Exquisite Acquisitions

One

Macy Tarlington never knew whether her attempt at disguise would work or not. Today, the beige scarf covering her ink-black curls and dark sunglasses hiding her violet-blue eyes seemed to do the trick. She hadn’t been followed. Thank goodness. She looked a little too much like her mother, which wasn’t overall a bad thing. Her mother had been known for her beauty, but resembling Hollywood’s beloved Queen of Cinema had drawn paparazzi to Macy like bees to honey. They believed her DNA alone gave them the right to trample on her privacy, especially during her time of mourning.

Tina Tarlington might have been world famous and her fans might have believed they knew everything about her, from her award-winning movie roles and her three doomed marriages to her celebrity status, but they hadn’t really known her. Not the way Macy had.

Walking into New York’s opulent Madison Avenue auction house made her twitch with anxiety. She bumped shoulders with her good friend, Avery Cullen, as they approached the Waverly salesroom. Avery was the least likely sort of American heiress, very unassuming and certainly not a spoiled cliché. “Sorry if I’m crowding you,” she whispered. “I can’t seem to help it.”

Avery’s warm smile reassured her as she took Macy’s arm. Her friend’s steady touch soothed her jumpy nerves. “I don’t mind, Macy. That’s why I’m here, for support.”

With eyes well hidden beneath sunglasses, Macy was free to dart glances all around, scoping out the large, elegantly appointed room where Tina Tarlington’s prized possessions would be auctioned off. Beautifully tufted, rounded high-back chairs were lined up in a dozen rows, split in the center by an aisle. The surrounding walls were easy-on-the-eye tones of beiges and light peach. Wide white wainscoting centered the walls and wrapped around the perimeter of the room. Multifaceted crystal chandeliers twinkled and provided abundant light overhead.

“I can’t thank you enough for enduring this with me.” Avery had made a quick trip from her home in London to be with her today.

“I know how hard this is for you.”

“Hard and necessary, unfortunately. Having my mother’s things on display like this gives me a stomachache. Oh, I am so not looking forward to this.”

Avery gave Macy’s hand a squeeze as they pressed farther into the room. “Those two seats on the aisle in the back are ours,” Macy whispered. “I made arrangements beforehand for us.”

And as they headed to those seats, Macy noticed that every other chair in the room was taken. Even in death, Tina Tarlington drew large crowds.

An attendant came by immediately to hand them a catalogue listing the items being auctioned off, and after a brief conversation Macy nodded her thanks to the woman standing at the head of the room. Ann Richardson, the CEO of Waverly’s, who had secured the estate sale from Macy, gave her a silent greeting in return before turning to shake hands with the patrons in the front row. It was important to Ms. Richardson that the Tarlington auction go off without a hitch. Waverly’s stood to make a hefty commission.

Macy opened the catalogue and flipped through the pages, noting item after item from her mother’s estate. The descriptions were listed as lot numbers along with an estimate as to their value. The first item stopped her cold as memories flooded in and tears formed in her eyes.

On Macy’s tenth birthday, just as the celebration was about to begin, Tina had rushed into the Magic Castle Mansion, an exclusive club showcasing musicians from around the world, dressed as Eleanor Neal, the role which had garnered her an Academy Award nomination. She’d come straight from the set, the shoot going longer than anticipated. Macy hadn’t cared that her mother was late for her party or that she’d come in her professional makeup and wardrobe. She’d flown into her mother’s arms and hugged her so tight that Tina laughed until her mascara had run down her face. It was magic and one of the best birthdays of Macy’s life.

Now, the pink silk and sequin dress her mother had worn that day was described as “Worn by Tina Tarlington in the acclaimed film Quest for Vengeance, 1996.”

Her mother’s entire life seemed to have been whittled down to one-sentence blurbs and numbers. The ache in Macy’s stomach intensified.

