Barbara McCauley - Blackhawk's Sweet Revenge

The maître d‘ poured three glasses of champagne, and Nick raised his glass in a hearty salute. “To the newlyweds,” he said loud enough to turn the heads that weren’t already watching. “May your days be filled with love, your nights with passion.”

She nearly choked. Cheeks hot, she looked at Lucas. He was watching her, a hungry look in his eyes, a half smile on his lips. When he raised his glass to her, she knew he was taunting her.

Her wedding night. Dear God.

She downed the glass in nearly one gulp.

When Nick refilled her glass, Lucas frowned and leaned in close. “Easy, darling. You wouldn’t want to get a headache, now, would you?”

His hot breath fanned over her ear, and she shivered at the thrill that ran through her. She wouldn’t think about later. She couldn’t. She’d never make it through this dinner if she did.

“And now, by proxy, a toast from Killian Shawnessy.” Nick cleared his throat. “May you never forget what-is worth remembering, or remember what-is best forgotten.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow, but sipped from his glass. “You’ve heard from Ian?”

“Unreachable,” Nick replied, and at the look exchanged between the two men, Julianna had the feeling that “unreachable” meant more than it implied.

In high school, Lucas Blackhawk, Nick Santos and Ian Shawnessy were the bad-boy threesome. Other girls whispered and giggled about just how “good” they were at being “bad.” Not that Julianna had ever been included in those conversations. Her shyness and her father’s money had always set her apart. She’d never fit in anywhere, with anyone. Nor had she tried. She’d chosen a cool facade, a casual dismissal of her peers, to protect herself from the cruel snubs and sly looks. The Ice Princess, she’d been called, as often to her face as behind her back. And every time, it hurt as deeply, as painfully, as the time before.

And speaking of bad memories from high school, Julianna thought miserably, here came two right now. MaryAnn Johnson and Stephanie Roberts. They’d both been married and divorced. Stephanie twice.

Hips swaying, smiles dazzling, they brazenly sidled up to the table. “Why, hello, Julianna, long time no see.” They never even bothered to look at her. “And if it isn’t Lucas Blackhawk and Nick Santos. What a sight for sore eyes. Heard you’re driving a Ferrari, Lucas, and you, Nick, a famous motorcycle racer. What in the world brings you boys back to Wolf River?”

Stephanie and MaryAnn were all but licking their shiny red lips.

Nick smiled brightly. “Toasting the newlyweds.”

Both women’s mouths fell open. This time they did look at Julianna, their eyes wide.

“You and Lucas?” MaryAnn sputtered.

Julianna’s heart stopped. How perfectly this would fit into Lucas’s plan. Public rejection and humiliation. She held her breath, waited...

He slipped an arm around her, pulled her close and nuzzled her cheek. “Thought I’d never get her to say yes. Wonders never cease, do they, sweetheart?”

She stared at him, too stunned to speak.

“Show them that little rock on your finger, Julianna.” Nick leaned back m his seat, obviously enjoying the entertainment.

Stephanie and MaryAnn zeroed in on Julianna’s hand, their gazes like zoom lenses. Only proper upbringing and their need to display indifference, kept them from drooling.

With no other choice, Julianna held out her hand. She’d been too nervous during the ceremony to really look at the ring he’d slipped on her finger. The diamond was huge, she realized, and the cluster of smaller diamonds surrounding it were exquisite.

Appearances again, she realized, and as beautiful as the ring was, it only reminded her of the lie she’d committed herself to. The ring meant nothing more to Lucas than she did. They were both assets to him, long-term investments. That’s what he’d told her.

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