He looked down at her face. “In that case, may I be the first to welcome you aboard, Savannah. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other. I’ve had to temporarily move back into my father’s house while my roof damage is being repaired.”
The room began to spin just a little, and she held onto his arm as much for support as for form. “I’m sorry about your house, though it will be nice to spend some time with you. But don’t I have to get approved by your father, first before the bookkeeping job is officially mine?”
Dallas shook his head. “Just technically. Nothing more than rubber-stamping at this stage,” he assured her. “He trusts Vanessa’s judgment. We all do.”
“Then I guess I’m hired.” One huge weight off her shoulders, she thought. At least for the time being. The rest of the future was just going to have to take care of itself.
As the pace picked up again, Dallas glided her around another couple. “I guess you are.”
Savannah was smiling at Dallas. Now she was laughing at something he’d just said. Cruz found himself taking in every movement. The woman in his arms was vivacious and had eyes only for him, but he was oblivious to her and her blatant attempts to snare his interest.
His attention was on the couple across the floor. His grip on the woman’s hand tightened slightly as he watched Dallas bend his head and whisper something into Savannah’s ear. She laughed in response, the sound muted by the music. Cruz heard it in his head, anyway.
What the hell were they talking about?
Again he found that he had to bank down the strange, hot feelings that threatened to take control of him. He muttered an oath under his breath, turning his partner so that he could get a better view of Savannah and her companion.
“What’s the matter, darlin’?” the woman purred. “You look like your mind’s a million miles away.”
Cruz looked at his partner. The lopsided grin that followed covered a thousand transgressions. “Just thinking of you and the night ahead, Gia.”
The blonde snuggled against him, her sigh warm on his chest. “Tell me more.”
Watching Cruz and the blonde who hermetically adhered herself to his body, Savannah struggled not to let a new wave of sadness engulf her. For now, things were as good as they could get. Better than she’d hoped.
She was just going to have to content herself with that.
Savannah had no idea why she couldn’t.
Pride filled Rosita Perez’s ample bosom as she watched Vanessa dance on the arm of her new husband. It was the kind of pride a mother might feel on the day of her daughter’s wedding. The kind of pride Rosita had felt watching her own daughters when they were married.
Her body swaying ever so slightly in time with the music, Rosita continued watching from the sidelines. Vanessa Fortune might as well have been her daughter. She had helped raise the girl and her twin sister, Victoria, from the time both were babies. She’d stepped in on a full-time basis when the twins’ mother, Janine, had died, filling the huge gap as best she could so that the Fortune children would always know that there was someone around who cared for them.
Ryan Fortune did care, of course, she thought as she helped herself to a small canapé, but he was only a man, and men were inept when it came to showing their feelings for their children. And then, of course, he’d made the mistake of marrying that woman, Sophia. His second wife had gotten her hooks into him, and the children had become more Rosita’s than ever.
Rosita delicately wiped her mouth with a napkin. Even her husband Ruben could have shown his feelings more, although he was better than most. No, in her generation it was the women who felt, the women who cried and encouraged and guided. It had always been second nature to her.
Rosita only hoped that she’d infused some of her values into the current generation of Fortunes, so they would be freer to show their feelings, freer to love those who deserved loving…. Like this small baby whom God had directed into their home, Rosita mused as she looked toward the ornate bassinet that was butted up against the side of one of the banquet tables.
When Claudia and Matthew had discovered that the baby whom Devin and Vanessa had rescued wasn’t their own precious kidnapped Bryan, they had taken it upon themselves to care for the little mystery baby. Taylor, as they were calling him, had the hereditary crown-shaped birthmark, thus proving he was indeed a Fortune. The only trouble was that none of the Fortune men had claimed responsibility for fathering the little angel. Regardless, the family had come to love the boy in the short time he’d been with them.
The bassinet could be seen from anywhere in the room. Afraid of a repetition of the awful kidnapping at the christening, Matthew and Claudia had made certain that the baby remained well in sight during the whole reception. They didn’t want to lose him, and perhaps lose the only real connection they still had to their own lost son. Though the FBI and Sheriff Grayhawk were still working on finding the kidnappers and baby Bryan, all leads were cold. At least the media weren’t hounding the Fortunes; the story was being kept quiet out of fear of tabloid exploitation.
Still, Rosita knew the kidnapping was placing a serious strain on Matthew and Claudia’s marriage. They’d moved back into Ryan’s home, and Rosita saw them daily. She could cut the tension between them with a knife.
Poor lamb, Rosita thought looking down at the baby. Who is it you really belong to?
Filled with sympathy for the child, for his real mother, who could be desperately searching for him even now, and for Matthew and Claudia and their continuous anguish, Rosita made her way over to the bassinet.
She noted that Lily Cassidy, Ryan Fortune’s long-lost love, and Lily’s daughter, Maria, were already there. Lily and Ryan had been lovers once. Lily had recently reentered Ryan’s life and the difference in the man could be seen instantly. About time the man was happy again, Rosita thought. She noticed that the baby began to fret as she approached. Rosita saw Maria lift the baby and take him into her arms with a practiced ease. Usually rebellious and embittered, Maria seemed oddly self-confident as she held the child. The baby quieted instantly.
Rosita paused, studying the younger woman.
Seeing her, Lily smiled a greeting to Rosita. “You must be very proud.” Her eyes indicated Vanessa.
Rosita nodded. Lily was a fine lady, and genteel in the traditional sense of the word. Lily understood that Vanessa was like a daughter to her. Ryan would do well to make her his wife, Rosita mused. Lily would undoubtedly bring honor and style to the family.
Not like Sophia. She’d never been a Fortune—not truly.
“She does make a beautiful bride,” Rosita agreed with genuine pride. “And more than that, she is a beautiful person.” She looked at Maria and the baby. “Would you like me to take him for a little while? That way you and Ms. Lily can feel free to have a good time.”
Maria merely scowled in response.
“That’s very sweet of you, Rosita,” Lily responded, covering for her daughter’s rudeness. Lily rose from her chair. “I guess it doesn’t take all of us to guard one small baby.” She passed her hand lightly over the infant’s downy head. There was affection in her eyes when she looked at Taylor.
Rosita saw a strange expression pass over Maria’s face as Lily spoke. It looked suspiciously like fear. Was she worried about the baby, too? Everyone at the ranch had fallen in love with this little waif, who laughed and already seemed to have a zest for life. But it was out of character for Maria to care about anyone, even a small baby.
“Perhaps a little of both.” Rosita reached for the baby, but Maria stepped back, unwilling to relinquish her hold. Rosita looked at her quizzically.
“That’s all right, I don’t mind,” Maria said quickly. “I like holding him, and he seems to be happy right now. Why don’t you just go and enjoy yourselves?” It was more of a dismissal