Discreetly, she closed the catalogue booklet and took a deep breath. She couldn’t fall apart. Not now. She had to go through with this auction. She gave herself a little pep talk, reciting in her head all the practical reasons why selling her mother’s treasures and jewels were necessary.

As she surveyed the room, people-watching, waiting for the auction to begin, she found the distraction she needed in a Stetson-wearing hunk of a man sitting across the aisle from her and one row up. His head was down, concentrating on the catalogue. The cowboy wore a crisp white shirt underneath a stylish Western suit coat that accentuated the solid breadth of his shoulders. The glint of silver from his bolo tie twinkled under the chandeliers. His profile was strong, grooved with a razor-sharp cheekbone and an angular jaw. He swung his head around and glanced at her for a split second, as if he suspected her of watching him. She panicked for an instant and held her breath. Luckily, he hadn’t lingered but went on to scan the rest of the room.

But oh my! When he’d turned, she’d gotten the full impact of his gaze and found him even more appealing than she’d originally thought. A crazy jolt of warmth surged through her body. The powerful sensation was new to Macy.

Butterflies replaced the turmoil in her stomach.

How strange.

She continued to grab eyefuls, shifting her gaze away occasionally to avoid being caught. She was grateful for her little disguise. It provided her freedom to peruse something more exciting than the auction.

The cowboy glanced over the seated bidders and up toward the podium time and again. He appeared anxious and impatient for the auction to begin.

A minute later, Ann Richardson took the podium with a welcome to everyone at the auction. After a cordial greeting, the CEO turned the microphone over to the auctioneer and he stepped up to the podium. The auction began and Macy watched as, one by one, bidders raised their paddles when the first gown was offered up.

Dear, sweet Avery sat vigilantly beside her, a pillar of quiet strength. When the auctioneer’s hammer fell, finalizing the winning bid, Avery squeezed her hand and whispered into her ear. “Just remember, your mother would want you to do this.”

Macy nodded and slid her eyes closed briefly. It was true. Her mother had loved her possessions, and heaven knew, she had not been good with money. But her mother had made a point of always making sure Macy had known that she, not her profession or her jewels, was the most important, most beloved thing in her life. Misguided as her mother’s life might have been, Macy knew she’d been loved. When her father, Clyde Tarlington, had died ten years ago, Tina might have given up, but she’d shown Macy what it was to be a survivor. To press on, even under adversity.

Once again, Macy glanced at her handsome cowboy, sitting patiently across the aisle. He’d taken off his hat, out of consideration to the people seated behind him, she presumed, as soon as the bidding had begun. His dark blond hair was well-groomed, thick and curling at the edge of his collar. The Stetson rested on his outstretched leg and Macy reeled in her wayward thoughts, thinking if she could only trade places with that hat.

The corners of her lips lifted at the idea. And Macy’s foolish heart skipped a beat.

His face was becoming familiar to her. He was a good diversion, a distraction that she couldn’t seem to shake. She was drawn to him, and she couldn’t figure out why. She lived in Hollywood, where gorgeous men were a dime a dozen. She’d acted in small movie roles opposite men more beautiful than any female starlet.

No, it wasn’t his looks that drew her to him. It was something else. He held himself with an air of confidence that belied his obvious discomfort seated in a venerable New York auction house.

She liked that about him.

For all she knew, he’d be more comfortable bidding on longhorn steers.

She liked that about him, too.

Another mental chuckle emerged. She had to stop fantasizing about him. Macy returned her attention to the auction, grateful to the cowboy for giving her something thrilling to admire while her mother’s life was being bartered away.

Soon the diamond rings would be up for sale.

Macy cringed and slithered down in her seat. She actually felt sorry for the people who wound up with them.

Three diamond rings. Three doomed marriages.

“The rings are cursed,” she whispered to Avery.

Her friend nodded ever so slightly. “Then you should be glad to get rid of them.”

