Page 1 of Fairy Tale Marriage

PROLOGUE

The Beaumonts—Forever, Nevada

Ella Beaumont rolled onto her hip and stared at her husband. Afull moon made that job a little easier, burnishing the room in silver and painting a swath of gentle ivory across Rafe’s hard-chiseled features.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing, Rafe? Maybe we shouldn’t interfere.”

“My interference is what put my sister in this situation to begin with. Istayed out of it for the past nine years, hoping against hope Shayne would find someone. But there’s never been anyone else for her. Not one single man who’s captured her heart.”

“Except McIntyre,” Ella said softly.

Rafe nodded. “Except McIntyre.”

“How do you know he’s not married? How do you know he’ll come?”

“I’ve made it my business to keep a watchful eye on him since I had their marriage annulled.”

She took a moment to absorb his comment before very gently informing her husband, “As much as you might want to, you can’t play God.”

“I’m not playing at anything.” He set his jaw in a manner she recognized all too well. It spoke of rock-solid determination. It also warned she wouldn’t sway him. Not on this point. “I’m attempting to set right a wrong. If it succeeds, Shayne will finally have her happiness.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Grief silvered his eyes. “Then at least I will have given her the chance I stole all those years ago.”

Lullabye, Colorado

“You can’t be serious!”

Doña Isabella inclined her head in a regal fashion, her grip tightening on her gold-tipped cane. “I am quite serious, Señor McIntyre. You knew those were my terms when I contacted you last month. Yet, you have done nothing about implementing them.”

“You expect me to find a wife in one short month?” he demanded savagely.

“No.” Black eyes flashed above a strongly hooked nose. “I now expect you to find a wife in one short week.”

And that said itall.

He paced the length of his office, fighting for control. Reining in his temper proved as difficult as reining in a wild stallion bent on freedom. He didn’t doubt for a minute Doña Isabella fully expected him to have a bride on his arm at the end of the allotted sevendays.

It didn’t matter that marriage was the last thing he wanted. It didn’t matter there wasn’t a chance in hell that a woman within a hundred miles of his ranch would take him on or that he had nothing to give a wife. All that mattered was she’d decreed he do as she demanded or she’d refuse to give him the one thing he wanted most in the world.

Forced to admit he’d run out of options, he acted in the only way he could under the circumstances. He shot her a cocky grin. “I don’t suppose you have any candidates available?”

Doña Isabella’s mouth thinned. Apparently, asense of humor wasn’t a characteristic she openly embraced. “I leave for Mexico in one week, Señor McIntyre. If at that time you’ve met all my demands, I’ll give you what you wish. If not...” She shrugged, her black eyes coldly implacable. “The choice is yours.”

His grin vanished. “No, madam. It’s not,” he assured her, just as coldly. “If it was, we wouldn’t be having this discussion.”

A brief knock sounded and Chaz’s foreman, Penny, pushed the office door open a scant inch. No doubt fear of the intimidating Doña kept him from opening it any further. “Hey, boss?”

“I thought I told you not to—”

“Yeah, Iknow. Sorry about that. But there’s a really strange guy out here and I’m afraid if you don’t see to it your own self and get him out of here, somebody’s like as not to shoot him purely on the principal of the thing.”

Damn. “Excuse me,” Chaz said to his guest.

He received another of the Doña’s regal nods and amusement vied with frustration. As though he needed permission from her to run his own household! He swore beneath his breath. Unfortunately, that was precisely the case. Fornow.

Stepping into the entrance hall, he confronted a sight he thought he’d put behind him nine long years ago. Aman stood there, aman who looked about as uncomfortable as a body could. Dressed in white and gold satin, his uniform sported braided nonsense on the shoulders and down the front of his short bolero jacket. Honest to God lace decorated his womanish shirt and the end of his sleeves.

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