Bachelor's Bought Bride (11 page)

“I’ll call you when I find her.” He turned and marched for the door.

“You’d better find her tonight. If I see any whiff of this in the papers tomorrow…”

“You’ll what?” Gavin turned and shot him a confrontational stare. This man was used to rolling over people and making them sweat—and to making his daughter feel inadequate and unworthy. “Bree’s the
important person here. She’s upset, and justifiably so. It’s my fault, and I intend to put it right.”

If he could only find her.

But he couldn’t. She’d disappeared into the misty coastal air. Gavin phoned everyone he knew and quite a few people he didn’t. After four days, he was getting desperate.

His college friend Phil Darking was an editor at the local paper, and Gavin even went to see him, in case he’d heard anything on the gossip grapevine.

Phil had the gall to laugh. “Your wife’s done a runner and you’re calling the papers to ask where she is? Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? What if I use you as the headline tomorrow? It’s a slow news day, you know.”

“I just want to find out where she is. I’ve talked to everyone in town. I’m really worried, Phil.”

“You think she’s going to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge?”

“No, she’s far too sensible for that.” Why did people think this was funny? “I love her, Phil. She doesn’t know that and I need to tell her.”

“You married her without telling her you love her?”

“Of course I told her, but now she doesn’t believe me. She thinks I married her for her money.”

“Which would be quite understandable. Do you know just how rich those Kincannons are?”

“I don’t care how rich they are. I don’t care about anything except getting her back. I don’t even care about the damn agency I’ve spent five years planning. I’d scrap
the whole thing just to have her here right now, and I’m not kidding.”

The realization shocked him. Five years of dreaming and scheming meant nothing compared to the prospect of spending his life without Bree. She’d been gone four long, agonizing days. Four mornings without her smile. Four evenings without her kisses. Four nights without her arms around him. He couldn’t take much more of it.

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Tell me about it. I’ve hired a private detective, I’ve called anyone I even think might know her, and gone to visit all of her relatives. I’ve been haunting all her favorite places in the city, but she’s just disappeared. No one has even the slightest idea where she is.” He blew out hard and looked up at his friend. “I’ll do anything to get her back, Phil.”

“Anything?” Phil’s voice had a funny edge to it.

“Anything.”

“I LOVE YOU. COME BACK TO ME.”

The bold black print splashed across the front page of the
San Francisco Examiner
on newsstands all over the city. Gavin felt equal measures of embarrassment and excitement as he strode along a crowded street. The air hummed with the zing-zing of a passing cable car and his chest filled with hope. He’d already received a phone call from a popular local TV show, wanting him to come on and tell his story. Much to his surprise, he’d readily accepted.

He’d done the interview that morning. “Yes, I’m afraid I did accept money from my wife’s father. I saw it as an investment in my new business.” He’d cleared
his throat and glanced down at the microphone pinned to his tie. Hot lights had brought out pinpoints of sweat on his brow, and the three cameras pointing right at him hadn’t helped much, either.

“Yet you didn’t tell your wife anything about it.” The heavily starched blonde leaned in until her mascara-clad lashes were almost brushing his cheek.

“No, I never told her. And that’s what makes the whole thing wrong. She’s my wife and we should confide in each other about everything.”

“And she was hurt when she found out.”

“She was devastated.” Gavin’s voice thickened. “After she learned about the money, she decided I only married her for the cash, and that I didn’t care about her.”

“Is that true?”

Gavin stiffened his shoulders and reminded himself it was a leading question, not an accusation. “Nothing could be further from the truth. I love Bree. She captivated me from the first moment I met her. She’s a lovely, talented, sweet, brilliant and funny woman, and I want to share the rest of my life with her.”

“Spoken like a man in love.” The gruff voice of the male cohost drew Gavin’s attention to the side. “And is it true that you’ve given the money back?”

“Yes. Every penny of it.” Pride swelled in his chest. He’d arranged the reverse transfer the previous afternoon. He’d had to throw in a big chunk of his personal savings to cover the money he’d already spent on the new agency. He’d also sent a personal note to Elliott Kincannon, apologizing for his role in the scheme and for any subsequent publicity. Frankly, though, he felt the old man deserved any wind that blew up his well-tailored coattails.

“I’m hardworking and ambitious enough to support Bree without any extra help. I know that now. Whether I can still make a go of my own agency, or whether I go to work for someone else, I’ll continue to do my best work for my clients. Since I’ve met Bree, I’ve changed my perspective on everything. Work is still important to me, but I’ve discovered the joys of companionship. I’d never been so happy in my life, as I was during these last few weeks with Bree. I miss her more than I can describe.”