Oh, she was. She was extremely glad. Those rings represented pain and heartache to anyone in their possession. The love surrounding those rings would never survive. Her mother’s three failed marriages were testimony enough. Each one of her marriages had been horrific in their own way, and Macy had begun thinking of the diamond rings as the Love Curse Diamonds. Of course, it wasn’t a good idea to tell that to the press. She needed the money too badly to risk lowering their value. But there were stories behind those diamonds and, unfortunately, Macy knew them all too well.

The bidding was to begin on the three-carat diamond that Clyde Tarlington had given to her mother. The setting was unique, a one of a kind. The nearly perfect gem had been placed in such a way that it formed a T with surrounding smaller diamonds nestled beside it to finish forming the letter. It was by far the most exquisite ring of the trio.

Avery nudged her shoulder and Macy, deep in thought, slid her friend a sideways glance. “Take a look.” She gestured across the aisle. “That gorgeous cowboy you’ve been eyeing all afternoon is getting ready. I bet he bids on the Tarlington diamond.”

Carter wanted that Tarlington diamond so bad he could taste it. He’d spend a small fortune on it, if it boiled down to that. He groaned with impatience.

The stately woman sitting next to him, her nose in the air, reacted to the sound he made with a high and mighty puff. Then her gaze shifted to the felt hat sitting on his lap. She gave him another sniff of disapproval.

Well, hell. He’d offended her.

Because he was in a good mood, being nearly engaged and all, he sent her a smile of apology.

The woman gripped her purse with thin wiry fingers and inched away from him without returning his smile. She didn’t bother to disguise her feelings. He didn’t fit in. She didn’t approve of him being here.

He couldn’t fault her for that thinking. He didn’t fit in here. He didn’t like crowds, tight spaces or the irritating roar of New York traffic. But he had two darn good reasons for attending the auction.

The engagement ring he was determined to buy and the friend he was determined to help.

Both were important and could be life altering.

An article he’d read in the New York Times this morning about possible collusion between Waverly’s and their rival auction house, Rothchild’s, flashed into his mind. The piece had put the Waverly establishment in a bad light.

Doubt as to whether he should sink any money into the auction at all had crossed his mind and old survival instincts had clicked in. Carter was known for making sound financial decisions, and if it were anyone else, he would’ve walked away from the auction. But his friend Roark was a straight shooter. If Roark trusted Ann Richardson and Waverly’s, that was good enough for Carter. It was as simple as that.

The CEO sat up front but off to the side, overseeing the auction. He’d kept a keen eye on her since the auction began and wouldn’t let her out of his sight. He couldn’t get near her before, but he wasn’t leaving until he’d delivered the message from Roark.

Before the auction began, Ann Richardson had given a tidy welcome speech to the patrons, reminding them about Waverly’s honest and reputable dealings for over one hundred and fifty years. Her way of dispelling the rumors tarnishing today’s auction. Anticipation stirred in his gut, and the reality of what he was about to do struck him. After thirty-one years of bachelorhood, he was ready to propose marriage and settle down with a woman.

Finally, the auctioneer announced the famous gem. “The Tarlington emerald-cut diamond ring is three carats in weight, with VS1 clarity and D color with six surrounding baquette diamonds weighing a total of one point four carats. We’ll start the bidding at fifty thousand dollars.”

Carter raised his paddle and made the first bid.

Three other paddles went up after his.

And by the time he lifted his paddle again, the bid had increased to seventy thousand dollars. The room got extremely quiet. Only the slight rustle of clothes and an intermittent cough echoed in the large room. As far as he could tell, there were four bidders, and all of them were actively bidding as the price of the Tarlington diamond doubled.

He lifted his paddle again.

Two of the other bidders dropped off and Carter found himself in a one-on-one duel.

It was between him and someone he couldn’t quite make out from a row closer to the front of the room. The mysterious bidder wasn’t giving up.

