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He clutched a gold tray with hands encased in spotless white gloves—hiding sweaty palms, no doubt—with a thick embossed envelope propped in the center. The death grip the man had on the flimsy piece of metal suggesting he expected to have to use it to defend himself. Smart fella. Something about fancy duds and a ranch just didn’t go together, and all three of them were painfully aware of thatfact.
“I’m looking for a Mr. Cassius McIntyre,” the man announced.
“It’s Chaz. And you found him.”
The footman didn’t attempt to disguise his relief. “Allow me to present you with a special invitation to the Cinderella Ball.” He offered the thick, gold-embossed envelope on thetray.
It took everything Chaz possessed to keep from laughing. But he managed. “Didn’t apply to the ball.”
“No, sir. The application was made in your name.”
Chaz’s eyes narrowed, the laughter draining right out of him. “Now who do you suppose would have done such a foolhardy thing?”
“I wouldn’t know, sir.”
“Well, you can take that envelope and—” He broke off, painfully aware of two infuriating facts. First, this just might provide the solution he needed. And second, the people providing that solution were the very last he’d ever wanted to see again. Fate, it would seem, had decided to take another swing athim.
“Go on,” Penny encouraged eagerly. “Tell him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.”
“Get back to work, old man.” Of course, his foreman instantly obeyed by digging in his heels and folding his scrawny arms across an equally scrawny chest.
“I’m instructed to leave it,” Mr. Fancy Pants informed him. “What you choose to do with it is your business. But under no circumstances am I to return the envelope to the Beaumonts.”
Chaz’s gaze sharpened. “The Beaumonts?” The question had more bite than he’d intended. The footman took a hasty step backward, raising the tray like a shield. “Rafe Beaumont?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What happened to the Montagues?”
“The elder Montagues have retired. Their daughter, Ella, is now married to Mr. Beaumont, and they host the balls.”
“Give me the envelope. Now.”
“At once, sir.” With a quick nod, the footman extended the tray once again. It trembled notably. The second Chaz took the envelope, the footman turned around and hotfooted it out the front door toward a waitinglimo.
“What’s in the envelope?” Penny questioned suspiciously.
“An invite.”
“What sorta invite?”
“It’s for a lot of things.”
To revisit the past. For revenge. But most importantly, it was an invitation that would allow him to satisfy Doña Isabella’s demands.
“Huh?”
“You heard the man, Penny.” Chaz fixed his attention on the envelope, sensing the winds of change sweeping across the Rocky Mountains. Dry, harsh winds originating from the unforgiving desert surrounding Forever, Nevada. “It’s for a ball. Amarriage ball. Meet the woman of your dreams and marry her, all in one night.”
“And you’re going to this ball thing the idiot was talking about?” his foreman asked incredulously.
“Yeah, old man. Iam.” A remote coldness filled the crags of a hard-lived face. “Not only am I going, I’ll be bringing back a wife.”
The Beaumont Residence—La Finca de Esperanza, Milagra, CostaRica
Shayne stared up at the starlit Costa Rican sky. The moon hovered overhead, as full and white and beautiful as any she’d seen. She opened her hand and stared at the gold ticket that had arrived by special messenger earlier that day. It glittered gently beneath the moon’s softer light. But even so, it had a brilliant flash and fire she remembered well, one that spoke of hope and love... and dreams longlost.
“Why did he send it?” she asked aloud.
