“This is the Lady Kate, one of my grandpa Ben’s favorite toys,” Natalie explained fondly, patting the hull of the larger boat. “Grandma Kate liked speed and adventure. She was an ace pilot. She even had a hydroplane dock put in at the estate across the lake. And just a few years ago, she bought herself a matching pair of jet skis. She was forever harassing the rest of us to buzz around the lake with her. But Grandpa Ben had a quieter side. He liked long days on the lake with his fishing pole. Sometimes he’d take me with him. And more than once, he took my whole family—my dad and mom, my brother and sisters and me. We’d all stay the night out on the water.” She laughed her musical laugh. “It was no hardship, I can tell you. The Lady Kate has all the conveniences of home. She’ll be at your disposal during the time you stay here.” For a moment, those enormous eyes met his. And he couldn’t help thinking that he’d like more than the houseboat to be at his disposal.
He wondered at himself. In the past few years, since the debacle that had been his relationship with Vanessa, he’d been wary of women. But from the moment he stepped into Natalie Fortune’s parlor, his usual wariness had seemed to fade away.
The big dog bumped against his side. And Toby, who was holding Natalie’s hand, turned for the door that would take them out onto the open dock. The adults and the dog followed where the silent little boy led them.
Outside, the water lapped softly against the pilings and the wind ruffled the surface of the water and far off over the lake somewhere Rick actually imagined he heard the wild, laughing cry of a loon.
He wanted to forget all about Minneapolis and the architectural firm where he’d been working like a demon for nearly a decade now. He wanted to forget his expensive house on its nice suburban street and just stay here. Leave it all behind and remain forever in the rambling farmhouse by the lake with the son who had smiled today and the big, friendly dog and the enchanting woman who sang along to Janis Joplin wearing a lampshade on her head.
But none of that was possible—not for two weeks, anyway.
He smiled at his son. “It’s time to go.”
Two
Natalie waved goodbye as her new tenants drove off. Bernie bumped against her side. She knelt and ruffled his neck fur.
“You love ’em, don’t you, boy?”
Bernie swiped at her with his big, sloppy tongue, letting her know just how happy he was. Natalie laughed and ducked away from his canine kisses. She was every bit as pleased as her dog.
Not to mention relieved. Five prospective tenants had come by yesterday; none of them had worked out. But now she could relax. She’d found just the right people to look after the house and Bernie. The silent, sad-eyed little boy was adorable. And Rick Dalton seemed ready to treat her house and her dog as if they were his own.
He was also a hunk, with his lean good looks and his warm, exciting smile. And she would be living right here with him for two weeks….
Letting out a little grunt of self-disgust, Natalie rose from petting the dog. It was only in her silly, romantic fantasies that men like Rick Dalton wanted a woman like her. In real life, she was much too ordinary to hold their interest for long. And besides, he was taking the house for his son’s sake. He’d have his hands full trying to get to know that little boy of his. The last thing he’d be looking for would be a summer romance.
And Natalie wasn’t looking for romance, either—at least not until she got on that cruise ship and met someone exotic and different. Then maybe she’d go in for a shipboard dalliance. So what if she’d never been the “dallying” type. There was a first time for everything, after all.
“Come on, Bernie.” She started up the walk. Halfway to the porch, she heard the phone ringing. She broke into a sprint and almost turned her ankle on the step, thanks to the platform shoes from Grandma Kate’s trunk.
She made it to the foyer extension just before the answering machine picked up in the study—and then she wished she hadn’t hurried.
“Natalie, what took you so long?” It was Joel Baines, whom Natalie had dated exclusively for five years, until a month ago, when Joel broke it off.
At first, after Joel told her it was over, Natalie had been crushed. She’d wandered around the house in a bathrobe, beset by crying jags, wondering what was the matter with her. But then she’d come to her senses and realized that Joel had done her a favor; she’d faced facts. Joel had been with her for two reasons: because it stroked his ego to have a Fortune on his arm, and because she’d made herself so incredibly convenient—always there when he needed her, always ready to do things his way. She didn’t need a man like him in her life.
Unfortunately, for the past few days, Joel had been having second thoughts about his decision to end their relationship.
Natalie hadn’t. “Joel, stop calling me.”
“But, Natalie…”
“I mean it. Listen. Do. Not. Call. Me. Again.”
“Natalie, I was a fool.”
“Joel, you betrayed me.” He had confessed that he’d been unfaithful, just before he told her that he was through with her.
“I never should have told you about my little mistakes,” Joel said. “I can see that now.”
“Just leave me alone. Please.”
“I love you, Natalie. There’s a big fat hole in my life with you gone. If you’ll just—”
“Goodbye, Joel.” She hung up.
And, for a moment, she felt really good. Really, completely in charge of her life and affairs.
But only for a moment. Then, through the door she’d left open when she raced for the phone, she saw her mother’s white Mercedes as it fishtailed into the turnaround by the front walk. Erica Fortune stomped on the brakes and brought the car to a skidding stop, spewing gravel in her wake.
With a sigh, Natalie went out to meet her.
Erica emerged from the car wearing a beautiful white linen suit that should have been a mass of wrinkles, but wasn’t. On Erica Fortune, linen didn’t dare wrinkle.
“Oh, Nat. Thank God you’re here.”
“What is it, Mother?”
Erica smoothed back her shining silvery-blond hair with a slim, perfectly manicured hand. The huge emerald ring that matched her eyes glittered in the sunlight. In her other hand she clutched a rolled newspaper. “Here. Look.” She held out the paper.
Reluctantly Natalie took it and opened it up. It was that day’s edition of the Star Tribune.
“Bottom right,” her mother muttered.
Natalie turned the paper over. And there was her father’s face. Bad Business at Fortune Industries, the headline read.
“I just…I need to talk,” Erica said, giving Bernie, who had been waiting patiently for her to notice him, an absentminded pat on the head. Then she let out a small moan. “Oh, Nat, I just don’t know what’s happening with him. Do you know what that article says?”
Natalie shook her head.
“It dredges up all the old dirt all over again, accusing your father openly of sabotaging his own company. There’s a lot about the total insanity of his selling his personal stock to that awful, incomprehensible Monica Malone.”
Like Erica and Natalie’s sister, Allie, Monica Malone had once been a Fortune Cosmetics spokesmodel—the very first one, decades ago. And along with becoming Fortune’s Face, the woman had become the reigning queen of the silver screen. No one in the family could stand her, but it seemed she was always in the background somewhere, stirring up trouble—and never more so than recently, since Grandma Kate’s