When the bid doubled again, Carter retired his paddle. It was clear that his opponent had unlimited means and wanted that diamond ring no matter the cost. Carter had too much business sense to pay more than twice what the darn thing was actually worth. He’d already overbid. When the hammer fell and the bid was won, he lifted up a fraction from his chair and craned his neck to find out who had outbid him. A young woman wearing an austere business suit and a satisfied smile had nodded to the auctioneer.

Carter frowned. He hated losing.

The next diamond presented was a ring of less iconic value than the Tarlington diamond, but with two nearly perfect carats of dazzle in a platinum setting, given to the legendary star by her third husband, Joseph Madigan. Carter wouldn’t be outbid again.

“Going once. Going twice. Fair warning, this lot is about to be sold.” A second ticked by in silence. Then the gavel hit the podium. “Sold!”

Satisfaction curled in Carter’s belly. The diamond ring was his. He’d flown across the continent for an engagement ring to impress Jocelyn, and tomorrow night he’d be dishing it up on a silver platter.

Once the auction concluded, Carter made fast work of securing the diamond ring, along with the certificate of sale. He caught Ann Richardson as she was leaving the salesroom. “Ms. Richardson?”

The tall willowy blonde turned and surprised Carter at how young she appeared up close. She blinked. “Yes?”

“Pardon me, ma’am. But I need to speak to you privately.”

“Is there a problem with the sale? You won the bid on a stunning ring.”

“No, I’m happy with the ring.”

“I’m glad. I hope it brings you enjoyment.” She eyed him carefully.

“It will.” Carter smiled. “I plan on proposing marriage to my girl tomorrow.”

The caution in her expression softened. “Oh, well, congratulations, Mr.?”

“Carter McCay.”

She put out her hand and Carter gave a light shake. “I have no connection to the press, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Her eyes widened. Then a guilty smile emerged as if she’d been caught red-handed. “I won’t deny it crossed my mind,” she muttered with a sigh. She glanced around, noting the patrons filing out of the room. She lowered her voice. “They can be brutal.”

Carter nodded. “Is there someplace we can talk privately? It’s about Roark Black.”

Ann’s perfect brows lifted as if that was the last thing she’d expected to hear. Concern mixed with curiosity, and she immediately began walking toward a private exit. “Follow me.”

Her shiny black heels tapped across a stone hallway. Carter fell in step beside her, and it wasn’t long before she ducked into a small office marked Private. She waited until he entered before closing the door. The room was windowless and dark. She flipped a switch and overhead fluorescents brought light into the office. She leaned against a large glass desk and folded her arms. “What about Roark? Is he all right?”

“I hope so. He’s a friend. We go way back. I met him while on duty in Afghanistan. A couple days ago, I got a text from him with your name on it.”

“My name?” She leaned toward him, surprised. She pushed shoulder-length hair behind her ears and took a breath. “Where’s the message?”

Carter pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times until the cryptic message appeared. He moved beside her and handed her the phone. She stood there for a second, reading the passage a few times. “He says he doesn’t trust anyone with this information but me. And he’s in hiding somewhere.” She looked into his eyes. “What’s he gotten himself into?”

“I have no idea. He mentioned a statue. Do you know what that’s about?”

She nodded slowly, rereading the message. “It’s the Gold Heart statue. There are only three in existence. He might have stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have.” Ann turned to him again. “He could be in real danger.”

Carter held her stare a moment. “He could be.”

Troubled, she sighed quietly and handed back the phone. “He’s a good man.”

Carter nodded. “Listen, I know Roark. He’s gotten himself into some really tight spots before, and he’s always gotten out.”

Her voice was a mere whisper. “Are you telling me not to worry?”

Carter was concerned his friend was in trouble, but he couldn’t do a damn thing about it until he heard from him again. “No sense in worrying. I have faith in him. Roark knows what he’s doing. But whatever it is, he sure as hell wanted me to get this message to you without going through the normal channels. He’s not sure who he can trust.”

“I understand. Thank you for going through the trouble. Will you promise to let me know if you hear anything more from him?”

“I can do that,” Carter said.