“Aw.” The female host had patted his leg. “Aren’t you adorable? I’d marry you myself if you weren’t already hitched to this lucky girl.” She’d turned to one of the three large cameras pointing right at them. “Bree, do come back to him, won’t you?”

But she hadn’t.

Bree’s muscles ached slightly every morning since she’d arrived in Napa. Maybe because she spent much of the day walking in the hills, trying to keep moving and keep her mind off a certain scheming and duplicitous man.

Faith rolled and stretched on the sheets next to her. “Morning, baby.” She stroked the cat’s soft fur. Sun shone through the delicate blinds on the window and illuminated the pale yellow walls of the pretty bedroom. She hadn’t been here in years, though of course it was maintained in her absence like the other properties in the estate. Her mom used to love it here in the summers when she was little, and they often came to watch the grape harvest. As far as she could remember, her dad had never been here, not even once. It was one of more than thirty properties on the family rosters, and he was
probably barely aware of its existence. That made it a great place to hide out.

But despite the glorious weather, the lovely surroundings and all the peace and quiet anyone could wish for, she still felt rotten.

And it was all Gavin Spencer’s fault.

She heard a noise in the other room. A flopping sound.

She eased out of bed and went to investigate. Something lay on the doormat just inside the kitchen door. Mail? She hadn’t told anyone she was coming here. Well, except Elle, but she’d hardly be sending letters. Perhaps people had noticed someone was living here and started to include her on the local “all residents” mailing lists.

It was a plastic envelope from a popular courier service. She ripped it open to find a folded tabloid newspaper. Affixed to the front was a sticky note that simply said, “And turn on the local TV news.”

Bree frowned. She pulled the sticky note off the front of the paper and squinted at the large headline. “I LOVE YOU. COME BACK TO ME.”

Her stomach clenched and something painful and bright opened inside her.

D
on’t get carried away.
Bree scolded herself as the blurry black-and-white words danced in front of her eyes.
It’s not like it’s Gavin talking to you.
Ridiculous that she should even make a mental connection.

Still, something prickled through her—hope, or fear—as she turned back into the cottage and looked around for her glasses. When she found them on the bedside table, her hands trembled as she picked them up.

She pushed her glasses up her nose and scanned the page. Her jaw dropped as she read on.

“San Francisco is abuzz with the mysterious disappearance of newlywed heiress Bree Kincannon.”

She gasped. Disappearance? That made it sound as if something suspicious had happened to her. Was Gavin in trouble?

“She hasn’t been seen since last Thursday, when she took off after telling her new husband she’d found out he’d been paid to marry her.”

A claw of panic gripped her. How did they know?

“Apparently Bree’s father was so keen to marry his daughter off to a suitable husband, he paid the young executive one million dollars to take her off his hands.” She cringed. It was bad enough to have such a terrible thing happen, but to have the whole world know…

Tears sprang to her eyes. Who would be cruel enough to show this to her?

She remembered the sticky note urging her to turn on the TV news. Some hidden core of self-preservation told her not to. Did she really want to see herself mocked and gaped at on TV, as well?

She glanced back at the paper. “Since her sudden departure, Bree’s husband, Gavin, has been distraught.” Bree tugged the paper closer. “Desperate to find his new wife, he approached the papers himself, asking for help.”

Bree’s mouth fell open. Then it snapped shut. Of course he was. He didn’t want to lose the million bucks, so he needed to hunt her down and talk her round before Daddy Warbucks snatched the cash back.

She let out a long, loud sigh and threw the paper down. Even the bold headline, “I LOVE YOU. COME BACK TO ME,” read entirely differently in light of the large sum of money involved. One million dollars was worth a little public embarrassment to most people, and obviously Gavin was no different.

Her dad must be hitting the ceiling. He hated publicity. He adhered to the old credo that a man’s name should appear in the papers three times during his life—his
birth announcement, his wedding announcement and his obituary. Oh, and maybe the occasional impressive business merger. Certainly not a tacky headline about how he paid someone to marry his dumpy daughter.

She would laugh, except somehow tears kept welling up, and now they’d made a big wet patch on the cheap newsprint. Ali rubbed against her leg and she leaned down to pet her. She saw the sticky note where it had fallen on the floor.

“I don’t want to watch TV, Ali. It’ll be even worse. Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

Ali mewed in agreement and wrapped her tail delicately around Bree’s calf. Still, curiosity goaded her into the tiny bedroom, to where a small but quite new television sat on a dresser. “I must be a glutton for punishment,” she murmured as she turned it on. “Or just silly. I’m sure there are far more interesting things going on in the Bay area than an unhappy heiress running off.”

