the counter and left the apartment. Ten minutes later, he parked the Escalade on Ballard Avenue and jogged across the brick street, dodging traffic.
The mannequins in the bowfront display windows of Lily’s shop wore white lace bustiers and garter belts, and were posed against draped black satin. Justin stepped inside, the shop’s interior an Aladdin’s cave of jewel-tone colors and sexy silk and lace women’s underwear. The air had a subtle floral scent, and the designs and textures of the lingerie were extravagantly feminine.
The door eased shut behind him and he paused, searching the room. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of Lily.
Several women browsed the racks and shelves. All of them gave him curious glances. He ignored them, scanning the shop, hoping to find Lily. She wasn’t there.
“May I help you, sir?” The willowy redhead behind the counter left a customer sifting through a basket of lacy thongs and approached him.
Justin recognized her voice; she was the woman he’d talked to on the phone earlier.
“I’m looking for Lily.”
The redhead’s eyes widened, her smile disappearing. “I’m sorry, sir. She isn’t in.”
“When do you expect her?”
“I’m not sure. Would you care to leave a message?”
“Yeah, sure.” He took a card from his pocket and jotted his cell-phone number on the back, followed by the words
The salesclerk took the card and glanced at it. “No other message?” Her expression was sharply curious.
“No.”
“I’ll make sure she gets the card.”
“Thanks,” Justin drawled, suspecting his card would hit the trash can as soon as he left the shop. He wondered if Lily was upstairs in her workroom, avoiding him.
Short of forcing his way through the Employees Only door behind the counter and climbing the stairs, he couldn’t be sure. And he didn’t want to go there—there were other ways to reach her.
Tonight he’d drive to Lily’s town house and knock on her door unannounced. He’d apologize for ending their affair, make sure she was having a happy life, ask her to forgive him and leave.