“Thank you.” She walked him to the door. “And congratulations on your engagement. I think any woman would love to have a Tarlington ring on her finger.”

Carter grinned. “That’s the plan.”

She gave him a full-out dimple-inducing smile, and Carter figured she didn’t offer those up too often. “I think your soon-to-be fiancée is a lucky woman.”

Carter thanked her and left Waverly’s with a diamond ring in his pocket and a hum in his heart. He’d accomplished his two goals today.

Tomorrow his life would change forever.

Pajama-clad, Macy stared at her reflection in the hotel mirror, the phone to her ear and her legs stretched out on the massive bed. She never liked reserving a room with a king bed. With her slight frame, too much of the mattress went to waste. But then, getting two doubles made her feel lonely, as if there was someone missing who should be sleeping in the other bed. Macy had offered to share her hotel room with Avery, but her friend had booked with a smaller, more secluded hotel. Macy had respected her privacy.

“Are you still thinking about that cowboy from the auction today?” Avery asked.

She smiled into the phone. The cowboy? Now, he would take up a good portion of her bed and nothing would go to waste. “Guilty as charged. But you can’t blame me, can you? My love life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. If I only had one-tenth of the lovers MovieMash.com claimed I had, it would be a miracle. I haven’t been on a date for eight months. That qualifies me for that new reality show, Dating Dilemma.”

“Oh, Macy. It only means you’ve been dealing with your mother’s illness and grieving. You’ll know when the time is right.”

Avery, too, had recently lost a parent, a father she’d hardly known, so she could relate to the heartache Macy felt. Avery had been such a dear friend when Tina died. They’d shared the bond of loss together.

“You had the hots for the cowboy. That’s a start,” Avery encouraged.

With a sigh, Macy glanced in the mirror again and shook her head at the simple yellow-and-white flowered nightgown she wore. She made a mental note to buy sexy lingerie. “That’s true.”

There was something about the cowboy that called to Macy. She’d been smitten from the moment she’d spotted him. Smitten. Such a perfect word to describe her feelings for a mystery man who’d helped her get through a tough time today. Not that he’d ever know he’d helped her, but still, Macy had warm feelings for him that went beyond the physical.

“The poor guy,” she said quietly. “He bought the cursed diamond. I overheard him saying he was getting engaged tomorrow.”

“How did you hear that?”

“I have eagle ears, remember? Just as we were walking out of the auction, I heard him tell Ms. Richardson why he bought the ring. I was crushed.”

Avery giggled. She thought Macy was kidding, and why wouldn’t she? Any normal person wouldn’t develop strong feelings for a man she’d just laid eyes on. But Macy couldn’t really share the truth, that as soon as the cowboy announced he was getting engaged, her heart sank and her stomach clenched. The disappointment overwhelmed her. It had hurt Macy to think that her fantasy cowboy was already taken, and now hours later she still couldn’t wrap her head around it. “He hasn’t proposed yet and his marriage is already doomed.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” her friend said. “Wouldn’t you like to think it’s not the diamond rings but really some odd quirk of nature, an imbalance of romance or simply a weird coincidence that those three marriages ended with heartbreak?”

“I don’t know, Av. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not the rings. Maybe I just don’t believe in love anymore. I mean, my mother and all of her close friends have had their hearts broken from love affairs. You know how much my mother loved my father. When he died in that crash, she’d been so angry with him for leaving her alone.”

Clyde Tarlington had been a talented actor in his own right and a loving father to Macy, but gambling and liquor were his true loves. He’d been addicted to both. When he won big, he’d buy rounds of drinks for everyone, and unfortunately one night ten years ago, his big win meant losing the most important gamble of his life. He’d gotten behind the wheel of his car and plowed the front end of his Lamborghini into a tree just three blocks away from their home. His blood alcohol level had been double the legal limit. That night, his luck had run out.

“I know that was heartbreaking for her,” Avery said.