Sure enough, the first channel showed people chugging some sports drink in a commercial, the second followed the blow-by-blow action of a local prize fight, and the third offered some cubic zirconia rings in a two-for-one deal.

“See? I’m getting an exaggerated sense of my own importance. No one cares about me at all.”

Except Gavin.
The words snuck up from somewhere in her conscience.

“Him least of all,” she said aloud.

Then a thought crept over her. Had he brought the paper himself? Who else would care if she got his message? Perhaps he was out there somewhere, lurking
in the rows of vineyard grapes behind the cottage, ready to spring on her and talk her back into his bed.

Never.

She crossed her arms, which were clad in a very unfashionable plaid work shirt she’d found in the closet. Probably from some farm manager who’d used the cottage for a while. These arms weren’t going anywhere near Gavin Spencer again.

Oversize cubic zirconia still sparkled on the screen, and she wondered if the ring he’d given her was really an heirloom from his grandmother or a fake he’d bought off the television. When you married a woman for money, it really didn’t make sense to throw in anything valuable.

It had been a pretty ring, though. She thought of it falling to the restaurant floor, among stray breadcrumbs and dropped napkins. She still could hardly believe she’d had the guts to do that. Totally unplanned, too! She’d been so upset and angry she hadn’t even given a thought to the big scene she was making. It was probably her fault as much as his that the papers had caught onto the story.

The amazing deal on fake diamonds segued into a vacuum-cleaner commercial. Then the local news logo popped up.

Turn it off, now!

Her mind marched toward the set, but her feet stayed firmly planted on the floor.

“Heiress Bree Kincannon is still missing, more than five days after her tearful breakup from her new husband.” A hideous picture of her filled the screen. The photo was at least five years old, because she recognized the awful plaid taffeta ball gown her aunt had talked her
into wearing to some parties one season. With a goofy updo and a strand of big pearls, she looked every bit the lovelorn heiress.

Ouch. And why was she always an “heiress”? Why not “photographer Bree Kincannon,” or even a plain old “San Francisco native” or something?

Her inner monologue screeched to a halt as Gavin appeared onscreen. Dressed, as usual, in a sleek dark suit, heartbreakingly handsome.

She let out a whimper, then cursed herself for it. At least no one was around to hear her. One advantage of being a hermit.

“Yes,” Gavin said, leaning into a mike, “I’m worried. She’s been gone almost a week. No one has heard from her. Of course I’m concerned.”

“Do you think she’s extra vulnerable because she’s an heiress?”

Gavin looked confused for a moment.

The reporter drew closer. “Do you think she might have been kidnapped?”

Gavin’s lips parted in astonishment. “I don’t think so, but…” He frowned. “I suppose we can’t rule out anything until she comes back. That’s why I’m so desperate for word of her whereabouts.” He shoved a hand though his hair in that cute way he did when he was thinking. “Bree, wherever you are, please, call me right now. I don’t know what to do without you. You’re everything to me.”

The picture faded away into a story about penguins at the zoo. Bree stood staring, openmouthed, at the television.

She could almost swear from the look on his face that
he meant every word. Her heart beat hard and painful against her ribs, swollen and ready to burst.

“Don’t let him do this to you!” she cried aloud. Already he’d turned her into the kind of maniac who ranted to herself. Still, what if he truly did think she’d been kidnapped, or worse? She didn’t want him actually worrying about her.

Maybe she should call and leave a message on his phone.

A message on his phone. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place. Why did everything have to be so complicated and awful?

The harsh doorbell ring jolted her hard. No way could she go to the door now, cheeks streaked with tears. Even if it was just the mailman, he might have seen the news. She wouldn’t be able to go to the store for eggs without people staring. She snapped the TV off.

Again the doorbell rang, harsh and insistent.

“Go away.” She hissed the words, not intending for them to be heard.

“Bree.” A deep voice boomed into the cottage. It reverberated across the living room and into the bedroom where she stood.

Gavin.

The breath rushed from her lungs and her knees felt weak.
Stay silent. He can’t see you here. He’ll go away.

But every nerve ending in her body stung with the urge to rush to the door.

“Bree, are you there? It’s me, Gavin.”

She closed her eyes and tried not to breathe.

“I miss you terribly.” His words echoed through the
silent cottage. “I haven’t been able to sleep since you left.”

She knotted her hands together as his words wrapped around her. She hadn’t slept much either. It was hard to sleep alone once you got used to having a warm, well-muscled body next to you.

Remember, it’s the money he’s after, not you.
The icy blast of memory kept her feet rooted to the floor.

“I gave the money back.”

Her chin shot up. Had he really?

