Susan Fox - The Prodigal Wife

About THE MARRIAGE BARGAIN

“The Marriage Bargain is a must read with spellbinding characters…”

—Romantic Times

About TO CLAIM A WIFE

“Fans will relish Ms. Fox’s fabulous characters and emotionally intense plot.”

—Romantic Times

About THE WIFE HE CHOSE

“Susan Fox offers a touching read that captures the dynamics of a developing relationship.”

—Romantic Times

Susan Fox lives with her youngest son, Patrick, in Des Moines, Iowa, U.S.A. A lifelong fan of Westerns and cowboys, she tends to think of romantic heroes in terms of Stetsons and boots! In what spare time she has, Susan is an unabashed couch potato and movie fan. She particularly enjoys romantic movies, and also reads a variety of romance novels—with guaranteed happy endings—and plans to write many more of her own.

Susan Fox has a compelling writing style and loves

to take her characters on an intense emotional journey!

Share in the powerful feelings and dilemmas experienced

by her hero and heroine in Susan’s latest novel.

The path to true love never runs smoothly,

but the thrill of the chase will keep you hooked!

HARLEQUIN ROMANCES ®

3648—THE MAN SHE’LL MARRY

3668—THE WIFE HE CHOSE

3696—MARRIAGE ON DEMAND

3717—HER FORBIDDEN BRIDEGROOM

The Prodigal Wife

Susan Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

GABE PATTON and Lainey Talbot had been married for almost five years, though they’d only been together in the same room twice since then. The first time was that ten minutes after a judge had pronounced them husband and wife as they’d signed the marriage certificate. She’d coldly walked out without a word to Gabe, leaving the beautiful rings he’d just put on her finger lying next to her signature.

The second time had been at her mother’s funeral six months ago. She’d kept herself aloof, wordlessly listening to Gabe’s formal expression of condolence before she’d stoically endured less than an hour breathing the same air as him while the memorial service droned on.

She’d walked away from him that time, too. Calmly and coldly, still frozen from the shock of her mother’s death, but still quite coldly furious with him for what he and her late father had done to her.

Over the five years she’d spent away from Texas and Gabe Patton, she’d refused his every phone call, and sent back to him, unopened, every letter and gift he’d sent to her. Still self-righteous, she’d boldly marked on each envelope or package in red felt pen: Refused. Return To Sender.

She’d never acknowledged Gabe Patton as her legal husband in even a remote way, much less taken his name, though she’d been forced to file her income tax returns as married, filing single, and she’d had to instruct her lawyer to rebuff any attempt at contact, short of death or a divorce petition. She hadn’t let herself think many good thoughts about Gabriel Patton; she’d certainly never spoken anything good about him these past years.

She’d almost managed to make herself forget the mad adolescent crush she’d had on him once when she was barely eighteen, and she’d staunchly tried to deny to herself the reasons she’d loved him to distraction back then. Sometimes she was even successful. She’d been glad she’d taken such incredible pains to protect her female pride, to keep a wary distance from Gabe Patton so he’d never suspect her feelings for him—particularly once she’d found out that the only reason he’d agreed to marry her had been to get control of Talbot Ranch.

Her sweet, agonizing crush had exploded into fiery hate when he’d done that, and she’d sworn to herself that she’d never show Gabriel Patton an ounce of welcome or approval as a husband. Never.

But she’d got it wrong, so very wrong.

Gabe Patton had never been the greedy opportunist she’d thought he was when he’d agreed to the marriage deal her father had secretly cooked up for his only child. A marriage deal she’d never suspected until after her father’s sudden death when she’d heard the barbaric terms of his will.

In her mind, the father she’d idolized had apparently found a way to punish her for trying to stay neutral in his bitter divorce from her mother. John Talbot had never given any indication of disapproval toward her and had even seemed to agree with her decision when she’d left the ranch to live with her mother in Chicago. But when he’d given away control of her inheritance to the man he’d selected for her to marry, she’d taken it as a brutal revelation of some virulent, secret anger her father had harbored over the agonizing choice she’d made.

And because her much-loved and adored father had been just four days dead by the time she’d found it out, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to be angry with him, only wounded and bewildered by what he’d done. Instead she’d taken out her rage over the shock of her father’s death, and the injustice of his secret bargain, on Gabe. She’d spurned him and done spite to the marriage that had been forced on her.

Until her mother had died and she’d read the truth in the ream of papers and documents Sondra had hidden away from her and lied about. Everything Lainey had done, every cold act, had been based on lies and pain and more lies. Because of what her mother had engineered, Lainey had not only dishonored her husband and her marriage, she’d also dishonored the memory of the loving father who’d tried to protect her from her mother’s greed, then had suddenly died before he could explain his reasons.

Now the stench of dishonor was slowly poisoning her soul. For weeks she’d been traumatized by the truth, and every moment of those weeks, sharp guilt had eaten at her and sickening questions had pounded her heart.

Was there a way to make up these past five years to Gabriel Patton? Was there anything she could do to somehow atone for the things she’d done to him—and his pride—in a way that might at least mollify him and give him some sort of satisfaction? It was too much to expect that he could forgive her. She’d come to that heart-crushing conclusion when she’d read the truth and realized the magnitude of her hatefulness.

If he paid her back even a smidgen of what she’d done to him, it would be the much deserved and overdue justice that was owed to a wronged man.

He’d endured her venom for years without a hint of retaliation, so he deserved to hear her admit to his face what she should have known all along: that he was an honorable man of character who was far too good for her, not the come-from-nothing lowlife she’d believed he was.

As terrified as she was to see him again and endure whatever awful things he’d say to her now, it was only right that she take whatever he was willing to dish out and do it without complaint.