“But she picked herself up and married husband number two and then husband number three. And you know how well those marriages worked out.” Macy’s throat tightened with remorse. “That cowboy bought loser number three’s ring.”

Avery’s voice softened. “Macy, are you going to be okay? I can come over.”

“No, don’t be silly. It’s after midnight. I’m fine,” she fibbed.

Macy had financial woes that made her dizzy with dismay. Avery knew most of it, so there was no sense rehashing her legal problems. She was being sued for refusing to back down on her principles. And now she was paying the consequences, literally, with her mother’s estate. She had an appointment with her New York attorney tomorrow that she wasn’t looking forward to. “I appreciate you being my rock today. I leaned on you and you came through.” She faked a yawn and made it noisy enough for Avery to hear. “I’m pooped. I’m going to climb into this big bed and get some sleep.”

“Okay…if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. I’ll see you for dinner tomorrow before your flight. Have a good night.”

“Same to you, Macy. Sleep tight.”

“I intend to,” she fibbed again.

She wouldn’t get much sleep. Her troubles would follow her into the night.

Carter sat across the table from Jocelyn in a cozy corner in the Russian Tea Room, the muscles around his lips pulling tight. He stared at her with unblinking eyes. The setting, the diamond, everything was perfect. Except her answer. “No?”

“That’s right,” she whispered. “No, I won’t marry you.”

With a shake of his head, he leaned back in his seat in disbelief.

Jocelyn flipped her blond hair to one side, a habit he’d noticed her doing when she was annoyed. The long strands fell over the thin strap of her glimmering gold dress. Her full lips, glossed in cherry red, formed a pout. Then she sighed dramatically, as if the weight of the world was crushing her shoulders. “I thought you knew this thing between us wasn’t serious.”

He kept his tone level. “How was I to know that?”

“We’ve never spoken of the future,” she said. Her eyes flashed to the opened velvet box he’d laid near the edge of the table. “Not in specific terms.”

Carter’s voice elevated. “You mean, when we were lying in bed at night and you’d say how much you wanted a family one day. Three kids, exactly. And when you said you wanted a second home in the Hamptons, those were just random ramblings?”

He had trouble believing her rejection and searched his memory for clues. How had he missed her signals? He thought they wanted the same things in life.

She ignored the question, speaking in a tight voice, “We haven’t known each other long, Carter.”

“A year isn’t long enough?”

“Not with you living in Wild River and me living in Dallas. We haven’t seen that much of each other.”

Raw, ego-deflating pain gutted his insides. The flat-out rejection worked a number on his pride and made him look at Jocelyn in a new light. One that wasn’t flattering. A steady tick began to eat away at his jaw.

“The ring is a stunner, really.” The diamond that would never see her finger sparkled against incandescent candlelight. “But I can’t accept it.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t love you.”

In one fell swoop, he gripped the plush black ring box and clicked it shut before shoving it into his pocket. He didn’t want to look at the damn thing anymore. “Can’t be clearer than that.”

“Well, I’m…sorry.”

She didn’t sound all that sorry.

“Hell, your apology fixes everything. I suppose you want to be friends now?”

His ego was taking a big hit, but his heart hurt, too. He’d wrapped his future dreams around spending his life with Jocelyn. How had he gone so wrong? He’d known Jocelyn was a high-maintenance woman, but he figured he could make her happy. Now, he felt like a sap.

Her chin angled up, and when she spoke it was as if she were speaking to a dog that should obey. “Don’t be mad, Carter.”

Was she kidding? Anger was only one of the emotions torpedoing his belly. “Don’t tell me how to feel, Jocelyn. Even you’ve got to realize this is a blow to me.”

“You had it wrong. You made a lot of assumptions about our relationship.”

“I made…” Carter kept his anger contained. He spoke quietly, through clenched teeth. “You tempted me into a relationship, in case you’re forgetting. From the first day we met, you were all over me. Remember the Wild River County Fair? You brushed your body up against mine so many times, I needed a dunk in the river to cool myself off. You came after me, as I recall. And we’ve been together ever since. So excuse me if I’m pissed off. Excuse me if I don’t understand.”