“I didn’t want it anymore. I can’t believe I took it in the first place. I was just so caught up in the idea of going out on my own that I didn’t think about how it would look to you.”

“Because you thought I wouldn’t find out.” The words flew out of her mouth—barely more than a whisper—before she could stop them.

“Bree, you
are
there!” He rattled the door handle. “Let me in, please. I have so much apologizing to do.” The urgency in his voice tugged at her heart.

“What if I don’t want to hear it?” she said weakly. It took all her strength not to rush right into his treacherous arms.

“I’m just so glad you’re safe.” His relief rang across the space. Suddenly the wall between them seemed too much a barrier for her to bear. Bree found herself walking across the wood floor, silent in her tube socks. When she reached the doorway, she peered around the molding toward the front door, which had two frosted glass panes. She could see the tall shadow of a man—a very particular man—blocking the light behind them.

She stopped. Once she opened the door and got a
look at him, she might lose all ability to think straight. “Did my dad demand the money back?”

“No. He demanded that I get
you
back. He’s not a man who acknowledges the possibility of failure.” Humor echoed in his deep voice.

“I guess that’s why you’re here, then.” She spoke flatly.

“No! I’m here because I want you back. I
need
you back. Bree, I never imagined I could be so dependent on another person for my happiness. Ever since you left, I’ve been miserable.” Emotion reverberated in his gruff voice. “Please open the door. I don’t think I can survive another moment without seeing your face.”

Bree’s heart squeezed. Then she remembered the tear streaks, her unstyled hair, her plaid shirt, sweats and tube socks. “I’m not at all sure you’ll like what you see.”

“Trust me, if it’s you, I’ll like it.”

“I’m not glammed up.”

“All the better. Nonstop glamour was a bit exhausting.” Laughter hovered around his voice.

Bree walked very slowly to the door, still not at all sure whether she was going to open it. Her feet seemed to be moving of their own accord with the rest of her going along for the ride. When she reached the door she put her hand on the brass knob and hesitated.

Gavin was there, less than a foot away. She could see his tall silhouette on the other side of the decorated panes, and she could almost feel the heat of his skin even through the wood and glass. Her blood heated and a strange prickling sensation ran all over her. “If I open it, will you promise not to touch me?”

She was afraid of the power he had over her. Too
handsome for his own good and far too charming to be safe. He could talk anyone into anything, which was of course how he made his living.

“I’ll put my hands in my pockets. Is that okay?”

She swallowed and nodded. “Yes.” She turned the knob slightly, and put her other hand on the key.

The click of the latch made her heart jump, and she pulled the door open very, very slowly. Bright noonday light shone in, and her eyes found themselves staring at a white T-shirt stretched over a thickly muscled chest.

Sure enough, his hands were buried in the pockets of his dark pants. She allowed her eyes to creep up slowly toward his face, up his muscled neck to that angled jaw. Across his sensual mouth, caught hovering on the brink of a smile, to his assertive nose.

Gray eyes twinkled with anticipation. His dark hair was tousled, one lock hanging over his forehead. If anything he looked more gorgeous than ever. The urge to rush into his firm embrace was almost overwhelming….

But not quite.

“You and my father cooked this whole scheme up before we even met, didn’t you?”

His lashes lowered in a sheepish expression. “That’s true.”

“Who came up with it?”

Gavin inhaled, broad chest rising under his white T-shirt. “I’m afraid he did. At first I thought he was joking. I was introduced to him at the gala and we chatted about my ambitions, just casual talk. Then he started asking more and more questions about me—where I was from, where I went to school, what I wanted to accomplish.”

“No doubt he was making sure your origins wouldn’t embarrass the great Kincannon name.” She spoke drily.

A smile tugged at his mouth. “No doubt. I think he liked that I come from a long line of army generals.”

“The Kincannons were a warlike people. Some say they still are.” She fought her own smile. “So he came right out and asked if you’d consider marrying me for the right sum?”

Gavin looked down at the doorstep. “Yes. Like I said, I thought he was joking at first. Then he introduced me to you and we hit it off. When he and I talked later on that night, he assured me he was perfectly serious and that I was off to an excellent start.”

Bree’s chest tightened. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me?”

“I can see now that it was totally wrong, but at the time…I don’t know, it seemed kind of—old school. Like your dad.”

“Biblical, even. A sort of dowry.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah.” He winced. “Kind of like that. I guess the idea of all that money to start my own business made me look past the more unsavory aspects of the situation.” He let out a sigh. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Her chest tightened. “Don’t be. You’re very far from being the only man who might be tempted into marriage by the promise of a million dollars. I guess I should consider myself lucky he at least picked someone good-looking.”