And what about all those nights she’d screamed his name and told him he was the best lover she’d ever had? Or the midnight rides they’d take on horseback at the ranch? Or the way she clung to his arm whenever they were out in public, as if he was the most important person in her life? Was it all an act?

“You don’t understand. I wasn’t after you.”

“Like hell you weren’t.”

“You really don’t get it. I thought I was transparent. Clear as glass.” She rose from the table, clutching her small beaded purse. She shot him an unflinching gaze. “I’m in love with Brady. I was trying to make him jealous.” She gestured with a swipe of her hand. “All of this was for Brady’s sake.”

Carter sank back into his seat, his eyebrows denting his forehead. He hadn’t seen this coming. “My cousin?”

Carter had met Jocelyn one day when she was visiting her grandmother, Brady’s neighbor. She’d come by Brady’s place and the three of them, Brady, Carter and Jocelyn, had driven out to the county fair.

He stood abruptly and towered over her, pinning her with a glare. A bitter taste formed in his mouth. “So all this time, you were trying to make Brady jealous? How’s that working out for you?”

She stiffened and her gaze narrowed to two eye-lined slits. “Shut up.”

She made a move to pass by him, to escape his wrath, but he wasn’t through with her yet. He took hold of her arm, garnering her full attention. “You played me for a fool.”

She straightened her stance, holding her head high, like a member of royalty. “You are a fool. You’re a dumb stupid hick who let me string him along.”

His teeth ground together and his words came out low, from deep in his gut. “I’ll make sure to tell Brady you said that. Being as we’re related, that means he’s a dumb stupid hick, too. He was right about you. Yeah, the dumb stupid hick doesn’t think too highly of you. And this time, I’m not disagreeing.”

She flinched. His victory was small consolation, and while he knew better than to speak that way to a woman, he couldn’t stop himself because her indiscretion had been much worse.

He released her at the same moment she yanked her arm free. “Leave.”

She did. She walked away, and Carter didn’t bother to watch her exit. He headed for the bar, unnerved and feeling like hell. He needed to soak his sorrows with a double shot of whiskey. Jocelyn wasn’t the woman he thought she was. She’d been using him all along. Yeah, but he had to admit, she had him good and fooled.

No woman would ever fool him again, and after his liquor arrived, Carter downed the drink in celebration of escaping the hangman’s noose.

Thirty minutes later and fortified with the best whiskey money could buy, Carter stepped out of the restaurant and was hit with a blast of humid August night air. It was the only thing about New York that reminded him of Texas-cloistering humidity. The heat crept up his collar and made him sweat.

All of a sudden a crowd emerged, swarming a woman who was trying to enter the restaurant. Bulbs flashed, the rush of footsteps sounded on pavement, shouted questions flew through the air. More than a dozen paparazzi crammed her as she made a feeble attempt to push her way out. Her shoulder was bumped once, twice. She swiveled right, then left, trying to break away. Questions were leveled at her like grenades. When her eyes met his, in that brief moment, Carter saw a caged animal struggling to get free. She was trapped.

Recognition struck him smack between the eyes. She was the woman he’d glimpsed at the auction yesterday.

Someone yanked at the scarf hiding her jet-black hair. Long, luxurious curls spilled down her shoulder, and she reached behind her head to put the scarf back in place. Carter had seen enough. He muscled his way through the crowd, giving a few well-placed shoves himself to get to her. When he finally faced her, he gripped both her hands in his, firm but gentle. She gazed at him with desperate, deep lavender-blue eyes. Carter had no time to dwell on her beautiful face. He blocked a cameraman’s shot with his body, and the Stetson riding low on his forehead lent another measure of concealment. Use everything in your arsenal, he’d learned in the marines.

He leaned in real close. “I can get you out of here. But you have to trust me.”